Musings at New Year's 2020-2021

Here they are. 

As per usual, despite having a really codified, documented process for creating my 'New Year's Intentions,' I ended up following my flow and mixing up my major annual reflection session, or what I've also taken to thinking about as my 'annual review' of sorts. Hell, as most of my work is independent contract-based, no one else gives me one, so I do it myself! This is NOT a complaint - I love it this way :). The twist this year took was feeling the push to document my major concepts I extracted from this most unusual of years. Normally, the product of this process would be really focused on how I intend to frame my upcoming year, based upon what I gathered in the previous one. This year, it felt really important to include a summation of what has been gathered.

The journals I filled this year

This process took a good ten hours (as it often does), including re-reading all of my personal writing from the past year and journalling thirteen new pages. As for the take-aways extracted from the year, I didn't simply Google "What 2020 Taught Us" or "Mantras for a Great New Year": the below is another example of consciously and carefully pouring time, energy and focus into long-form reflection. Now, more than ever, I believe so deeply in this practice. With that said, below are my major themes I extracted from this remarkable year. Most of them are far from new to my musings, but rather, an 'at this point in time' sum of them, framed in unexpected ways by the year's circumstances.

EXTRACT:

WONDER: In all its forms.

CHALLENGE: Needing to be.

MISSING v./ + DISCOVERING: Sometimes one is disguised as the other.

ADAPTATION + LIMITATION: Being flexible while creating and respecting boundaries.

CREATE <---REFLECT---> DESTROY: One isn't always better than the other. 

NOTICE, SIT WITH, BREATH THROUGH, ACT UPON: Don't stop at step one or two.

LOGIC + EMOTIONS + EMPATHY + KNOWLEDGE: One without the other three just doesn't cut it.

SEEKING TO UNDERSTAND: And in turn, being understood.

YES, AND: Multiple, simultaneous truths.

GROWTH: Despite, within, because of.

UNEXPECTED GIFTS: A pleasant side affect of expectation management.

NORMALIZING "I LOVE YOU": Self-explanatory :)

I could expound on each of the above at length, but I've already done that in my journal, and I'm keeping it all to myself: I'd rather let the above retain an air of mystery, depth, knowing . . . :)  So what will I do with all these lessons extracted from 2020? It seems we don't extract just to bottle up the precious result: next, we instill it somehow. As strange as it may sound at first . . . I wish to instill some of 2020 into 2021.

Many have hopped onto the "2020: Is It Over Yet?" bandwagon. On the other end of the spectrum, there's a lot of "Maybe this was the year we didn't know we needed" perspectives floating around too. I haven't haven't felt pulled too much either way: perhaps this is a result of coming to embrace "the grey area," as Kris conceptualizes the idea of understanding and appreciating that not everything is 'cut and dried,' as 'they' say. I think it is shortsighted to believe that '2020 being over will solve everything.' It won't: the process of 'bettering' is always ongoing. I also think it is shortsighted to think that '2020 was somehow a grand lesson we need to appreciate all of.' While I clearly believe in extracting value from my experiences, I'm not stuck behind rose-colored glasses that keep me from admitting that there were many ways that 2020 was awful. There's a third thing here. Yes + and.

That third thing, for me, must be Extract + Instill. I think I'd like to let all I extracted from 2020 be potential ingredients to instill into 2021. That said, it's quite a list, and trying to memorize and use it all, all the time, doesn't feel simple enough to me to really be effective. Another way I've never found too effective: literal, action-based intentions like "drink a gallon of water a day": to me, these sorts of directives have always felt bound to fail when not backed up by a deep understanding of why such habitual changes are important. It's that 'know your why' thing, as 'they' say. 

Nonetheless, I have two such things I'd like to give mention here so they, along with all my extractions, may spill into the 2021 soup: 1) I'd like to take larger windows of writing time on Friday, Saturday or Sunday to get deeper into the 'big things' than my typical weekday windows to allow, and 2) I'd like my self-directed movement practices to include, in this order: centering/ groove + musicality/ stretching/ strengthening/ balance.

Back to those extractions, and how they make quite a list I don't think effective to try and memorize. Rather, I'm going to choose one item to really focus on instilling into 2021: the top item, the one that felt and feels MOST important, what served/s as a baseline for the rest: WONDER.

INSTILL:

WONDER

I found this on an everyday basis in 2020, more than ever before, in all its meanings: a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable/ to desire or be curious to know something/ to feel doubt. That last meaning can seem like a bit of a downer, but I don't interpret it that way. In this case, I read 'to feel doubt' as to question, to follow curiosity (one of my carefully-defined values). While I do take the first two meanings more to heart, this third meaning feels like an apt bonus that can be used a particular way :)

In 2020, I didn't often find/ feel/ experience WONDER when I went looking for it. Rather, I had to cultivate being ready for it when it presented itself. This is much like my realization that in order to fly my kite more, I have to be ready to notice and harness when the wind presents itself. I'll admit that my ongoing high hopes to fly my kite more have not really been realized. That said, rather than believe I've failed in that way, I'm going to interpret it as 'perhaps you are just not as moved by getting your kite in the air as you wish you'd be, and that's ok.' It's there for the times it feels right. I digress.

I see the desire to instill WONDER into my 2021, and therein, my ongoing approach to life, a conscious choice to cultivate my senses of appreciation and imagination. Honestly, nothing I can think of feels more important to how I wish to work as an artist and a human. An artist-human.

So here's how I leap and bound into 2021: with a sense of wonder instilled into my beliefs and values, and they ways I manifest them - also known as my approach to life:

CONSCIOUSNESS ---> VITALITY & PURPOSE:

SIMPLICITY | KINDNESS | CURIOSITY | CREATIVITY

- BEING/S - MOVEMENT - FOOD - OUTDOORS - MUSIC - STYLE - 

The above is what feels most important for me to memorize, take to heart and consider - even if subconsciously - on a daily basis. It's taken me many years to define with words my beliefs and values, and how they manifest. They continue to shift over time to ring even more true to me. Even just at the start of 2020, they sat within slightly different words that made me consider them in slightly different ways. I am grateful for this ongoing process of looking inward at the New Year that began for me in eighth grade: I believe it's a crucial part of my developing ability to understand and appreciate that things are always shifting.

With all of this, I welcome 2021. 2021, I am prepared to meet you where you are, led by my carefully-defined beliefs and values and an understanding of how they manifest for me, instilled with a sense of WONDER extracted from my past experiences. With that, I'll finish with a bit of whimsical, direct-quotation from the journalling that led up to this post, inspired by my love for and sense of WONDER surrounding clouds:

Photo taken Summer 2020 at a friends farm outside Cannon Valley

"I love oscillating between grounding myself and floating among the clouds . . . I have my breath and they have their drift . . . together."

Bleak is Beautiful: Solstice Edition

What is this season offering to us?

Wait.

Appreciate.

