The Serenity Prayer hung in my husband Frank's childhood home. No one knows why for sure. Nobody in his family (at that time) was in recovery but there it hung, nonetheless.
God, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
The courage to change the things I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
A young Frank read these words and they became his life philosophy. I've never known anyone to live them more fully.
I, on the other hand, understand the prayer intellectually but have a hell of a time actually following it.
The political events of the past months have required me to reorient to the serenity prayer. The fate of our country and democracy itself is held in the balance between an old white man's narcissism, and the surprise candidacy of a young Black woman (just a few months younger than I!). I need the Serenity Prayer like a life raft in a chaotic dystopian sea. I need to not just understand serenity, courage and wisdom. I need to practice them. To embody them.
God*, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
Control is my drug of choice. I want to use it all the time on everything. And like all drugs, it can only do so much (often not as well as I hope), it has negative side effects, and its overuse is harmful. In reality, the things I can control are very, very few.
I can't control what other people, politicians, or parties do. I can't control elections, appointments, or Project 2025. I can't control the weather, the seasons, or if the deer eat our hostas. I can't control the price of vegetables, traffic conditions, or the wildfires in California.
Most things, Susan, no matter how much you fret, rail, and worry, are way, way out of your control. What’s more, I regularly forget that serenity does not mean agreement or approval.
NOTE TO SELF: Just because I'm calm, does not mean I'm OK with what's happening.
Serenity allows acceptance which gives solid ground from which to choose and act. Serenity and acceptance invite me to drop the rope, stop pushing the river, to stop shaking my fist at the sky. Serenity and acceptance allow me to ask, what part of this is out of my hands and what part of this might I act to change?
Which leads to…
The courage to change what I can.
This part of the prayer makes me think of leading marches, sitting in the front of buses, writing speeches that change minds, and acting to uphold justice. And sure, these things are incredible change-makers, of course. But all of those big actions are actually the culmination of smaller ones.
When I think of the second line of the prayer, I focus on the small.
The people whose names we know for making the world a more just and equitable place were supported by many, many others. A thousand small acts (and folks) contributed to the big, famous ones.
And most of the time the change I can make is even smaller: holding the door for someone, being kinder than necessary or making myself a cup of tea.
My best friend, when faced with the hopelessly depressing enormity of the news, took a power washer to everything within her reach. She couldn't change the dumpster fire of politics, but she could clean the shit out of her porch.
When you think about what you can change, start small. What's a small thing you could do that would make things better...even a little?
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Ahh, the last line. The discernment between what's in my control and what's out of it. Sometimes this is a fine line (does it really help to phone bank and write post cards?**) but when I take a step back, the difference between what is in my sphere of influence and what isn’t is clear.
In his influential 1989 book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Steven Covey wrote about the Circle of Influence. The Circle of Influence – those things that you can change or have an impact on – is differentiated from the Circle of Concern – things that you care about but over which you have no control or influence. Covey’s idea is that those who focus more on their Circle of Influence are more effective and feel better about their lives and the world than those whose focus is largely on their Circle of Concern.
When I think about the last line of the Serenity Prayer, I do my best to put my attention on the things that I have total control over (what *I* think, say, do) and things that I have partial control or influence over (like volunteering for a cause or campaign that matters to me, or reading and learning about something that feels confusing or overwhelming).
If I’m awake at 3am, it’s likely I’m swimming, drowning in my Circle of Concern. The time I spend in that circle is not well spent. It’s madness. Once I’m vertical, I do my best to shift to the more productive Circle of Influence.
For my skittish, anxious mind, the Serenity Prayer offers guidance about where to put my time, attention and energy. I find that the three invitations for serenity, courage and wisdom are always helpful to move me away from helplessness and into positive, productive action.
It’s been said*** that worry is praying for something you don’t want. The Serenity Prayer is a rudder that nudges me into my Circle of Influence and out of the swirling abyss of my Circle of Concern. And when I forget, Frank is always there to remind me.
* Not everybody is down with the word “God.” For me, it means the mysterious force of unconditional love. If another term works for you, slide it in. Or leave it out.
** Short answer: YES! Longer answer: Do what you can for the candidates you care about. Contribute, write, text, call, canvas, join me for a Move For Kamala event on September 21...whatever you are able to do! It all helps.
*** By whom were these wise words spoken? Jen Sincero? Donna Stoneham? Robert Downey, Jr.? The Bible? It’s unclear where it originated but this does not change the wisdom of the sentiment.