Summertime Blues

 Life is short.

Carpe diem

YOLO (I know no one says this anymore)

What does this mean on a practical basis? 

It will surprise no one that the topic of this post is my lack of a love life and the crush I do have on someone.

I'm not quite sure that crush is even the right term. I truly have feelings for this person and I want him to be happy and well. I want him to thrive no matter what his feelings for me might be.

But, life is short.

Does this mean you share your feelings with someone, even if you're confident he (in this case) doesn't feel anything remotely close to that for you?

I'm not going to publicly list the pros and cons. As remote as it is, someone might see this and be able to identify him, but I think about this situation often. If he learns of my feelings, I want that to come from me.

Back to the idea of carpe diem and it's practical application in day-to-day life. I've joined a dating app. Again. There are an overwhelming number of men in their 20s and early 30s and very few 40 or over. Almost none have caught my eye. Is that because I have feelings for someone and that clouds my judgment? Perhaps.

A broader question is should I just look to hang out and have fun this summer and beyond? Maybe take a few much younger men up on their online flirtation. What could it hurt if everyone understands it's all for fun?

I turn 55 in a month. Is it time to just give up on the idea of a real relationship? Perhaps those days are in my past and now unreasonable. I really don't want to think that, but would things be better if I temper my expectations or is that lowering my standards?

Too many questions. I know that the answer is somewhere deep inside of me. Perhaps my inaction is my answer - just allowing the status quo to continue. Inaction is a decision and has consequences.

I've left a message for a therapist. Maybe that will help.

Unrequited

 There has been a theme to my poems of late.

A couple of weeks ago,  I challenged my students to write a poem that started with the words "Truth is I." They did a nice job. This is what I wrote. If you read my blog regularly, you can probably guess what this is about.

Truth is I want

Truth is I think

Truth is I don't know what to say.

My tongue fumbles over the words

my heart wants to say.

    Censors them.

    Covers up the truth.

Truth is I am afraid of the words.

Speaking them requires a softness

that reveals a vulnerability.

    Fear of loneliness.

    Fragile heart.

Truth is I will eventually speak.

The words will tumble out

awkwardly, clumsily.

    Hold my breath.

    Await your response.

More Love

There's so much in the bell hooks' book I want to discuss. I kind of feel a little overwhelmed by all of the material. Nonetheless, let's try a post today. My last one was not one of the best I've ever written, so I hope I redeem myself a bit here.

The overwhelming aspect of trying to write about hooks' ideas is to pick which part to discuss that feels most relevant to me without going on and on about my greatest self-pity hits. How often can I bemoan the loneliness that fills most of my days or how I think that I'm an awful mom or the fear I'm currently feeling about this crush I have. I'll try to avoid those, but as I currently do not have a therapist, I make no promises.

Let's examine what it means to live by a "love ethic." The chapter starts off with "Awakening to love can happen only as we let go of our obsession with power and domination." I have mentioned before that I am union president for my school district. We are currently in negotiations. Just yesterday, a trusted adviser told me that negotiations shouldn't be about power, but a conversation about solving problems. Once power becomes the language and goal of negotiations, both sides have lost. I really needed to hear those words as I had been a little down after the last negotiation session. Negotiations could be done with a love ethic and that's a goal I'm going to set for myself.

hooks writes "A love ethic presupposes that everyone has the right to be free, to live fully and well. To bring a love ethic to every dimension of our lives, our society would need to embrace change." I think this is why I became a teacher. I had a very influential teacher in my life who saw the potential in me and expressed her belief in me. That's love. That's what I hope to do for my students, help them see their own worth and live in a manner that honors their worth. 

I also think this is why I wanted to be union president. In the chapter "Community: Loving Communion," hooks says "When we see love as the will to nurture one's own or another's spiritual growth, revealed through acts of care, respect, knowing, and assuming responsibility, the foundation of all love in our life is the same. There is no special love exclusively for romantic partners. Genuine love is the foundation of our engagement with ourselves, with family, with friends, with partners, with everyone we choose to love." My aspiration for the local is that it becomes a cherished member of the community where we teach. That works to deepen our relationship with students and families and it gets us allies. Teachers have been vilified for the last 40 years, stronger relationships in the community can only help to straighten out the lies that have been oft-repeated. That can only help to further love in our world, because love can't live in the fog of lies and disinformation.

I think I'll stop here for today. There is one more section I want to address, but I'll save that for another day.

