Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

Bring Your Own Popcorn

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys: How to Survive the Chaos of Washington (And Other Dramas) Without Losing Your Mind

Image by DALLe

I don’t know about you, but these days, watching the news feels a lot like sitting front row at the world’s messiest circus. There’s always something dramatic happening—monkeys on the loose, clowns spilling out of tiny cars, and ringmasters who can’t seem to agree on where the spotlight should go. It’s chaotic, exhausting, and occasionally hilarious if you squint just right.

But here’s the thing: as much as we might want to jump in and fix the madness, most of us aren’t in the ring. We’re in the audience, watching it all unfold. And while it’s tempting to throw peanuts (or maybe something less kind), the real power we have lies in choosing how we respond.

Because, let’s face it, we probably won’t like much of what happens. But since there’s only so much we can do about it, the one thing we can control is how we take care of ourselves through it all. And that’s where the art of detachment comes in.

Let’s talk about how to master it—without losing your mind (or your sense of humor).

Step One: Understand the Limits of Your Influence

Here’s the thing: You’re not the ringmaster. You’re not even the person holding the peanuts. Yes, voting and activism are important, but beyond that, the circus is gonna circus. When we accept that there are limits to what we can control, it frees up a lot of mental energy. So, instead of yelling at the news, save your voice for karaoke night.

Step Two: Embrace Detachment as a Survival Skill

Detachment doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you care enough about your sanity to not let chaos rent space in your brain. Imagine standing outside the circus, leaning on the fence with a good book in one hand and a bucket of buttery popcorn in the other. The monkeys might be rioting, but you’re calm, cool, and perhaps even entertained by the absurdity. That’s the energy we’re going for.

Pro tip: When the circus tries to pull you in, remember this mantra: Not my circus, not my monkeys. Say it as often as needed. Write it on your bathroom mirror. Heck, tattoo it on your forehead if you must (but maybe backward so it reads correctly in selfies).

Step Three: Prioritize Self-Care Over Political Drama

While Washington plays out its latest drama, you have a job to do—taking care of yourself. That means logging off X (try Bluesky instead — I’m @brightwings45.bsky.social), drinking enough water, and maybe going outside for a walk. Your mental health matters more than trying to keep up with the latest plot twist on Capitol Hill.

Find moments of joy where you can. Watch a silly movie. Take a long bath. Learn to juggle if you’re feeling thematic. Anything to shake off the dread of the future. There’s plenty of good things happening, if you look. When you take care of yourself, you’ll be better equipped to face the world—even if that world involves a three-ring circus of dysfunction.

Step Four: Remember, the Circus Won’t Last Forever

This particular circus act might feel endless, but like every performance, it will eventually come to an end. New acts will take its place, but the lesson remains the same: your happiness is not tied to the antics inside the tent.

Closing Thoughts: Keep Calm and Popcorn On

You can’t fix Washington (or anything happening on the world stage), but you can fix yourself a bowl of popcorn, settle into your favorite chair, and remember that the best way to survive the chaos is to step outside the tent. Stay informed, sure, but don’t let it consume you. Life is short, and there’s too much joy to be found outside the circus.

So, next time you feel your blood pressure rising over the latest debacle, lean back, take a deep breath, and repeat: Not my circus, not my monkeys.

If you’d like a little help detaching and focusing on what really matters, I’ve got something that might be just right for you. CLICK HERE