Listen. I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I’m worried about Lizzo and I’m worried about Ross Gay and I’m worried about Jonathan Van Ness. I’m worried about the sun.
I tend to take on the role of Pep Factory for my colleagues and friends and family. It’s not that I’m foolishly ra!-ra!-ing shitty policies or spewing that attitude-of-gratitude baloney. Instead, I’m trying my best to smile within the storm and find delight that I can share. I feel a moral obligation to share the delight I do experience.
To share the delight is to offer a life preserver that can float even when the drain of the ocean has been unplugged and we’re all swirling in horror. I can remind people they are human and worthy of love. I can remind people that there are good things. I DO NOT tell people not to feel anger or sadness, and I am not exempt from feeling shitty a lot of the time myself. (And I know and recognize toxic positivity. There are many systemic problems. I’m working on those, too!) I simply say out loud things that I find delightful, and it tends to raise the mean energy level in a room, and that makes it possible to keep on fighting the larger problems. In my work, I do this for other adults and also a lot of teenagers.
It is exhausting. When I burn out from the energy expense of this work, it sometimes comes with declarations from people I’ve been cheering. They say things like, “You always make me feel better!” and “Your happiness is infectious!” and “Oh, you just make me smile!”
Folks, it’s nice to hear that. But it is also not an accident. I choose to do it. It is an act of love. And it is hard.
I’m going to keep doing it! It’s something I like about myself!
But what I mean to say is that those statements that are supposed to read as “thanks for reliably brightening my day” are not enough when they are alone. Here.
A PSA from Pep Factories all around: As nice as it is to hear that you like us to be around you, it would be even nicer if you could return the favor! What delights YOU? I’m dying to know.
A few years ago, when we were faced with the tragic and awful losses of such joy-inducing public figures as Kate Spade (queen of bright colors and a cheerful floral pattern) and Anthony Bordain (king of taking you out of yourself to see the humanity in all others in all places), people were like check on your strong friends. Yes. DO! But the real help is bigger than that.
Can you be a strong friend to your strong friend? That doesn’t mean pretending away the hard stuff, or being “happy all the time” (*shudder*), and it definitely doesn’t mean “I can CURE your clinical depression/bipolar disorder/very real grief for a world gone wrong.” It just means, instead of calling up your cheerful pal who isn’t cheering right now to say only, “Hey, are you okay? You haven’t been sunny lately.” Try adding, “OMG I saw something today that was so lovely and little. Can I tell you about it?”
So many of us admire Lizzo because in addition to making terrific music, she also lives in her body with no apologies. She models for us what it means to love your body no matter what some mainstream standard of beauty tells us we should hate. She is a miracle and a beacon. She’s also a HUMAN. And she’s hearing and has heard all the same messages as you and me, and the way she’s lighting the way for us is energy expensive.
I hope someone is calling up Lizzo to say, “Did you see the video of the lawyer who couldn’t turn off his cat filter in Zoom court? You will LAUGH.”
The TL; DR of this: You enjoy the presence of your friends who are open to experiencing and sharing delight. It’s a choice they make out of love for you. They are not less human than anyone else. They could use the favor returned.
So here! For all the Pep Factories out there who are ready to board up your windows and cry in the dark, here is Ross Gay reading 15 minutes of PURE LIGHT, his poem “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude.” I listened to it this morning, and now I can go on, lighting other candles from my candle, which was lit from this poem this morning.
Reblogging because I just started watching Ted Lasso, and now I’m worried about him, too. Ted, you’ve got the energy this world needs, and I love you, and I want to give you a hug.