That book

 I finished reading the bell hooks' book (all about love: New Visions). I placed 46 sticky notes in the book. That's a lot of material to cover, but it's Spring Break (and snowing outside) and I've got time.

I'm going to start with the definition of love that hooks uses. She uses the the definition of that is in M. Scott Peck's The Road Less Traveled which is "the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth." I find this expansive definition of love to be really useful. It covers both romantic and platonic love. I also find it a little sad, as I'm not sure I've ever been loved in this manner. I know that I may be personalizing the issue, but what is life if love is lacking? I'm also left with the question - have I loved anyone in this manner? 

As I look back on my life, I can clearly see that none of my romantic relationships fit this. Neither I nor any of my romantic partners were looking out for each other's spiritual growth. I feel fairly certain that most of my friendships have not nourished anyone's spiritual growth. Perhaps this is why I've felt so lonely most of my life.

My biggest concern, however, is that I haven't actually parented from a true love point of view. I'm trying very mindfully to adjust my behavior when I interact with my soon-to-be 18 year old son. Is it too late?

This has been on my mind since I first read it in December. I suspect it will stay there as I try to navigate any and all relationships in my life.

All About Love - Preface and Introduction

I knew that I would dive back into All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks the second I finished reading it the first time. During my first reading, I didn't write in the book or put any sticky notes on any pages, which is unusual. When I read nonfiction, I almost always write all over the book. I didn't do that because I knew that what I was reading was important and I wanted the ideas to wash over me without me over analyzing first. I wanted to emotionally react first. I touch on my first reading in this post from the beginning of the year.

If no one minds, I'm going to work out my thoughts to the book in bits and pieces here. It would be great if you share your thoughts with me, especially if you've read the book. Even if you haven't, I'd like to hear from you. Dialogue is far more interesting than monologue.

I think I'm going to proceed by highlighting some of the parts that spoke to me for whatever reason. Maybe a sentence. Maybe a passage. Maybe a question that arose while reading. 

The last sentence in the Preface is, "When we love we can let our heart speaks." What immediately came to mind was the idea of fear. What if fear of opening up, especially in a new situation, keeps us from allowing our hearts to speak? I have mentioned before that I'm quite smitten with someone who is younger than me, but I'm terrified to say anything for fear of looking like a foolish old woman. Does this mean that love is not present? I don't know. hooks' sentence feels true to me. Love is liberating. Fear is not.

I underlined several passages in the Introduction and placed several sticky notes next to other passages. I'm not sure where to start. I guess let's start here: "all the great movements for social justice have strongly emphasized a love ethic." I am, as president of a small union, trying to approach my duties as with a love ethic. Love for the members, love for my students, love for the profession of teaching. This is a different point of view than I had 10 years ago when I was not so healthy. 

Next is the notion that a woman over 40 who speaks of love is perceived as desperate. This ties directly to the fear I talked about in relation to that younger man. A few pages later, hooks wrote that many people have learned that speaking about love "with any emotional intensity means we will be perceived as weak." In the margins I wrote that I burst into tears while reading this. How sad is it that people might view someone else as weak if they speak about love. But, then again, I'm afraid of being seen as desperate and foolish.

The final part of the Introduction that captured my attention is what she describes as "a callous cynicism that frowns upon any suggestion that love is as important as work, as crucial to our survival as a nation as the drive to succeed. Awesomely, our nation, like no other in the world, is a culture driven by the quest to love ... even as it offers so little opportunity for us to understand love's meaning or to know how to realize love in word and deed." This will make more sense when we get to the definition of love that hooks uses throughout the book -which she reveals in Chapter 1. That will be my next entry.

See you in a few days, unless you leave a comment, which would be great.

Diving Back In

 I am 54 years old. I've been separated for more than a decade now. 

Since 2014, I have endured three major health crises, two substantial bouts of unemployment, and a pandemic. Due to those health issues, I'm overweight, though I can't tell you a number because scales actually depress me and destroy my motivation. I'm also lonely and would like to have someone to cuddle in next to at night.

The age thing, the weight thing, and the loneliness thing intersect. They always do. 

I have a crush on someone. We're friends and I've been developing feelings for him. I'm afraid to act on those feelings because he's considerably younger than me and I just can't imagine that someone that young and handsome would want to hang out with someone as old as me. Or as round as me.

