There’s a clear reason why the Chicken Soup for the Soul series sold over 500,000,000 copies. Beyond their formula for testing each story with audiences before publication, the general theme has resonated with an incomparably sized book audience. The need for emotional and mental nourishment was met for millions by these kind, tender, and relatable books for every imaginable market segment: from nurses, pre-teens, and dog lovers, to those with back pain and cancer (I sure hope not at the same time).
I don’t know about you, but I could use a new version today: Chicken Soup for the Pandemic-Fatigued Soul.
I could also use one for Election Fatigue, Racial and Social Injustice Sadness, Utah Earthquake Rattled Soul, Western U.S. Forest Fire Soul, Southern Hurricane Soul, Political Rhetoric Soul, and maybe best of all, the Barely Holding On Soul.
Recently I’ve found myself craving self-care, self-renewal, and self-investment. I’m giving all I have to everyone around me and every challenge that pops up on my constantly scanning radar, and I need to slow it down. Like to a halt, and turn inward. It’s hard for me because it feels selfish and self-serving. I am immensely fortunate this far (either by luck or strategy) to have avoided contracting the virus. I still have my career, our three sons are still thriving in live, in-person school, and my future professional opportunities seem brighter each day. I know this is not everyone’s story. I’m very mindful of that.
This is not the narrative for much of our country and world. I can’t help, because I have a conscience, thinking about all those I know and don’t know who are struggling physically, emotionally, financially. Struggling even to find the will to live these days. It’s very real. Don’t tell me in the past eight months you’ve not felt overwhelmed and even asked yourself, “What’s the point?”
So, here’s some encouragement: We’re gonna make it through.
A safe vaccine will arrive. We will all find a job or even a career again. The pain we’re experiencing from those we’ve lost will never leave, but it will subside. The sun will come up tomorrow. Let’s try to find joy in any place or anyone we can. The fall leaves. The winter snow. A slice of pumpkin pie or a Christmas stocking full of junk from The Dollar Store.
Let’s all practice some self-care. I don’t think Jack Canfield needs any more money, but perhaps search for one of his hundreds of titles and delve into it. If you need a friend to talk with, email me. I’m here for you: Scottjeffreymiller@franklincovey.com
Nourish your soul. And then find someone who needs you to nourish theirs. But do it in that order for a change.
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