It’s strange how some phrases stick with you. Like this one painted on a piece of furniture abandoned in an attic. I like the phrase, “Take some care.” I’ve been thinking a lot about the word “care” lately, in all of its many meanings. It’s all at once such a simple and a complicated word. You can take care or give care, you can be a caretaker (which is not someone who takes care) or a caregiver. You can be care-full or care-less, care-free or care-worn.

During the pandemic, I often had the feeling that at that strange time, it was hard to care about the future, especially for young people. Everything was so strange and uncertain and there was no knowing how it would end or what the world would look like when it did. And these days, everything in the U.S. and beyond feels like a waking nightmare. The future is uncertain once again, and the onslaught of depressing and infuriating news seems almost designed to make us feel so powerless there’s no point in caring. It’s almost too painful to care.

Right now, in our troubled times, the ruling party (I use the word “ruling” advisedly, as the president openly talks about his third term) ran on a platform that literally read, “Fuck your feelings.” And the crown prince openly said that the fundamental weakness of Western civilization is empathy. Western Civilization is such an idiotic phrase in the first place. How is anyone still using it? For all of the flaws in the concept of “Western Civilization” and any of the flaws of history or humanity that led to it, empathy was never one of them.

Add to all that the fact that increasingly everything seems so carelessly made — cheap and disposable, designed to break so that we’ll buy another. Even art and poetry and music are more sensational than substantial. They can all be created by robots, with no human care at all. And it’s that “why bother?” feeling again. Why bother taking the time to make something when it’s no longer valued? How can you support yourself financially or emotionally when you put hours and effort into something only to cast it into a silent and indifferent void?

In the world as it is today, maybe caring is an act of defiance, a rebellion: Caring for people or making something with care. Caring about the direction our world is going or the health of the world we live on. Taking care with the things we create. Taking time with them, against all reason and against all odds and against the constant small and large demands and worries of life as we know it.

Because it feels good to take care with something, and it feels good to care about something. Art for care’s sake. As the world flashes by in bright colors and loud noises, in hate and anger and cynicism, it feels good to take a step aside and work on something good.

It doesn’t need to be a big thing. It can be a small everyday thing, made better if you approach it with care. It’s exhausting to feel half-alive all day long, as time flies by on its strong swift wings. Because every day is so full of things that need to be done, it’s hard to truly care about it all. But in a world where you can’t always be enthusiastic about everything you have to do, you can at least be passionate about everything you choose to do: the music you listen to, the books you read, the walks you walk, the meals you cook.

And it feels good to care about people. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again and again: It all boils down, for me, to Alyosha’s statement in Brothers Karamazov. “Do you know, Lise, my elder told me once to care for most people exactly as one would for children, and for some of them as one would for the sick in hospitals.” That’s to care for all people. Loved ones and total strangers, too. People whose experience in life is nothing like ours. If we truly valued caring, as a nation, if we took care of the people around us, we couldn’t commit the atrocities we’re currently committing. It’s April fools’ day. People who see empathy as a weakness might think it’s foolish to care or even to talk about caring. Looking at the world those people are currently creating, I want to be that kind of fool.

I’m so happy to share such beautiful art and words in this month’s issue! All of this is such a testament to the glory of taking care with what we create.

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