In recent years, I’ve adopted a mantra that most people may find strange and even alarming. Due to the potential reaction, I don’t tend to share it with others, because it’s easy to misconstrue without a thorough amount of explanation. Even then, I imagine that many will continue to worry about my psyche and, if they are so inclined, pray for my soul as well.
With that sort of a buildup, you probably couldn’t imagine me refraining from sharing it, so here goes.
“Nothing matters.”
See? That reaction. The one you just had. The one where you’re about to message me or call for a wellness check or text my psych NP spouse. Before you do any of that, let me explain. I’ll start with the very first time I adopted it.
It was the day pandemic shutdowns began in March 2020. I was sitting with a group of clergy colleagues, and the hot topic of our gathering was the looming announcement from our state government that schools and other entities were to be closed. We were wondering together what implications that decision might have for our faith communities. Should we follow suit? Would this be the right move to keep our people safe?
We were on shaky ground, and so much was uncertain about ministry and about the world in general that afternoon. That school announcement did come, and the decisions regarding our churches soon followed at varying intervals. Facing this much uncertainty and loss of control, I thought (and probably said), “whatever, nothing matters.”
It was my best way of giving voice to accepting that I was in untrodden territory, of naming that none of us knew what even the next few hours would bring, let alone the next few days or weeks. We couldn’t see further than our own noses in that moment, a moment that would stretch into years and in some ways is still going.
Due to a lack of long-term foresight, what we could do instead is, as Glennon Doyle is fond of saying, the next right thing. Nothing further into the future matters, because we don’t know what will happen out there. So let’s just focus on the next step forward instead.
I applied this to many moments during shutdowns. I applied it to martial arts in times of injury. I applied it to my own recovery from COVID when I tested positive. For me, to say “nothing matters” is to give up on the notion that the long-term narrative has to go a certain way. Instead, let’s just see what happens in the next hour or day.
Even with that explanation, this may sound too hope-less. And yet I’d argue that it’s just approaching hope from a different angle. One can still have hope for positive outcomes off past the horizon. But such hope recognizes that we don’t actually know because that view is too far for us to be able to predict or manage.
Instead, we can direct our hope to whatever is right in front of us. And if we string enough of those together, maybe that horizon will turn out okay.
If you enjoyed this reflection, check out my Advent book, Four Weeks: Reflections for Advent.
Jeffrey A. Nelson 