As always, I'm not musing anything that hasn't been thought before. Everything old is new again . . .  to me and you and anyone and everyone else every time a journey through life is happening.

Today's 'not new' is the concept that it can feel quite easy for humans to rush toward the next thing without leaving space for gratitude for what is already there. Flip the coin for another 'not new': the idea of making shift within what you wish to and can, and embracing for what it offers that which you cannot change.

I'd like to think I came across this as a Zen Buddhist idea, but I'm honestly not sure, and I won't be going to find out. At least not right now. Sometimes feeding my curiosity is the thing I'm appreciating. Giving socio-historical context to the topic at hand. Sometimes, what I'm appreciating is my own pathway to considering the topic at hand, without having to prescribe it to a particular origin beyond my own experience. Everything old is new again. Finding my own way about the world, my own compass for guiding me on the path of being a good human.

Regardless, appreciation is there. It needs to be there. If it's not there, a lot is missed.

Back to seasons. When I say 'season' in this context, I less mean leaves falling and snow dropping, and more mean sections of life. Personal seasons feel small and individual, large and societal, and everything in between, and I'd posit that all of them overlap all the time. That said, humanity as a whole is experiencing a large, long, unexpected season together right now, in the shape of a pandemic, and I feel in my bones how fruitful it is to wait. Appreciate.

What is this season offering to us?

I can appreciate that having space to process this way is not a given for everyone all the time, which in a way makes me feel more push to be sure I am doing so. Cultivating and adding this approach to the world in my own small way.

Wait.

Appreciate.

What is this season offering to us?

Human-Made Imitates Nature

 

Leaf placed for dramatic affect ;)

Yesterday’s nature moment: 

Bleak is Beautiful.

 

Same Coin

 When I first spotted this scene, it made me sad.

Nobody?

I wasn't quite sure what the name tag said without looking quite a bit closer.

Face down, in the dirt and leaves, on a hidden path. Nobody.

Then, I looked up. Noticed the majestic sunrise through the trees easily more than double my age, and flipped the coin.

I think feeling like 'nobody' can be both sad and perspective-building. I won't go so far as to say 'positive' or 'happy,' but 'perspective-building' feels like the right way to say it.

It's that 'I am small' feeling. When everything around you feels overwhelming and the small becomes the big and your troubles feel like the center of the universe, it's understandable, because your standpoint is the only one you really look at from out your own body. That said, there are times the reminder that in the grand scheme, you are quite small, can be really helpful. It can make your own troubles seem more manageable and create a launchpad for empathy and action.

Perhaps 'nobody' isn't exactly the right way to say it. Regardless, finding this name tag the way I did feels no less poetic.

Zooming out provides that flipped coin picture: the one in which you are a small but significant part of the larger.

Emotionality is a Super-Power

And with great power comes great responsibility.

(image by Wendy Gerdeman)

The early bits of the sunrise this morning were . . . it's hard to put into words. The sky spilled out a selection of it's best Crayola Crayon colors, tossing royal purples and rusted oranges and flamingo pinks and jewel blues together into a beautiful soup that only the sky can make. As I leave my phone at home on my morning walks - this helps me with the 'in-the-moment-ness' I strive for on these jaunts - I did not get a picture. Here, it'll have to exist in the imagination.

It was so gorgeous that tears welled up in my eyes as I paused near Como Lake and took it all in.

I often joke that it doesn't take me much to cry. I won't go so far as to say that "I wear my heart on my sleeve," because if I did that, I'd likely be in a puddle on the floor by mid-afternoon each day. I also wouldn't say I'm an empath, though I do feel the emotions of others quite strongly. I DO think that a conscious cultivation of the ability to feel has been a central and ongoing aspect of my learning, un-learning and re-learning of 'how to be an artist.'

Typing 'how to be an artist' almost feels preposterous, as there is certainly not one way. That said, I DO think there are tools and concepts that can benefit almost anyone in almost any form with almost any aesthetic, and I would file direct access to emotionality in there with those tools and concepts. This includes ones own emotionality, as well as recognizing and appreciating the emotionality of others. Despite false dichotomous rhetoric of 'emotions v. logic' that seems to float around from and within various instigations and places in the world, the concept of 'emotional intelligence' has managed to gain ground and become recognized as a legitimate way that humans become more themselves, learn to relate to one another and navigate their world/s.

I have come across this false dichotomy of 'emotions v. logic' several times around this election season, often from folks who lean toward what we've taken to calling more 'conservative views,' suggesting that 'emotions' should not get in the way of your 'logic' when choosing who you'll vote for and how you'll navigate the current issues surrounding us. I find this idea to be so short-sighted. When has it ever been useful to reduce any human down to just one aspect of their personhood? While I DO believe 'emotions' and 'logic' are quite complex 'aspects,' as it were, to focus on just one of these, not the other, and potentially nothing else about their human experience feels reductionist in potentially harmful ways.

On the flip, this here human who tends toward what we've taken to calling more 'liberal' perspectives does not embrace 'emotions instead of logic,' she embraces 'emotions informed by logic.' 'Logic informed by emotions.' 'Logic + Emotions + Empathy + Knowledge + + +.' That 'Knowledge' word also feels quite important here. To believe that the logic you create yourself can stand without knowledge and other aspects of your human experience - including considering the human experiences of others - to buoy it can be just as harmful as basing your beliefs and actions upon emotions alone.

The more life experience I cultivate, the more I'm coming to believe that reductionism is easy. That making something seem simpler than it really is feels like a human tendency. A quoted concept often attributed to Albert Einstein (wow, I'm so basic right now) is that "Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler." What a brilliant insight. Yes, we are wooed by the 'easy.' 'Simple' is not always 'easy,' and I think 'emotions v. logic' is 'easy.' Simple yet complex is the concept that we humans are more than one of these things at once. ‘Yes and.’ We are our logic, and our emotions, and our empathy, and our knowledge, and SO many other things, all at once. Among our human challenges is learning how to balance all of this. Dare I say, I doubt that anyone ever masters this, but that it's something we continue to strive toward in life, in all it's iterations and for all of it's span. I tend to see this as inspiring, one among the human mysteries that each one of us never quite solves for ourselves, but helps to keep us curious as we move through it all.

Back to the 'emotionality' in this soup of thoughts. Needless to say considering all of the above, I am proud of how my career choice, the way I spend a lot of my time, my CALLING, whatever you want to CALL it, has developed within me a keen sense of emotionality. It's one among many of my super-powers that helps me make great (and sometimes mediocre and that's just how it is) art, that helps me feel my smallness and also my largesse, that helps me know the impact of the world upon me and me upon it. That said, this super-power is not the exclusive territory of artists, of course. It's there for anyone who chooses to walk within it, to feel it's power.

And with great power comes great responsibility.

Spines of Trees

 

Skeleton laid bare.

