Letting It Go for Lent

On caring deeply without sacrificing myself

I grew up Catholic.

Every year around this time, Lent meant small sacrifices. As a boy, I often gave up sweets, candy, chocolate, desserts. It was never easy. I remember the tug of wanting what I could not have, the small negotiations with myself, and the quiet pride that came with sticking it out. Lent was framed as sacrifice, as discipline, as a way of strengthening faith through giving something up.

Somewhere along the way, my relationship to religion shifted. I would now describe myself as more spiritual than religious. I have not formally given up anything for Lent since I was a boy. The ritual faded, but the memory stayed tucked away.

Lately, though, Lent has been finding me again.

I have been feeling deeply disheartened by what is happening here in the United States. The divide. The conflict. The erosion of shared truth. I want to stay informed. I want to be a responsible, engaged human. But lately, staying informed has begun to feel heavy in my body.

Reading the news no longer feels neutral. It tightens my chest. It leaves a low grade sadness that lingers long after I turn it off. What once felt like awareness now feels like overwhelm.

Beneath the overwhelm is something harder to admit. Helplessness. Frustration with uncertainty. A longing for steadiness in a moment that feels profoundly unsteady.

I have felt this helplessness before. I know that when I act from awareness rather than overwhelm, it can make a difference. But this season feels different. This time, the work is inward.

In the spirit of Lent, I began to notice something important. I am sacrificing something.

But it is not sugar or sweets.

I am sacrificing myself.

My nervous system. My sense of steadiness. My capacity for presence and connection. I am offering my well being on the altar of constant consumption, convincing myself that this is what responsibility looks like.

That realization stopped me.

If the purpose of Lent is sacrifice, then perhaps this year my practice is not about giving something up out of obligation or guilt. Perhaps it is about reclaiming something I have been quietly losing.

For Lent, I am letting go of watching and listening to the news.

This is not about denial or apathy. It is not about pretending that real pain and injustice do not exist. It is about recognizing my limits and honoring them. I am not at my best when I am chronically dysregulated and emotionally flooded.

I can care deeply and still choose rest. I can stay engaged and protect my nervous system. I can trust that stepping back for a season is not abandonment, but discernment.

As a boy, giving up sweets taught me about restraint and patience. As an adult, letting go of the news feels like a return to myself. A reclaiming of steadiness. A quieter, more embodied way of being in the world.

This Lent, I am choosing not to sacrifice myself.

Instead, I am choosing my well being.

I am curious to see what this season of care will teach me.