This post is not in any way associated with the movie Frozen or the earworm song referenced in the title to this essay.  But now you’ve got that song stuck in your head anyway, don’t you?  You’re welcome.  Instead, this post is about my recent total inability to just freaking let things go.  Trish tells me I have a restless mind; my noodle is always working.  Writing helps me quiet the noodle, hence the blog.  Lately, though, I seem to have reached some crisis level in driving myself nuts over little things that I just can’t let go.  I have a very short fuse with issues that used to just roll off of me.  I thought it was time for some exploration.

Ideally, this essay would have a nice neat little arc.  I would discuss my righteous youth with a hair-thin trigger and then tell a series of stories that weave together my growth curve through my early adult years.  The story would then culminate with some wise words from my middle aged self about how I’ve become centered and calm, sitting quietly with my hands steepled under my chin as I gaze knowingly into the sunset.  Yeah, no.

The early part is right:  I was a Righteous Youth.  And by “youth” I mean into my 30’s.  I thought I knew it all as a teenager.  Then when I was in college, I realized how little I knew in my teen years; but now in college, NOW I understood.  Then when I finished grad school and started in the “real world” I realized how little I knew in school; but now that I was working, NOW I got it.  Somewhere in my 40’s I finally accepted that I did NOT know it all; nowhere close.  And that actually calmed me down a bit.

As my job responsibilities grew, I found that things that used to really set me off (some shift in geopolitics or an election; some co-worker totally dropping a critical ball or resigning; someone cutting me off in traffic) just evoked a shrug.  Been there, done that; I knew the world wouldn’t crumble.  My active noodle was otherwise occupied with a thousand little stressors and a few heavy duty ones—many with the kind of broad impact that keeps you up at night and gives you heartburn.  It was easy to let the little things go.  By the time I retired, not much could rile me up.  Not even getting fired.  I call it “Forced Perspective”.

Similarly, I learned that I could be a good facilitator, mediator or teacher as long as I didn’t have real skin in the game or feel deeply invested in the topic.  And since I had dramatically narrowed what I allowed myself to feel deeply about, I was able to coach my way around a lot of crises.  Something has happened, though, as I’ve detoxed from my professional years.  My formally work occupied noodle has had to find other things to chew on and boy has it found things!  For instance, I enjoy non-fiction because I love to learn and now I have the time to burrow down all kinds of rabbit holes to explore topics.  Back in the day, I just didn’t have the time and energy to pursue knowledge for fun.  I was just too busy.  But now!  Now if I read a Facebook post on Andrew Jackson, well, I dive headlong into the research to learn more about the man and President and why people find him fascinating and/or repulsive.  And, for good measure, I read about the disaster that was Andrew Johnson.  It’s not always such impressive stuff, though.  I have also recently dug into the origin of hotdogs and when the Phillie Phanatic first came on the scene.  (1977, for those interested.)  This knowledge searching is fun and gratifying!  It becomes a liability, though, when that knowledge searching is inspired by current events.

As a scientist, I go nuts over assumptions—particularly unfounded assumptions people make about data.  In case you haven’t noticed, we seem to have a current issue in this country about how to put data into any sort of useful or productive context, so my frequency of talking back to the TV has increased to a rather annoying level.  It used to just be my rolling commentary on pharma commercials.  (“I feel for people with ED or non-24 syndrome, but can you put some money into lowly antibiotics research?”)  Now, it’s constant talk back regarding the data around community spread, which actions make sense based on the data, and what the First Amendment REALLY says.  Yes, I have read the Constitution. And have a pocket version to refer back to when needed.  This is all creating a bit of tension around the house.

Everything is compounded now.  It’s the pandemic along with the economy along with a reckoning on centuries-old systemic racism all layered with divisive politics in an election year that is only going to get worse from here.  I hear and read things that just make me shake my head with thoughts of “how do they not GET this?” but it just doesn’t STOP there.  I used to pride myself on being able to “listen to understand” but these days I just “listen to refute and convince”.  I seem to have lost the ability to maintain a healthy sense of perspective and I don’t like that about myself one bit.  I can’t let it go.

So then all sorts of little things start getting to me again:  when our torty cat, Bridget, sticks her face in my plate; when teenagers make too much noise in the cul-de-sac (“Get off my lawn!”); when I see someone at the grocery store with their mask below their nose; when I get tailgated (man, I really thought I was past that last one!).  Then Friday night, after another day of all of this crap, I started scrolling through Facebook.  I happened on the recorded live feed of Kabbalat Shabbat services from my old synagogue.  There was my rabbi, with his guitar.  I turned on the sound.  And watched.  And sang and prayed along.  And breathed deeply.  And just….let it all go.  Gaining perspective is a hard fight; it’s even harder to maintain when your coping energy is tapped out.  Recognize that strain within yourself.  It’s probably there, right below the surface.  Try to not stay stuck for too long.  Find whatever will help you let go.  There might be hope for us all yet.