There is a beautiful vulnerability to trees without their leaves. They shed their fur, their outer, seemingly-protective layer to actually make themselves stronger for the Winter.

One of nature’s examples of vulnerability as strength.

I marvel at the openness of this particular tree. The way I can see the breath between it’s ribs (you are the wine between my ribs?!).

A reminder.

Visualize.

Find that breath in between your own ribs.

Share whatever amount of your own in-betweens you can muster.

What Do You Reflect Back?

 

. . . she asks herself.

She's the only one who can fully hold her to that question.

There's No Such Thing as Bad Weather . . .

 Only Bad Clothes.

Apparently this is a saying in many Scandinavian countries.

I love it.

I have long embraced the bundle. In the winter, I actually look forward to layering up to take my morning walks, no matter how cold and dark it may be. I really enjoy that I can continue this habit with just a little extra effort.

I like Winter. I like the nip of cold on my cheeks: it reminds me I'm alive! To breathe in deeply.

My snowpants are at the ready, waiting to be called into action for whatever which they may be needed. I have been brainstorming the various ways I could make them needed this Winter, in an effort to have ideas prepared when friends and family would like to spend Covid-safe time together. Some thoughts:

• Walks and/or hike in the woods (great wind-break!)
• Bonfires (add smores for extra fun!)
• Cross-country skiing or snowshoeing (Kris and I just bought some!)
• Skating
• Sledding
• Building snowmen
• Red Wing Holiday Stroll
• Winter Carnival
• Luminary Loppet (if held)

I'm honestly excited to keep spending lots of time outdoors this Winter! This is not new for me, and I welcome being joined by others who are ready to give it a try :)

Huzzah.

I Love A Walking Tempo

A walking bass-line?

A walking baseline?

A walking tempo. Also called a moderate tempo. I'm leaning into this word (in spite of its political connotations). Moderate. An adjective. Moderate. Also a verb. To moderate.

In moderation.

That has it's connotations too. "Everything in moderation." Helpful for some and not for others.

Back to that walking tempo. Moderate tempo. Walking baseline?

A moderate tempo is neither too fast nor too slow. A moderate tempo lets me sink into some moments and flurry through others. This juxtaposition of choices is delicious to me. I love having that moderate tempo to drive me forward in my groove while allowing for departure from it in either direction and on a large scale. 

A moderate tempo allows me the speed to sync with others and with the beat, making space to appreciate all the details in play.

A walking tempo tunes me into a sense of forward motion (well, it could be backwards, side to side, up and down . . . I certainly don't need to get righteous about always moving 'forward' here). A walking tempo connects me to a speed of groove that can comfortably be maintained in a way that also allows departure from it.

It feels like the speed of my heart, perhaps elevated ever so slightly as a reminder that I'm breathing in and out in this moment, surrounded by beings doing the same. A reminder that this should be cherished.

Quite a bas(e/s-)line.

Aimless Wander

Wander aimless?

Aim/less.

Aim less?

Wander aimlessly?

Aimlessly.

Wander.

Wonder?

I wonder what the true definition of wander is.

"To walk or move in a leisurely, casual, or aimless way." - Oxford English Dictionary.

Aimless.

"Without a purpose or direction." - Oxford English Dictionary.

When I think of 'aim,' I do immediately think 'direction.' Aiming in a particular direction. With both of these words/ ideas, I also think of the concept of 'goals.' Things that demarcate purpose. And 'purpose,' to me, is a very powerful concept.

So why does it feel so powerful to 'wander aimlessly'?

My daily morning walk is purposefully aimless. A chance in my day to let wander-wonder unfold and to head in whatever direction/s I seem pulled toward, curious about or feel right. That aimlessness is an aim unto itself.

I also tend to get thinking on my walks, no matter how purposefully I try to keep my head in the clouds and the moment. I suppose I mostly begin that way, and that sense of aloft carries me into the things I find myself wondering about. This morning, it was this idea of 'aimless.'

I've been feeling that way, in and out for the last I suppose 7 and a 1/2 months now. For quite awhile, I've been thinking '6,' but time as collected upon itself. Some days within this span, I've felt quite alive, purposeful, with aim, however different it might have been than I was imagining it would be, direction-wise, some 8 months ago. Other days (moments?), I feel stymied, irresolute, aimless. 

But should 'aimless' always be paired with such words? Is it really that pious to always be charging in a particular direction? Isn't an amount of 'head in the clouds, aimless wander' necessary to find your breath, feel the breeze, notice the unnoticed, connect with the moment?

What good is a direction if it doesn't also allow for the genuine feeling of it's movement along the way?

I once again come back to balance. Finding the grey-scale among the seemingly black and white, it not just to know it's there.

I'd like for finding that grey-scale to feel less messy sometimes, but (hold on, another mediocre metaphor coming) what would there be to organize if there were not some kind of 'messy' first? And boy, do I like to organize.

Aimless wander.

In/ Out

 In/ Out

Out/ In?

In/ Out.

Breathe. Water. Food. Ideas. Relationships. Art.

Got thinking again this morning about creativity. What defines it? Who does it belong to? So often, 'creativity' is positioned as within the realm/s of art and design (and perhaps culinary circles). I often find myself stuck thinking 'creativity' means creating art. That's simply not the case, yeah?

Input/ Output.

I've thought a lot about that concept within the last several years, and I'm really coming to believe it cannot be a 'chicken or the egg?' concept: without that breathe and water and food, how would the body be able to function well enough to create ideas?

There is a rampant beauty in the release of 'creativity' from the grip of art, let loose into every other aspect of how the world turns, and more importantly, how that turning is perceived. It is my own challenge that creativity, for me, has been held in such bounds. Disruption of this opens me up to perceiving the turning and churning and twirling in the creation of nourishing meals from whatever is in the cupboards that nourish relationships that nourish people that nourish communities that nourish the planet, out into the damn stars.

Water.

Deep breaths.

Input/ Output.

In/ Out

Dull Roar

Dull roar

Startling crack

Peaceful whisper

Dull roar

Startling crack

Peaceful whisper

Dull roar dull roar dull roar

Startling crack startling crack startling crack

Peaceful whisper

Dull roar

Startling crack

Startling crack

Startling crack

Peaceful whisper

Startling crack

Dull roar

Dull roar

Peaceful whisper

Startling crack

Dull roar

Peaceful whisper

Dull roar

Startling crack

Dull roar peaceful whisper dull roar peaceful whisper peaceful whisper peaceful whisper 

Startling crack

Dull roar dull roar dull roar dull roar dull roar dull roar startling crack dull roar dull roar dull roar startling crack dull roar dull roar dull roar startling crack dull roar dull roar dull roar starling crack dull roar

Dullroardullroardullroardullroardullroardullroarstartlingcrackdullroardullroardullroarstartlingcrackdullroardullroardullroarstartlingcrackdullroardullroardullroarstarlingcrackdullroar

Peaceful whisper

Peaceful whisper

Peaceful whisper

Peaceful whisper peaceful whisper peaceful whisper

Beautiful and Horrifying.

