We Have Better Things to Do
On Fools, Foolishness, and Not Wasting Our Time on Them
It has been two weeks since we learned of Dolly Parton’s passing. It was stunning news because we hadn’t known she was ill and because I thought she would be around forever. She was simply timeless.
I read so many tributes to Dolly over the next two weeks, and every one of them was touching in its own way. She seemed to be loved by everyone, which is quite an accomplishment in a country where we can apparently turn anything into an argument.
One of the tributes that really stayed with me was written by her younger sister, Stella. I knew Dolly had quite a few siblings, but I didn’t know much about any of them.
Stella, whom Dolly called Tedda, wrote that she and Dolly spoke most mornings by phone over coffee, just catching up with each other, gossiping a bit, and talking about world events. Tedda said she became terribly frustrated by all the negativity and upheaval in the world and complained about it quite a bit. Dolly would tell her, “Shoot, Tedda, we’ve got more important things to do than worry about their silly asses.”
I want to put that statement above my desk, on the bathroom mirror, and on the front door so I can see it before I leave the house. I am also considering tattooing it on the inside of my middle finger, where it could serve as both a reminder and, when necessary, a public service announcement.
I wish I could carry it out with as much grace as Dolly did.
Of course, Dolly was a wealthy and powerful woman, and that provided a buffer from some of the harsher realities of the world. But she truly cared about the issues affecting ordinary people, and she didn’t just speak about them. She made things happen.
Her father was unable to read or write, so literacy became deeply important to her. In 1995, she founded Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, which began by sending books to children in her home county in East Tennessee. The program now sends more than three million free books every month to children in five countries.
That is a great deal more useful than arguing with strangers on the internet.
Dolly’s words were not an invitation to ignore suffering, remain silent in the face of cruelty, or pretend that terrible things are not happening. She paid attention. She cared. She simply seemed to understand that caring about something does not require handing it permanent lodging in your nervous system.
This is where I struggle.
I know that paying attention matters. I believe we have a responsibility to know what is happening in the world and to speak when something important needs to be said. But there is a difference between being informed and repeatedly marinating ourselves in outrage. There is a difference between taking meaningful action and allowing every foolish person with a microphone, social-media account, or elected position to set up housekeeping in our heads.
Our brains, unfortunately, are drawn to threat, conflict, and bad news. They are trying to protect us, but they are not especially discerning. A genuine danger, a ridiculous remark, and an alarming headline can all set off the same internal warning system. Once activated, the mind wants to keep checking. Perhaps something else terrible has happened in the twelve minutes since we last looked.
Usually, something has.
The people profiting from our attention understand this very well. Outrage keeps us clicking, watching, reading, commenting, and returning for updates. There is always another appalling statement, another manufactured controversy, and another person behaving as though basic human decency were an unreasonable burden imposed by an overreaching government agency.
If we are not careful, we can spend an astonishing amount of our one precious life reacting to people we do not respect.
This does not mean we should become indifferent. It means becoming more deliberate about where we place our attention and what we do with what we know. We can vote. We can call our representatives. We can support organizations doing meaningful work. We can protect people who are vulnerable, speak honestly, and refuse to cooperate with cruelty.
Then perhaps we can put down the phone and go do something that adds a little goodness to the world.
Dolly did not merely worry about childhood literacy. She put books into children’s hands. She saw a need, decided what she could do about it, and did it—on an enormous scale and, because she was Dolly, probably while wearing rhinestones.
Most of us do not have Dolly Parton’s money, influence, or ability to make sequins look appropriate before noon. But we do have some say over how we use our time, attention, and energy.
We can ask ourselves whether what we are doing is helping. Is this conversation moving anything forward? Is reading one more article going to deepen my understanding, or am I feeding my anxiety? Am I taking action, or am I simply circling the same distressing thoughts until I have worn a trench through my brain?
Sometimes the answer will be that we need to stay engaged. Some things are too important to ignore. At other times, the wisest response may be to recognize that we are once again worrying about their silly asses.
Time becomes more precious as we get older. I feel that in a way I didn’t when I was thirty, when life seemed to stretch endlessly ahead and I could afford to squander an entire afternoon being aggravated by someone who richly deserved it. Now I am less willing to donate my remaining years to fools and foolishness.
There are books to read and words to write. There are paintings waiting to be made, people to love, cats to attend to, and places in this astonishing world I have not yet seen. There is work that matters and beauty I might miss if I spend all my time staring at ugliness.
The foolishness will continue without my supervision. I am increasingly confident of that.
I want to care deeply without being consumed. I want to remain informed without allowing every fresh absurdity to hijack my day. I want to put my energy into what I can protect, create, heal, or change.
And when I find myself drifting back into the endless churn of outrage, I hope I can hear Dolly’s voice:
“Shoot, Tedda, we’ve got more important things to do than worry about their silly asses.”
Indeed we do.
Janet Nash, MSW, LISW-S, Yoga Therapist, CCTP, is a psychotherapist, writer, and founder of Interiority Wellness. Her work explores mental health, generational healing, creativity, nature, and the quiet ways we find our way back to ourselves.