Here is where weight intersects with the loneliness. About a month ago, I signed up for Weight Watchers. The multiple health crises led me to put on a fair amount of weight. Absolutely nothing in my closet fit me. I had to buy new clothes and often chose frumpy, shapeless outfits to hide my body. I felt enormous amounts of shame. Logically, I knew that my health problems had caused the weight gain. Weight Watchers is useful, but I find it unsustainable. For example, I enjoy making homemade soup, but I haven't sorted out a way to track the points on that. I've fallen back to eating salads for dinner most days. That is also not sustainable. One of my health issues is fairly severe anemia for which I gave up being a vegetarian. Meat has high point values. But, I want to date and everyone has consumed the same messages about the ideal shape of a woman's body. So, salads it is.

I try to fight off those messages because I know they're trash. I signed up on a dating app, hoping to fight off the loneliness. It's unnerving. What if I meet someone in good shape. I'm kind of spooked by the prospect that someone will see me without clothing. Again, logically, I know the garbage behind that kind of thinking, so I try to fight off those thoughts. I feel, however, that my experience isn't unique. I imagine many women feel this way. Probably men, too. 

I'm aware of the dichotomy between the messaging and logic. What about those who aren't aware of the influences of the perfect body images that are out there? We know that social media can have a negative impact on how we feel about our bodies. We need to help each other be more mindful of the messages that impact our behavior and attitudes. I'll start with myself. It might take a while, but it will be worth the effort.

In the meantime, what should I do about that crush?

Snow Days

 I'm very pro-snow day. I've never hidden that fact from anyone, not even my students. On Tuesday, the day before a soon-to-be-announced snow day, I told my students that snow days were like a ten dollar bill you find in your pocket before you throw your jeans in the was. It's a gift, a true delight. 

I get really annoyed when I see adults complaining about snow days. I know that I should not take comments from social media seriously, but it does push this narrative that we're coddling kids and that teachers are lazy. I try not to take it personally, but I truly don't get that mindset.

Just as Covid hit, a quarter of US workers did not have access to paid sick days. Story after story tells us that Americans don't take sick days. The US has zero mandatory vacation days and only 10 federal holidays. Do we really think more work is the answer? Why are we so tied to work?

Pre-pandemic, the happiness score for the US had been very low for the "shining city on a hill." For 2020, it came in at 14, still far short of its mythology and propaganda.

I think an important question is, "why are we so miserable?" More importantly, why do we think our children should be as miserable as the adults? Until we can sort that out, I don't have much faith that things will get better.

How Am I Doing?

 In general, the question "How are you" is a space filler that isn't intended to elicit an honest answer. To be honest, in the bad old days of my mental health crisis, that question made me feel awful because I knew how sick I was. There are better questions to ask. 

Every once in a rare while, "How are you" hits in the deepest, most sincere way. I'm president of my local teachers' union. The district endured a self-inflicted staffing crisis that took a lot of energy to address. We're also getting ready to negotiate a new contract and dealing with the Omicron surge.We've been teaching remotely since the end of the break, which has been smart, but isolating.

One day this week, a member sent me a text that moved me to tears.

It hit me so hard. Look at all of those hats I wear. If I think back to 2014, I 'm shocked that I'm even still alive. I'm stunned and proud that I'm coping as well as I am.

Oddly, very few people have sincerely asked me this question. About three people on my team regularly check in on me and I love them for that.

In fact, I don't know how to answer. I'm busy. Crazy busy. My house is a wreck. I stay home because of Covid. I don't share any of that with folks because my non-union friends don't need to hear about all the crazy in my work life. If I shared all of that, no one else would speak. I don't want to share all of it with my union friends because they're already dealing with a level of the same crazy I am. I just have more of the crazy because it's my job to try and fix some of it. I'm the dumping ground for the crazy.

The question that regularly runs through my mind is should I actively seek out someone to whom I can vent? The president just before me encouraged me to find someone to fill that role. It feels odd. Who wants to hear about all of the bullshit that I deal with on a daily basis? How do I not bring that person down? I guess that there's a skill to venting. I can learn, but I still worry that no one really wants to hear about all of it. I guess those old insecurities like to hang around for a long. Still a work in progress.

Maybe that's how I'll answer that question - I'm still evolving.

A Sense of Awe

 I took a walk by the river today. It was pretty cold, the type of weather I normally avoid. I have a couple of health issues that don't really like the cold, so I usually just watch the winter outdoors from inside, under an electric blanket.

I've let worry make my decisions for quite some time. Bah. That hasn't made me any happier, or healthier.