What more is there to say? That utterance pretty much sums up this last six months for me.

I suppose both 'beautiful' and 'horrifying' are pretty strong ways to describe things, so it makes sense that they were one another's logical opposites when I was trying to zero in on a way to describe the sunrise this morning. And yesterday. And the day before.

So many pockets of unexpected beauty and growth, along with so many pockets of unexpected loss and difficulty. Pendulum, yin and yang, balance . . .

I suppose the best you can ask from yourself in the midst of things you cannot control is to come to the moment and be adaptable. See the moment for what it is immediately, and invest enough care into allowing it to become other things too.

Horrifying . . . and beautiful.

Markers

My garden never got quite big enough to need markers.

I suppose it was planted that way.

Markers. Indicators. Whether in sign-posts, feelings or moments, markers help us know what's happening when. 

This year has lacked a lot of my usual markers of time and understanding . . . the beginning of Saints season, summer festivals, State Fair. These annual events are part of my larger routine that helps me get a mental and emotional grasp on where I am within the year, of my relationships, of the march of time. 

The march of time. Ever-forward, relentlessly. Maybe there can be some inspiration uncovered in considering how the various events of the past six months have disrupted the sense of time of many. Is it always marching forward, relentlessly? In a way, that idea is inspiring, this comfort that no matter what happens, time will continue in it's forward pathway. In another way, the idea that time is malleable, that we are always taking trips into the future and back into our multitude of pasts, is also inspiring.

It has been difficult for me to not see and/ or experience my usual markers. As much as I have a keen sense of adventure (at its very minimum defined by things as simple as getting up earlier than normal and taking my morning walk somewhere unusual for me), I also thrive on routine. I think I'm realizing that how I really thrive is a combination of these two things, and that the later is the one that has been more missing as of late.

I'm thirsting for better routine right now, and without a full schedule to create that structure for me, I'm going to have to do it myself. It's a good thing right now that I am pretty self-motivated, and have a history of being able to set up and stick to structures for myself. That said, given this, I tend to get disappointed when I am not able to this as quickly and successfully as I'd expected. I'm typing this to myself to ask myself to be as gentle with me as I would be with anyone else.

My garden got plated without markers for a reason: I chose to keep it simple. I wish to chose that same thing when creating new markers of time, energy, space this Fall. I don't quite know yet what they are going to indicate, but I know they will point me in the directions of movement and sharing it with others, good meals and quality time.

Markers. Off, with gentleness, to determine what they will be for a while here.

Clouded Judgement

 What composes the clouds? They form for a lot of reasons.

We are all the hero in our own story.

Colloquially, the phrase "clouded judgement" is often used in a negative way, to suggest that our mind was somehow foggy and the fog got the better of us. This is too bad for clouds, who already often have such a bad rep. As the Cloud Appreciation Society (of which I am a proud member - #47923) says, I think it worth the "pledge to fight ‘blue-sky thinking’ wherever we find it. Life would be dull if we had to look up at cloudless monotony day after day." I suppose within this metaphor, this goes to say that clouds, regardless of what form them, are what inform our judgement as we navigate the skies of life.

Now I'm going to overboard with "it's a metaphor." In all seriousness, I suppose what I am trying to think through is the idea that "clouded judgement" doesn't have to imply poor choice.

Yesterday, I lost a job I had for three weeks. I put what I'd estimate to be 70+ hours into on boarding, communications and planning for classes that I'd never teach at an institution that I hadn't yet worked for, and for which I will receive no compensation. When it came down to it, their clouds were different than my clouds, and none of them were moving in the same direction. I was clouded by protecting the safety and compensation measures I'd already flexed on quite a bit in agreeing to terms for the job, they were clouded by lack of resources to deliver on safety measures and lack of willingness to deliver on payment I'd agreed to. I am clouded by the need to balance advocating for myself while accepting work I love and need, and they are clouded by promises made to students (concerning educational delivery methods during Covid and tuition rates) that cannot be squared with needs for available facilities and qualified teachers.

I think this all related back to an idea that I've kept returning to this past six months (and really, increasingly over the last several years, in part thanks to boo): NOTHING is ever as simple as it seems. It seems that humans really desire things to be as simple as possible. I definitely desire this myself. Albert Einstein is attributed to once saying (oh wow, she's employing over-used quotes now): “Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler." The last part is the key - "but no simpler." It seems that MOST things are more complex than we humans tend to give them credit for at first. I can at least speak for myself in saying that is often true for me.

This is true in relationship to the job scenario I described above, and it is true for the woman who practically brushed my shoulder with hers when running up from behind me on the sidewalk to pass me this morning. My initial instinct is to think she is a total bitch who only thinks of herself and Covid as a hoax. Upon second (ok, maybe third or fourth thought), I remember that she is, like everyone else, a complete and complex human. She has a walk through life that I don't know all of the details about. So do the folks at the job described above who run the institution I was excited to teach for and unfortunately had to walk away from. So do the folks whose political opinions seem abhorrent to me.

Needed to be able to tell that runner "a little space, please." Usually, I am able to muster that phrase when something like that happens. In this instance, I was caught so off-guard that I couldn't call it up to utter. Despite not having been able to muster up that phrase in that situation, it still applies. A little space please . . . I, like everyone else, need to continue making the little spaces I need to build and apply resilience in the face of a span of time that just seems to keep serving up new difficulties. The process of interviewing, hiring, planning and downward spiral of the above-referenced job, in my short retrospect period of about 12 hours at this point, I feel also really caught me off-guard. 

I have to show my self enough respect to know that I did the absolute best I could in balancing understanding of where they were coming from and with advocating for where I am coming from. This feels so true for so many things right now.

This morning, with all of this processing still . . . well, in process, I have to say that I do not yet feel ready to hop back in on innovating when it comes to what my Fall and Winter could look like career-wise. The last several days have oscillated between jam-packed to borderline traumatic (when I consider several other things that happened in relationship to me personally and in the world at large). While my way of dealing has often tended to be 'reflect a little and move into action as quickly as possible,' I'm recognizing that strategy isn't gonna work this time. I really like the practice of grind up my coffee from beans each morning and waiting for it to brew. I enjoy the reliability of that grinding process being the second thing I do each morning. I enjoy smelling the coffee as it drips into the pot. I enjoy having to wait a little for the pay-off. As I hear (almost all too) often in the arts, 'it's not just about the product, it's also about the process.' 

I desire to apply the same kind of trusted patience I have in brewing my coffee in the morning to working through the kinds of life events I detailed above. I need a little space (please) to acknowledge, process, release, heal from and transcend the trauma that has happened before I can mind-play and body-storm my way to leaning into proven and creating new possibilities. For conjuring up a sense of direction regarding how my clouds might shift, and how I might partner with them to breathe in deeply and push that breath out toward them to help choose the way the float.

