Making From Remainders

Life is about deconstructing and reconstructing... for me, religion started it.

We don't typically opt for the catastrophic public flameout: systems, relationships, and circumstances may slowly collapse, or perhaps someone deconstructs your reality in order to reconstruct something you've built for themselves.

Those who have left religion – specifically, high-control religious communities where thinking was policed in ways that we see happening in American cities right now – spend a lot of time deconstructing belief systems. But eventually, the important part is the reconstruction: making coherent sense of new terrain, and choosing how you will show up among family, in community, and for yourself. If all we do is continuously deconstruct, we may escape what had been bad, but we miss out on the best, most creative parts of what comes next: imagining and building something better.

We're at a crossroads right now, election looming, and the sense that no matter how things go, we're heading for a breakdown. I've been through a few of those in my adult life. And, given that three of anything establishes a pattern, I’ve found that deconstruction - and reconstruction - apply to a whole lot more than religion.

Narratives & reputations, childhood homes, and favorite garments can each become uninhabitable. What we do with the remainders is the difference between waste and redemption — physically, metaphorically, spiritually. The quality of what follows, and the options available to us along the way, have a lot to do with the attention and care we give to what remains. Do we nurture it, neglect it, or throw it away?

I've been quietly observing societal breakdown for more than a decade now (this has, of course, been our path for centuries, given the decisions our ancestors made that we have yet to rebuke -- or to reconcile -- at the level of systems). 

As I've watched from the sidelines, waiting for the conditions necessary for my own thriving and reengagement to return after the loss of my brick-and-mortar identity and the safety that had come with being known and seen in that way, it's struck me that there is work to be done in modeling how we imagine — and nurture the conditions for — a more socially, spiritually, economically, and psychologically coherent future.

It isn't easy, sitting with protracted discomfort. I've found that once your life has bottomed out, often for reasons having more to do with systemic contexts than anything you've done or failed to do on your own, others will see to it that you're compelled to keep digging.

I've spent the last several years with dirt under my nails (metaphorically and literally, both), clawing my way back to the creative energy that had bloomed from my second deconstruction: the end of a marriage and the rise of my protagonist Girl Boss era. 

The last several years have been brutal - but also blessed in a way they don’t talk about in church (at least not the one in which I was raised). I haven't been able to put a stake in the ground because others were still trying to bury me (and, if you’ve experienced stalking or targeted aggression - as many of you certainly have - you can appreciate that this isn't always a metaphorical risk, either).

We build better futures partly by carrying forward what other people have given us. One of the most important, if nuanced, bits of wisdom I've ever received (from a trusted colleague and valued friend from 20+ years ago) was this: there will be times when you're confronted with excruciating circumstances, trapped between a rock and a hard place, and left with no decent options. Even then, you typically still have a decision: Cope, Confront, or Leave. While you may conclude that all three are shitty options, you can claim a modicum of sanity & agency by choosing to evaluate them, anyway.  You don’t need to pick one and work it – imagining what it might take to do any or all of the three introduces problem-solving and curiosity while you decide for yourself which is most likely to make the mess more tolerable (either now or in the future). 

This is a life hack for clinging to dignity and agency under pressure. There will be circumstances wherein we can't physically leave due to factors beyond our control, and there will be those where confrontation could become deadly. And, there are also situations where continuing to cope isn’t wise if there is an opportunity to gain traction against the impasse. But that's the point: knowing that we can continually reassess our options, even when none offers a viable path forward Right Now, allows us to respond rather than react, and to endure until the unburying becomes possible.

The act of imagining our options is itself a creative practice.

And there is always unburying – whether ours will require a backhoe or a hand broom remains to be seen. Right now, a lot of us are standing at the edge of a great unknown. And, if we’ve grown up skipping the good part and aiming straight for the pearly gates, we may not have had opportunities to lean into reality yet. Many of us are still deconstructing. 

But at some point, reconstruction becomes the path, and nurturing redemption from broken dreams, bodies, and systems becomes the work. Incidentally, it’s beautiful work.

And it’s not just a personal recovery process, either, but an embodied, collective, ethical and creative practice that allows us to build better futures from the remains we’re inhabiting today: individual choices produce collective outcomes, which in turn change the options available to individuals. 

No matter what happens tomorrow or in the days that follow, responding thoughtfully will give us a better chance of shaping what follows than reacting to unwelcome news. 

Besides, there’s no sense in waiting for things to fall apart before we lean into nurturing a more beautiful Dream from This Uniquely American Mess. 

Now, let's get on out there and vote.