Monday’s Reflection: I’d Like My Life Back

It’s July.

The tomatoes are growing. The flowers need watering. The dog wants another walk before the Indiana heat settles in for the day. Dale and I find ourselves watching travel videos, dreaming about where our feet might take us next. I’m celebrating one book already published, preparing to release my second this week, working toward an AI certification, and building a fourteen-lesson online course.

In other words…

I’m trying to build a life.

A beautiful one.

A meaningful one.

A peaceful one.

So why do I keep finding myself pulled back into politics?

Believe me, I’ve asked myself that question.

I’d much rather spend my mornings writing than doom-scrolling.

I’d rather learn about artificial intelligence than constitutional crises.

I’d rather think about my next book than my next blood pressure reading after another headline.

I don’t want politics occupying this much space in my mind.

But I also don’t know how to ignore what I believe is happening to the country I love.

People sometimes say, “Just stop watching the news.”

I wish it were that simple.

When you care deeply about your country, looking away doesn’t feel peaceful.

It feels like abandoning your post.

I keep asking myself questions that I honestly cannot answer.

How did we get to a place where truth became optional?

How did we become so willing to excuse behavior we once would have found unacceptable?

How did lying become so ordinary that millions of Americans barely react anymore?

Donald Trump did not suddenly become someone who exaggerates or misleads. His relationship with the truth has been scrutinized for years. That isn’t new.

What troubles me is something much bigger.

It’s that so many people have decided it doesn’t matter.

Even more troubling to me is watching members of Congress—people elected to provide oversight and defend our constitutional system—too often remain silent when I believe they should be speaking. Our system was designed with checks and balances for a reason. No president, regardless of party, should be beyond accountability.

And then there’s one phrase I wish we could retire once and for all.

“The Deep State.”

Every time something goes wrong…

The Deep State.

Every time a career public servant disagrees with an administration…

The Deep State.

Every time facts become inconvenient…

The Deep State.

Here’s what I believe.

America has millions of career public servants. They process Social Security checks. They inspect our food. They forecast hurricanes. They care for veterans. They manage our national parks. They conduct scientific research. They keep airplanes safe. They serve Republican administrations and Democratic administrations alike because their oath is to the Constitution—not to a president. Claims of a vast, coordinated “deep state” secretly controlling the government have not been supported by credible evidence, even though the phrase has become a common political talking point. (Brookings)

Can government agencies make mistakes?

Absolutely.

Can bureaucracies become inefficient?

Of course.

Should government always be questioned?

Without question.

That’s democracy.

But questioning government is very different from convincing Americans that every inconvenient fact is proof of an invisible conspiracy.

That doesn’t strengthen democracy.

It weakens it.

Here’s the part I want you to hear.

I’m not writing this because I enjoy being angry.

I’m writing it because I’d like my life back.

I’d like to spend more time creating than worrying.

More time encouraging than warning.

More time planning trips than reading court opinions.

More time laughing with my family than wondering what headline will appear tomorrow morning.

But I also know this.

Real patriotism isn’t pretending everything is fine.

Real patriotism isn’t cheering for one political party while ignoring the damage done by your own side.

Real patriotism isn’t loyalty to a politician.

It’s loyalty to the principles that make America worth loving in the first place: truth, accountability, equal justice, the peaceful transfer of power, and a Constitution that places no one above the law.

I care because I am a patriot.

I speak because I am a patriot.

I refuse to surrender truth because I am a patriot.

And while I hope someday to spend less time writing about politics and more time writing about possibility, I don’t believe silence is the price of peace.

So I’ll keep writing my books.

I’ll keep learning.

I’ll keep building.

I’ll keep loving this imperfect country.

Because I still believe America is worth fighting for—not with violence or vengeance, but with courage, compassion, and an unwavering commitment to the truth.

That is the kind of patriotism I choose.

Every single day.

Julie Bolejack, MBA

The Mindful Activist

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