Clouded judgement.

Emblematic

 Emblematic.

Growth around. Despite? Within?

The wine bottle within got left there, in this patch of my back yard, on New Year's Eve 2019. Really, by the time we were drinking that bottle, it was New Year's Day 2020. There has been so much this year has brought that I never could have imagined that night/ morning.

Coincidentally, last night, Kris and I drank the same kind of wine with two of the same friends with which we drank the bottle in the photo, though this time it was in their backyard, not ours. Things that have changed: our ability to hug one another and go into one another's houses. Things that have not changed: our friendship. What we are discussing may be 'different,' but when is it ever 'the same'? In this light, things are indeed changing all the time. Lack of change can mean stasis.

Much of the context in which the weeds have grown around this bottle is not the kind of context I would have wished for this year. I suppose I'm using the word 'wish' here because that is indeed what I mean: 'wishing' perhaps pertaining to that you know you do not have direct control over, and 'planning' for that you do. Recognizing there is a wide spectrum between these poles opens the possibilities of how they overlap as well.

I've kept thinking back to that night in the last couple weeks: New Year's Eve 2019/ New Year's Day 2020. Some of it is humorous, as I've been patting myself on the back for conning my closest of the close into a bonfire in the backyard the last two December 31sts: really, I've just been preparing them for the fact that if they wanna hang out that night this year, it'll have to be in the backyard, right?! Some of it is more serious. For as long as I can remember, I have been one to appreciate how the annualness of things like New Year's, my birthday and the State Fair/ back to school time can serve as set-points at which to reflect and prepare. Kris tends to refute the idea that New Year's in particular is some sort of 'reset,' as this mindset can often be more dangerous for folks than helpful. I appreciate this perspective, but still lean toward finding benefit in looking upon these dates and events as useful points through the year at which to ponder what's been going well and what could use a boost - at least where junctures of direct impact are concerned.

I find myself reflecting on this bottle in the weeds not at an exact set-point (though State Fair and back to school, however reimagined, are on their way). Instead, it's an emblematic object to which I keep finding my way back. It's image gives me a strange sense of hope: there was a New Year's last year, and if I am fortunate enough to keep on living - an idea that always rings true and that I am working to not take for granted - there will be another one. And one after that . . .

Other Things to Think About

Is optimism a well that runs dry? I suppose a well metaphor implies that there will always be more ground water and rains to fill it up when it's become/ has been emptied.

Been wondering about my well. Often quite full, it's feeling pretty dry right now. A couple days of quite down feelings in relative succession are not common for me, so it makes me ask questions.

It's hard to be pouring time into things meant to be shared that you are not quite sure will be witnessed as they should be.

As they should be? Like, in a theater full of people sitting next to one another? 'As they should be' is rightfully being debated right now in the name of innovation, and in ways, I'm totally here for it, while in ways I'm pressed on why so much effort should be poured in if no one is going to witness, even in a modified way.

Not interested in remaining sour for any longer than I need to, I'm investing in the idea that folks have a lot of other things to think about, particularly at the juncture of time in which the digital show I'm producing will be happening. This is always true about this show at this time of the year, but particularly true in a year where so much is still up in the air regarding what school will look like in less than a month.

Fixating on the lack of attention folks may be able to give to the offerings I'm trying to create rather than considering the places their attention is needing to go right now feels short-sited and, frankly, selfish.

I know this, I just can't help but feel my feelings in order to work through them as best as I can. As I know I've written numerous times during this period, I myself have not biewed many live-streamed and pre-recorded shows shared digitally, something I've had to investigate. I'm realizing that watching such offerings, especially when they are streams of old shows that happened on big theater stages with people watching live, makes me sad. In the event of live-action livestreamed shows, perhaps it's missing that energy of being in the space with other people watching it all happen from within our bodies.

I want to be a person supporting these offerings, but also am generally not a fan of forcing myself to do something that I'm really not gravitating toward.

I have been peeking at the DanceMN newsletter to get a sense of who is doing what, and am realizing that perhaps less companies than I thought are really trying to 'do shows.’ The folks I am able to get a sense of all seem to be doing pretty different things. There is a piece of me that thinks that Fall will be a better time to try and capture people's attention because there will be less to do outside, but another part of me thinks the 'hunker down' sensibility' will cause people to be less engaged in such things. I suppose all I can do is what works for me and what I have the resources for - and this is not a 'now' thing, this is an 'all the time' thing.

Sometimes, it can just be hard to figure out 'what works.'

As I maintain this ongoing process for myself, I think it'll be important for me to remember that I too have 'other things to think about.' We all do.

Grey Screen

I have no photos from New Years Eve 2019-2020.

In a way, I think that's nice, as it means I was likely quite invested in what was going on - friends, glitz, music, champagne.

In another way, I think that's sad, as it means that I have no images of the ignorant joy I was experiencing pre-2020. They say it's bliss.

That said, is the word 'ignorant' quite right for where I was? It's got a bit of a sharp connotation for someone who couldn't have seen this coming. I DO have some choice words for those who COULD see it coming and didn't do much . . .

I really just want documentation of those moments because they'd serve as a beautiful visual reminder of the fact that we never really know completely what is coming. We can consider our options, we can play plans according, and we can do our best to see them to fruition, but there are always so many factors in life we cannot control.

What would things look like if we could control everything? I venture to guess they'd be a lot more bland, as adversity, boredom and other such ill feelings are two among many that can bring out brilliance we would not have found before.

I do not say this to suggest I've 'found my brilliance' during this time, or to use 'brilliance' as the standard of what I should be achieving in these moments. Rather, it's one end of a scale that produces a lot of things that might not have happened had I been left to 'planning.' Some bad? Absolutely. Some good? For sure.

I know this is not how it is for everyone. My privileges afford me a lot.

So, this grey screen. Is it absence or possibility? If there is anything I am learning during this time, it's that very little seems to be an 'either or' situation.

Absence AND possibility.

Is It Not Happening Because No One is Watching?

I post, therefore I am.

Is it not happening because no one can see?

If a tree falls in the woods . . .

I like sharing, I want to share. I do not want 'sharing' to be the singular source of what makes me accountable.

Yes, I feel like I don't really have co-workers right now, so 'sharing' helps me feel connected to my peeps.

That said, there are many parts of what I do in which I am very alone, sitting behind my computer. This is not new.

What is new is the lack of alternation between that and deeply intimate time with others, in which we are sharing sweat, rolling around on the same floor, picking one another up (physically and metaphorically, mind you).

Mind you(rself): You are far from alone in this.

Mind you(rself): We are rarely completely alone in anything, that truth can just be easy to forget.

What perspective are you seeing from? You have several, so try them all on with ease.

Desensitize/d(?)

I've found myself wondering if I am becoming desensitized to the horrors the pandemic is creating.