Today, I let that drop. The sun was so beautiful and inviting that I bundled up and braved the cold. I knew that my back would hurt and my bladder would betray me. I chose not to care. January is usually a long, cloudy month. How could I pass up the beauty that was mere steps away?

I live in a condo along the Detroit River. In the winter, I see the ice floes that come from somewhere further north. From the balcony, they look cool. My walk today took me up close to the river and cool is not a strong enough word. Amazing. Awesome. Those kind of work. Why had I never bothered to walk out there and see them before?

Standing on the walkway along the river, I experienced the strangest sensation. Without moving, I watched the ice floes and I felt like I was on a boat that was moving through the ice. It was a little disorienting, so I started walking. I needed to feel like I was on solid ground. 

I walked, felt the sun on my face, and froze my fingers trying to take a few pictures. Eventually, I returned to the area where I had felt like I was moving. That feeling returned again, but this time I embraced it. I'm sure that there is some scientific reason for that sensation - I don't know it.

I was left with a sense of awe. Experiencing awe is good for us and I know that my mood was vastly improved after my walk. I was also left with the realization that even when we're trying not to change, we can't avoid change. I stood perfectly still and the ice continued to flow past me. The sun was shining on the ice, I'm sure melting parts of it that would then refreeze in an altered form.

Logically and intellectually, I know that change is inevitable and all around us. Today was a reminder, however, that hit me in my soul, not my brain. It was a truly beautiful reminder that I think will move me a little more often from under the blanket back to the outdoors.

Another Poem

 I'm a bit surprised by how much I've been writing lately. Maybe I'm writing so much because my school district is online right now to avoid Omicron. In person, when my students are working independently, I wander around the room and engage them in conversation about the task or subject, asking questions that, I hope, spur on critical thinking. While they're working independently online, I kind of just stare at the screen and remind them to ask if they need help. That leaves me some time on my hands and what better to do with that time than write.

I'm also participating in a 5-day Mindful Writing Challenge. I also wrote with this challenge last year. I'm sitting down everyday, intentionally writing. That makes a huge difference.

I won't share the prompt that I'm given, but I do want to share the poem that I wrote for Day 1. I usually write fiction and only dabble in poetry. Since the pandemic hit, I have found myself writing a lot more poetry. I don't know why. I do know that I've struggled with fiction since the pandemic has started. 

As I said, I want to share the poem I wrote for day 1. This is the first love poem I have ever written in my life. I hope you enjoy it.

To My Friend

The impossible jubilance in your smile

blossoms hope in my heart that

maybe,

just maybe

love is growing in the orchard of our friendship.

I have lived too long in the shade of loneliness;

I can't read the signs,

if, indeed, there are signs.

The warmth of your kindness burns away the shadows,

leaving the tantalizing sweetness of

our conversations

on my tongue.

This is a Hostage Situation

2020. 2021. Now 2022. Three years of Covid. Three years because we are being held hostage by people who won't do the bare minimum to try and reduce the spread of this pestilence.

It started when Donald Trump downplayed the disease and its spread. He admits on tape to downplaying it. Cult members won't care, besides they're mad at him because he made complimentary comments about the Covid vaccine and admitted to having gotten the booster. It's that mentality that keeps us mired in this pandemic.

We are being held hostage by two forces: greed and anti-intellectual, right-wing ideology. 

More of the world needs to be vaccinated. That's just not happening. Wealthy nations are buying millions of doses for their citizens, while most of the countries in Africa are well below 40 percent vaccinated. Pfizer, BioNTech, and Moderna are making a combined $65,000/minute in profit. They'll continue to make big money as they will need to continue to tinker with the Covid vaccine to address emergent strains of the virus.What needs to happen is for these companies to release their patents and let other manufacturers produce the vaccine and increase the global supply. Luckily, it looks like there is a new vaccine recently approved that could be made more quickly, less expensively, and without the patent restrictions.

The other force holding us hostage are the self-proclaimed "patriots" who refuse to wear masks or get the vaccine. There are far too many of them. They possess a stupid amount of guns. Finally, they've demonstrated over and over that they will scream and pout and plot to kidnap and execute Gretchen Whitmer, governor of Michigan. Only eight states have a broad mask mandate. Eight. That is not enough. This is why the country is in the midst of yet another surge. 

Maybe it ends soon. Maybe not. We've handled this whole mess poorly and my expectations are low.

