The pace of updates and the constant reading and deleting emails throughout the day, intermittently, has become a habit, bordering on addiction. With phone at the ready, I find myself constantly thinking I may have "missed something." This disruption of normal day to day functioning has the effect of wasting too much time throughout the day. The result being feeliing a bit "on edge" and thinking "where has my day gone?" Wasting days...months...years...in a blur of constant information.
I'm grateful to you for naming this, W.J. — I know that pull well. During Trump’s first term I did the same thing, checking the news far too often, convinced I needed to keep an eye on every development. It left me tense, distracted, and absent from my day. That feeling of time slipping away is something many of us are experiencing now, because the urge to check for the next update turns into a reflex before we even notice. It feeds the sense that we might have missed something vital, while quietly draining the energy we need for the parts of life that actually matter.
But it is possible to change the pattern, without stepping back from the world. I’m glad to know this will be reaching you at the right time.
You're welcome Francesca, and thank you for your kind words. I’m steady, and can feel that the most difficult part is behind me. There’s a bit more to walk through, of course, but I'm grateful we're finding our footing.
Lori, I'm sorry, but this was really hard for me, specifically because it was so easily avoidable. Todd Snider deserved a better end after a lifetime of pain and diminishing hope, yet while still giving so much to the world around him, even through a lifetime of unrelenting pain from spine damage.
A medicine available since before man existed, ruined by American greed and brutality, took almost 1M innocent American lives, and now Todd's. Even the haiku form fails to make any aspect of this loss any more acceptable. If I could have just stood beside him for a moment I could likely have helped him...at least this time. But he was alone in his lost hope, and we all know just how that feels.
I'm going to try to focus on his music, not his tragic end as the result of being one of countless millions of Americans which Trump and RFK, JR consider to not be "strong enough to survive".
Are any of us that strong? I think we can prove that we are by planning a parade of celebration to be held in every American city and town on the yet unknown Day of Liberation from disunity and fear, hate and ignorance, distrust and violent intent.
I have little doubt that I WILL be there on that day to yell and cry and laugh and hug, hug, hug EVERYONE in sight!
I felt the mix of grief, anger and love running through every line of this. It’s clear how much Todd Snider meant to you, not only as an artist but as someone whose pain you recognised and carried some understanding of yourself. I’m so sorry that on top of everything, you’re having to sit with this loss, and with the sense that it didn’t have to happen the way it did.
What you wrote about wanting to stand beside him for just a moment stays with me. Your longing to offer steadiness, even briefly, tells me how deeply you care and how clearly you understand the kind of loneliness people fall into when systems fail us. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s also part of why your voice matters so much in moments like this.
I’m glad you’re turning back to his music. It holds the parts of him that aren’t defined by how he left this world. The way he wrote, the grit and the humour, the warmth under the rough edges — that’s real, and it’s still here.
Your vision of a day when people can stand together without fear or division feels close when you describe it. Something we could build if we keep showing up for each other in small, persistent ways. I can imagine you there, shouting and laughing and hugging everyone in reach — I'll be first in line to meet you there.
Thank you for trusting me with what you’re feeling. As ever, I’m walking beside you.
The pace of updates and the constant reading and deleting emails throughout the day, intermittently, has become a habit, bordering on addiction. With phone at the ready, I find myself constantly thinking I may have "missed something." This disruption of normal day to day functioning has the effect of wasting too much time throughout the day. The result being feeliing a bit "on edge" and thinking "where has my day gone?" Wasting days...months...years...in a blur of constant information.
I'm grateful to you for naming this, W.J. — I know that pull well. During Trump’s first term I did the same thing, checking the news far too often, convinced I needed to keep an eye on every development. It left me tense, distracted, and absent from my day. That feeling of time slipping away is something many of us are experiencing now, because the urge to check for the next update turns into a reflex before we even notice. It feeds the sense that we might have missed something vital, while quietly draining the energy we need for the parts of life that actually matter.
But it is possible to change the pattern, without stepping back from the world. I’m glad to know this will be reaching you at the right time.
Thank you once again for this great piece! I'm so sorry to hear about your father in law. I hope you can find comfort in the coming days
You're welcome Francesca, and thank you for your kind words. I’m steady, and can feel that the most difficult part is behind me. There’s a bit more to walk through, of course, but I'm grateful we're finding our footing.
Friday, a songwriter died,
A lifetime of pain,
Trump’s greed ended Todd Snider.
https://www.huffpost.com/entry/todd-snider-country-singer-death_n_6918b1a9e4b0191be9d554bd?origin=home-zone-b-unit
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lori, I'm sorry, but this was really hard for me, specifically because it was so easily avoidable. Todd Snider deserved a better end after a lifetime of pain and diminishing hope, yet while still giving so much to the world around him, even through a lifetime of unrelenting pain from spine damage.
A medicine available since before man existed, ruined by American greed and brutality, took almost 1M innocent American lives, and now Todd's. Even the haiku form fails to make any aspect of this loss any more acceptable. If I could have just stood beside him for a moment I could likely have helped him...at least this time. But he was alone in his lost hope, and we all know just how that feels.
I'm going to try to focus on his music, not his tragic end as the result of being one of countless millions of Americans which Trump and RFK, JR consider to not be "strong enough to survive".
Are any of us that strong? I think we can prove that we are by planning a parade of celebration to be held in every American city and town on the yet unknown Day of Liberation from disunity and fear, hate and ignorance, distrust and violent intent.
I have little doubt that I WILL be there on that day to yell and cry and laugh and hug, hug, hug EVERYONE in sight!
Thank you, Lori. I feel a bit better now.
My dear friend
I felt the mix of grief, anger and love running through every line of this. It’s clear how much Todd Snider meant to you, not only as an artist but as someone whose pain you recognised and carried some understanding of yourself. I’m so sorry that on top of everything, you’re having to sit with this loss, and with the sense that it didn’t have to happen the way it did.
What you wrote about wanting to stand beside him for just a moment stays with me. Your longing to offer steadiness, even briefly, tells me how deeply you care and how clearly you understand the kind of loneliness people fall into when systems fail us. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s also part of why your voice matters so much in moments like this.
I’m glad you’re turning back to his music. It holds the parts of him that aren’t defined by how he left this world. The way he wrote, the grit and the humour, the warmth under the rough edges — that’s real, and it’s still here.
Your vision of a day when people can stand together without fear or division feels close when you describe it. Something we could build if we keep showing up for each other in small, persistent ways. I can imagine you there, shouting and laughing and hugging everyone in reach — I'll be first in line to meet you there.
Thank you for trusting me with what you’re feeling. As ever, I’m walking beside you.
L. ❤️🩹
Thank you, Lori.