Early on, the images and videos that were coming out of hospitals made me cry, kept me up at night, made it hard to sleep, and made the sleep poor when it did come. Now, I'm hearing updates daily about areas in the country in which the crisis situation of refrigerator trucks to hold the bodies is playing out either all over again, or for the first time.

Typing "refrigerator trucks to hold the bodies" put a lump in my throat, but didn't make my cry.

I'm not suggesting that I should be crying and losing sleep every day, because the value in those reactions feels to me as though it diminishes the more they happen. The drying up of these wells seems to go two major ways - indifference and action. This also speaks to me as related to the idea that White tears can only go so far in efforts toward racial justice: at a certain point, those tears need to be turned into tangible action.

That said, there is a certain stuck-ness to this idea, as far as the pandemic is concerned. With so much more to know still, action of any kind can feel under-thought out or wrong, or turn out to be wrong after it is tried. While as a truism, chance of failure and/ or set-back cannot be what keeps one from trying, this idea is particularly sensitive in this kind of situation, as it doesn't mean not winning the long-jump trophy, it can mean acute sickness with potential long-term complications we don't understand yet, and death.

I muse about all this with myself and anyone who might end up reading because I wish to hold myself accountable for striking a balance - as I think could apply to anything in life I ponder. I wish to balance awareness with effort. Compassion with self care. Thought with action. 

I think at this moment, I just feel that perhaps I could use to see a few more images and videos from hospitals in the middle of the fire.

Admittance

I LIKE that I don't have to pack all three of my meals several times a week.

I LIKE that I don't have to ping-pong between five different places in one day, multiple times a week.

I LIKE working from home with Kris around, and seeing him so much more. 

I LIKE that we can go on walks together at lunch time too, not just in the evening sometimes.

I LIKE that the frequency with which we can make an evening walk happen is higher.

I LIKE that we bought kayaks, break up going on walks sometimes by choosing to do that instead.

I LIKE that our choice of activities is MUCH simpler.

I LIKE that I am cooking up most of our food from home.

I LIKE that the above causes me to sometimes cook 3-4 times a day.

I LIKE that limitation on activities we feel are safe has caused us to spend more time outdoors at our parents homes, catching up with them.

I LIKE that so much of what makes up life feels simpler for us, for the moment.

There are a lot of things I DON'T LIKE about this moment in time, but that feels like a given. Admitting how many things I DO like about it - many of which I recognize are fueled by not only careful planning but also privilege - almost feels wrong. They feel like secrets I've been holding close to my chest. I'm not sure which entity I've wanted to admit this to less: others or myself.

That said, there is a certain power in being able to do so. It helps be acknowledge that many of my feelings are conflicting right now. Admittance doesn't SOLVE for X, but it does help me feel a little more peaceful about X's existence. It helps me sit with X.

Not Quite Sure Which

But this image caught my attention:

A beacon in a sea of same?

A change to pattern? 

I cannot tell if it is an interruption or a welcomed shift from norm. Not quite sure which.

With something as seemingly trivial as an image like this, it doesn't seem as urgent to determine it's role. With something as daunting and seemingly impossible as figuring out my/ the current world and why it's serving up what it is, it seems far more important to to determine, and far more elusive.

There is sitting and listening.

There is sitting and being distracted. 

Which am I doing at any given time? A little bit of both?

My last post here described my developing understanding of 'fatigue.' I'm realizing perhaps 'fatigue of focus' is also it's own kind.

As much as I wish the opposite, I cannot focus into wringing meaning out of everything all the time. Without pausing to let my hands rest, that wringing cannot be maintained.

So I stare up at the clouds. I cook meals. And then I begin again in wringing meaning out of the seemingly trivial to the seemingly impossible.

Consciousness.

Fatigue

Fatigue.

I've historically thought of this as sheerly physical.

I feel like in the past ten years or so, public consciousness about the concepts of emotional, mental and other kinds of fatigue has grown, along with the idea of needing to take care of yourself in other to best help take care of others.

Perhaps consciousness of these ideas has not exponentially grown, and these are just among the many ideas I've been better able to process as an adult. I still stand by the idea that consciousness about different types of fatigue, and how to come back better from it, has grown.

Which leads me to this: is there fatigue of memory?

This morning, I noticed, again, my tendency to associate hypnotic summer smells with my younger years, growing up at my parent's home. In a way, these associations create beautiful nostalgia for me. In other ways, they make me wonder if my memory is fatigued (or potentially lazy?) enough to just keep directing the taking in of these smells toward generalized times in my life. Memory fatigue?

Like many things, it seems to me there is a fine line between this 'memory fatigue' and nostalgia, between nostalgia and 'wishing things were like they used to be.'

I have no desire to be younger of live somewhere else, or, really, for any major components of my life to be different. I love my current life. That said, nostalgia is powerful.

And can I be blamed for feeling a generalized sense of 'wishing things were like they used to be?' The world is pretty fucked right now, and we and she are, on the whole, doing our best to grapple with the hand that has been dealt so that in the future, it doesn't feel like we are gambling, but painting with purpose.

Wishing things were like they used to be . . . clearly, not everything should remain as it was. This seems a pervasive thought, at least in my own circles and in what I take in to process what is happening. 

How do we balance the good feelings nostalgia can offer with a drive to let these hypnotic smells continue to gather positive associations? Beyond that, and perhaps more importantly, how do we recognize the potential for nostalgia to cause feelings of 'wishing things were the way/s they used to be,' and balance that with pushes to let new ways of being - that are better for ALL of us - bust up from the cracks in our psyches that seismic societal and personal shifts have caused?

I suppose my 'how' is in the right now. My own work of 'build the capacity to notice.' For me, this comes in the form of my 20-60 minute walk each morning, in which I flex my 'noticing,' or perhaps 'consciousness' muscles.

This morning, this practice allowed me this train of thought.

I've come to better-notice my own grappling with the nostalgia-fatigue-nowness-change spiral. From here, I'm going to try to use it to work toward nostalgia as positive reminders of the past, poke toward associating newness, recognition of potential fatigue, and that as reminder to examine where that fatigue lies.

I commit to positioning my own fatigue not as an enemy to overcome, but as a friend issuing reminders to keep wearing my mask, to keep distancing, to keep making choices with which I feel comfortable in the midst of a global pandemic, and to remember that my choices are not and will not be everyone elses.

I commit to positioning my own fatigue not as an enemy to overcome, but as a friend issuing reminders that it's ok to be uncomfortable amidst developing anti-racist perspectives and efforts, it's ok to be 'wrong' as long as I continue to seek 'rights,' it's ok for emotions to become unbalanced, as long as they are allowed time and space to rebalance before losing stability again (and again). It's not just ok, it's important. It's necessary for wide-ranging change that will move us toward new ways of being that can work for everyone. 

Fatigue, you are my friend.

