It’s inauguration week here in the U.S. and for me, it’s been an appropriately tremendous week. And by tremendous, I mean terrible. So like the “whiney-baby-snowflake” that I am, I’m going to complain a bit. I went back to school this week; at the age of almost-32, I am finally returning to a university atmosphere, just like I first did nearly fourteen years ago.

For the record, this is not a complaint. I am incredibly grateful to be on this journey, even though it was a little bittersweet to say goodbye to the city college arena which helped me grow and discover so much about myself. Don’t ever knock city colleges; it has been an honor to learn from the some of the most dedicated teachers I have ever met.

Starting back at the university was exciting, and also terrifying. For starters, I am now officially the old chick in the class, which is really fun and really humbling. Do you know how to spot the older person in the class? He or she is most likely that annoying student who feels compelled to respond to every question the professor asks while the rest of the class sits in complete silence.

Throw in the insecurity of a trying to find my around a foreign campus, trying to find classes that fit into a schedule that doesn’t interfere with my husband’s work or require babysitters (because we basically have none), and just trying not to step on anyone’s toes while inching my way along a path to self-fulfillment. And, couple that with an intense head cold, endured by my ten-month-old and me, two night classes, an early-morning class, my middle son’s insurance being randomly canceled, accidentally sending my daughter’s birthday invitations to our old house across town, and the pouring rain that for once, never seems to end: that was my week in a nutshell.

What does one do when bloodied and bruised from the week? Pack up the family, brave the flash flood warnings and severe weather, and retreat to the peace that can only be found by the living room fire in a tiny cabin in the woods.

Life can be scary; change can be scary. Clearly, we have a lot of people in this country who are afraid of a world that was different from their grandparents.’ But the world was meant to evolve; it has literally been doing it since day one. If it didn’t, we’d all be hanging out in caves or trees right about now, talking about how great fire is and who has the most loincloths. What can we do?

We cannot always retreat to a cabin in the woods, at least not indefinitely. But we can muster a little courage, and try to endure whatever this or any other storm may bring. We can continue to seek and share truth, and help diminish fear.

If you get discouraged, just think about the dudes who first proposed that the world was not flat. I’m pretty sure some of them were executed. But please don’t quote me; I would hate to spread more fake news. Long live truth, kindness, and love. Back to the fireside I go.