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.