Intersection Dissection

Intersection dissection low-grade stress.

Intertwining.

Imagining the daily, high-grade stress of those whose walks in life are different than mine.

Grounding to the present, hopping forward to the future, trying to ground in the present again, with that not even working to disrupt

intersection dissection low-grade stress.

I heard 'stress' defined on a podcast the other day as something like 'having issues to deal with but not the resources to deal with them.' That really stuck with me. Regardless of WHY one does not have the resources, in the moment when the issue hits, they simply don't have them. Sort of like, regardless of WHY someone is feeling as they are, they are feeling that way. Should resource attainment be worked on? Yes. Should understanding and regulating (not sure that's the right word) one's feelings be worked on? Yes. In the mean time, do the lack of resources and feelings still exist? YES.

Intersection dissection low-grade stress.

I've often found myself explaining to friends, when I find myself within stress, that part of why it is difficult for me is that I'm fortunate enough to not feel it all that often, so when it does happen, it's hard for me. A couple things here - I've said fortunate, because shifting my feelings to manifest in ways other than stress is something I've been working on for a long time. That said, I'm realizing how important it is for this to be another place where my understanding of privilege intersects. Generally, my stress has come from instances of over-scheduling and trying, within that, to deliver. These days, much of my stress is coming from uncertainty and discomfort in all the many forms that I'm discovering a pandemic and civil unrest can create.

Uncertainty and discomfort. Feelings that create what can feel like out-size stress for me because I've had the privilege of not being faced with either a whole lot on a daily basis until now. 

Shifting my understanding of my own experience of stress to note that when it happens, it's often hard for me to deal with because I am fortunate and privileged to not have to feel it all that often.

Trying to discern how to 'sit with the stress,' as it were, to acknowledge it, dissect why it is here, and ask it what it can do for me, and in turn, others. I'm trying to ask it to help keep me motivated to ask WHY I get to feel less stress than a lot of folks on this planet, and HOW I can help change that.

None the less, it feels.

The World Turned Loop-D-Loop

I've been wanting to write. Not being able to write. Glued to the news. Up late into the night watching over the safety of my home and neighborhood.

It feels so clique to say that this past two weeks has given so many people a taste of what it might be like to be less privileged in our world. That said, just like every joke is rooted in some conception of truth . . .

I've been both really annoyed by AND resonating with the memes people are sharing about how "Maybe 2020 is the year we've actually been waiting for . . ." Waiting for thousands of people to die from a novel virus? Waiting for even more people to be murdered by police? It seems it must be implied that those things are horrible to have to move through in order to get to "the other side," but wrapping it all up into a neat little package of a pale-pink, built-for-Instagram image feels off-base to me.

Perhaps it's not the content so much as the form. The package. Again, another reason why I am committed to hashing out my feels in long-form writing, even if no one reads. That's really not what this, at its heart, is for me.

back to "the other side." I often feel troubled by the use of the words "side" and "sides." It implies there are only two. Yes, I suppose various shapes have various sides, but the context in which the word "sides" has been used in public discourse, at least in the last ten years, in my (limited, because everyone's is) experience, it has come to mean two. This side, or the other one. This context of this word is particularly troubling to me when thinking of "getting to the other side" of "all this." It implies that we are on one side, and that there is one other place to go.

There is not ONE other place to go from here, just like there is not ONE right way to engage with the moment in an ongoing and sustained/able way. There may be wrong ways, but there is no ONE right way. This has become important for me to remember.

If I get hung up trying to figure out 'THE right way' to handle something, action comes swiftly and stays for far too long. The idea of being willing to make mistakes is a powerful one. This willingness is even more powerful when surrounded by people who you trust and respect, and who trust and respect you.

Loop-D-Loop. I was going to write "The World Turned Upside Down" for the title, but Lin-Manuel Miranda beat me to that one (and probably a lot of other people before him - there is nothing new under the sun). Loop-D-Loop. Reminds me of some tune from probably the 50s . . . Palisades Park! It was BreAnn's favorite. The phrase, and the context I've now uncovered for myself, makes this way of summating feel candy-coated. Simple.

It's just where my brain went.

Kris often says that humans want to make things as simple as they possibility can. Sometimes this is beneficial, like in the case of creating areas of focus for life and curating your possessions, if you are so privileged to be able to have the energy to do either or both. Other times, it can be really dangerous, like in the case of engaging with humanitarian issues. I almost wrote 'social' or 'political' issues. That said, I'm coming to understand things like systemic racism and the need for anti-racist action as humanitarian.

Back to 'simple.' The desire for something to be simple seems to often cause people to 'locate their SIDE of the issue and stay there.' There's a couple things about this that are problematic. First of all, it's that SIDES thing again. Like there are only two. This way of thinking can make it really hard to truly consider and sit with not only the fact that there are a multitude of perspectives on any one topic, but also hard to then really consider them. Also problematic: the idea of 'staying there.'

I'm trying the best I can not to pick a lane and stay there, but to find the biggest highway I can and safely move between lanes so I can see what the view looks like from each.

This 'lanes' thing is also feeling like a poor analogy for what I'm trying to express.

Perhaps apologies are not needed. Perhaps it's enough to suggest that the more perspectives you can consider in safe and healthful ways, the better off you are. This concept has really helped me to embrace something Kris and I talk about a lot: that it's possible to simultaneously believe in the efficacy of more than one thing about a topic. I can believe in the need for organized public safety forces (which may still be reformed policing - I'm still and always will be learning about this, and really, everything) while believing that our safety forces as they stand are very problematic in many ways. This is just one (currently really relevant) example.

Loop-D-Loop. A super-simple way to describe the current complexity of the state of our world.

'Normal' as we knew it isn't something we can, or should want, to go back to. 'Normal' wasn't allowing everyone to thrive.

I want to 'get back' to a lot of things in the physical and mental proximities in which I experienced them 'before.' That said, I don't think there is a 'back to.' I think there is a 'forward to.' A 'forward to,' implying there are many iterations of this 'place' that would work. One thing I do know, whichever 'forward to' I arrive in, I know I can only get there if my own and the proximities of many others, in relationship to many things, shift.

Shift like this:

Equality < Equity < Justice

We are witnessing expedited shifts in so many causes that need to level out to being just, causes that I think really boil down to the age-old elements of art:

form and content

.

.

.

place and inhabitants

I recognize that I'm simplifying here, and could have named so many specific causes that are in need. I think what I'm doing is simply finding my own simplified board from which to spring to action.

Activism (a state of action)

.

.

.

Engaging elected officials

Following voices of leadership

Reading/ Listening/ Watching

Supporting businesses, organizations, individuals - monetarily and with presence

Getting trained

Making art(work)

All of my thought processes in the last week have led me back to what I can and need to do to help causes of place and inhabitants level out toward just. Things I've been doing:

eating 70% vegan, 95% vegetarian

making artwork conscious of, proclaiming and celebrating it's history/ies

donating to causes of place and inhabitants, specifically disaster and refugee relief, environmental and social justice and arts

consuming consciously, from food to clothing to media to art to entertainment

This post has really spiraled, which is honestly how most of my thought processes have been working  in the past two weeks, and really, longer.

I have to get this thing wrapped up. So I'll say that it helped me organize thoughts and try to build new systems for myself that can radiate out into shifts toward justice for place and inhabitance.

 Onward.

C19: Missing May

It's still got nearly a week left in it, yet I'm starting to miss it already.

Got thinking on this morning's walk about how I won't make it to my favorite beach yet AGAIN this summer. That's two summers in a row. To make myself feel better about it at the end of last summer, I told myself "it'll be there next year." Turns out that it's indeed there, but a place I won't be going. It's this beach in Hudson, Wisconsin that's at the end of a really long pier, creating a little island of sorts in the midst of a river channel. It's magical. I was just about to look up what it's called and refrained - that's not important. It's more fun to have to describe it anyway.

I'm not NOT going there because it won't ever be open - I think it will. I'm not going there because I think it likely the behavior of other visitors will just keep my visit from being safe, if not just being fun. It was frustrating enough to walk around Cleary Lake Park yesterday afternoon, with pretty much everyone else on the path basically physically refusing to shift over to maintain distance as we passed one another. Kris and I joked (and jokes are often funny because they are often in part true) that another great reason to stay instead/ away from others is to avoid the sheer frustration invoked by other people unwilling to slightly change their personal patterns out of courtesy for others. My apologies to the folks we passed on the trail yesterday whose lack of shift was motivated by ignorance, not unkindness. Turns out, I felt unsafe in those moments regardless of the motivation.

Back to this beach. To me, that adventure is just not worth it this summer. It's disappointing to me, because I've built this beach up to be a mythical place of wonder. And yes, to me it is, but creating that build-up is part of it. In a way that's fun, but in a way, it's also damaging. It creates this feeling of missing out, kind of like how a person with some unhealthy relationships with food might feel they are missing out by making chocolate out to be this mythical, magical food that can only be enjoyed ever so often. Really, that beach is only 35-40 minutes away, yet I only ever make it out there once a summer, if that. Putting that into writing really makes me question my priorities. Or, I guess, if getting out there really ever has been that much of a priority.

I've come to sort of feel the same way about walks. Kris and I love going on walks together, and we've been going for at least an hour pretty much once a day (give or take) during this pandemic. It's gotten me wondering WHY it took a global pandemic for us to get out and do, together and with more frequency, something healthy that we really enjoy.

Related were my thoughts, from my walk this morning, about how I've been worried that I'm not really missing going to dance class and shows. Turns out the key word here is going, not class or shows. When I really think about it, I really DO miss class. I miss dancing WITH other people, flying through space, a high level of cardio, the finite socializing after. I really DO miss shows. I miss they way they make me feel in my gut - alive and in the moment, inspired. I miss the finite socializing after (key word - finite!). What I don't miss - GOING. The hustle to get out the door. Finding parking. The commute time (however short). Rushing to change out of sweaty clothes to get to the next thing, shoveling one of the three meals I made to bring for the day into my mouth as I do it so I won't be late. I DON'T miss any of that.

I would say that I should just figure out how to not let my days get that way, but the reality is that so many artists have to hustle that way to make ends meet. In recent years, I have at least been able to recognize that not ALL my days are that way: they come in waves, along with days like many I'm staring down the pipeline at in thinking about this summer (and have already experienced) - quiet and relatively unscheduled, with less pressing shit at hand.

It's kind of a relief to think about the above a little more deeply and realize that it's not the actual dance-related stuff that I don't miss. I've kind of been worried. Related: worry about experiencing differently what I consider to be key elements of my personality. Read: extrovertedness. I've long considered myself an extrovert, someone who loved being around others and is energized by it. That said, as I believe I've written on here before, I've been doing surprisingly ok. I suppose we have been seeing family and close friends a bit, so that helps.

Even before all this, I'd been noticed that sometimes, after shows, I'd want to go home more than I'd want to go out for drink with folks. I'd still go out, but not stay as long as some others. I suppose some of this has less to do with whether or not I want to be around people, and more to do with plain old getting tired, not wanting to be out late. Those things have long been defining elements of my personality too :)

I suppose I did realize in grad school that I'm often actually quite content alone, thinking, writing, making. I'm so content right now, sitting at my laptop in my backyard, observing the work I've done on it in the last couple weeks, listening to the shit-ton of birds in our bushes chirp and smelling May as I write this. Even during the day at home here with Kris, I am RARELY tempted to go talk to him, not for human connection OR procrastination. I have to keep remembering, like that I do indeed have allergies, that I do indeed not only enjoy but also need alone time. It helps me cultivate my creativity.

Perhaps why I'm surprisingly ok is because I've often been feeling as though my creative exploration is lacking some of the limits it normally has. Ok, well, one: time. It has NEW limits - lack of people to explore with, lack of space, lack of ability to perform live whatever is created. That said, the lifting of one conventional limit and the development of these new ones has challenged my creativity in ways that have often felt rewarding.

Surprisingly ok. That feels like it applies pretty well to the day-to-day stuff. To the annual stuff like the State Fair and the festivals we like to attend: not so much. This morning, it occurred to me how related truisms are really quite conflicting: "It'll always be there next year" v.s. "You never really know what you are missing until it's gone." These both feel true, right now and always, but "it'll always be there next year" stings a bit. Usually, my ending up thinking this serves the purpose of comforting me when I miss something. FOMO is a stupid, modern problem that I'd like to not even consider a problem, so yes, this truism is often helpful to me.

That said, "You never really know what you are missing until it's gone" has also been a good motivator for me in the past to sieze the day. Carpe diem.

Perhaps the real issue here is not the ideas at the hearts of these truisms, but more their absolutism. "Always." "Never." Those words are the real problem. How about "It'll be there next time" and "It's hard to know what you are missing until you lose access to it"? Absolutism is the real issue at hand, I think, with a lot of things. It's what keeps people from the "Yes, and" sort of thinking Kris and I have been reflecting on as pretty important for walking through the world in a soft and open way. Put another way, it's cultivating the ability to believe that two views that could potentially be seen as conflicting can actually co-exist in ones mind. For example and in honor of Memorial Day, which was yesterday, I can simultaneously support and be grateful for our service folks while also believing that violent, armed conflict shouldn't have to be the way we solve world issues.

So yeah, I'm trying to interrogate the ways in which I'm already missing May. I'm nostalgic for it, a month I've realized is a sort of magical in-between for me: between work and play. Between Spring and Summer. A moment of pause. I'm missing it, and it's STILL HERE. Rather than building it up like a restrictive eater builds up chocolate, I'm trying to breathe it in deeply while it's here.