David Bowie

Today would have been David Bowie's 75th birthday. I don't get terribly sentimental when celebrities die. David Bowie was different. He was a rock n' roll god whom I actively worshiped. My best friend Monica and I shared Bowie mix tapes and discussed his perfection endlessly.

I can't listen to Bowie without thinking about Monica. She died in a car accident about five years after we graduated from high school. I was crushed. I still get a little emotional about it. Every year, on Bowie's birthday, I listen to as much Bowie as I can, have a little cry, and remember my friend.

I thought right now might be a good time to share my ten favorite Bowie songs, in no particular order.

1. Moonage Daydream

2. Changes

3. Let's Dance

4. Rebel Rebel

5. Scary Monsters

6. Under Pressure

7. Look Back in Anger

8. Breaking Glass

9. TVC15

10. Young American

This is the list today. It will probably change later.

How to Love by Thich Nhat Hanh

 I'm thinking about the poem I wrote and shared the other day. Before I wrote that, love had been on my mind a lot lately. It still is.

Just before the Christmas break started, I stopped in at 27th Letter Books to look around. Someone had told me about the store in the summer. It's spacious and friendly with a great variety of books. As usual, I had no idea what I was looking for, I just knew that I was looking for something. I found a book by bell hooks (this is probably a week before she died) - all about love: New Visions. I had read essays by hooks, but none of her books, so I decided that I needed to change that. I bought the book, went home, and promptly devoured it.

It deserves a more thorough and mindful reading than I think I gave it. I plan on reading hooks' book one more time and discussing it here. No matter how quickly I read it, it really sparked something inside of me. It sparked a realization that I've probably been "loving" all wrong. My life-long version of love has probably been more lust, with me accepting the time someone spends in bed with me as, at least, affection.

The thing is, in general, no one teaches us about love. That's an idea that hooks mentions several times in her book. Some time in kindergarten, some weirdo relatives starting asking if you have a boyfriend/girlfriend. That's not an invitation to love, but it sure does shape our views on companionship. So much, that in my life, I continually choose someone just because he's willing to stick around for a while, insuring that I'm not physically alone for a bit.

Reading all about love took me to a little book I have by Thich Nhat Hanh called How to Love. It's a small book with big ideas about love.These are ideas I wished we openly and actively discussed instead of encouraging five-year olds to roam the playground, looking for romance. For example, Hanh suggests that there are four elements of true love: loving kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. He states that, "if your love contains these elements, it will be healing and transforming."

Healing and transforming sound beautiful, so why don't we teach children how to cultivate those elements in all their relationships, romantic or not? Instead, we get to middle school with the caveat, "all kids get teased/bullied sometime."

At 54, I've become romantically invisible to men. That makes me feel quite sad, especially as I'm just learning about these concepts now. It would be great to put them to use. I can, of course, apply loving kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity to all relationships I have, which is a worthy endeavor. 

The big challenge will be to cultivate these elements toward myself and not just to others. I am worthy of compassion and joy and loving kindness and equanimity. I may not always believe it, but I am. We are all.

I Can't Think of a Title for This Post

It's the end of 2021 and the usual thing to do is to write some sort of summary of the year that is set to come to a close. I don't really want to do that, but I'm feeling called to write something at the moment.

There is a lot going on in my head right now, and I'm not entirely sure how to process it all. That's not entirely true. I feel a poem churning in my soul. Here it is:

How many decisions do we make in a year?

Hundreds of thousands? Millions? More?

So many on autopilot - with little thought behind them.

Many made to temporarily fill a void, ease a discomfort - 

        so many miss the root.

Love 

or (more likely)

a fear of love

or 

a lack of love 

at the root of what ails me. Probably us.

Set an intention to let love drive more decisions.

What's the Point?

 I'm pretty sure that I'm going to come across as a bitter old person here and frankly I'm okay with that.

I admit that I have spent too much time this holiday break scrolling. Occasionally, I've checked out some of the short videos on FB and IG. After doing so for the last week, I have but one question:

 

What's the point?

 

I generally enjoy watching videos of huskies "talking." I miss having a dog, so those videos probably fill a small void in my life. I ran into a video the other day that put a stop to this new habit of mine.

The video involved a husky laying next to a crying baby. It looked like the husky nuzzled the baby a couple of times. I tuned up the volume and discovered the voice of an adult, likely a man, who was hushing the baby and whispering, "Stop crying."

What was the point?

Put down your phone and go comfort the child. You can even snuggle in with the dog at the same time. Are comments like "awww, look at the good boi trying to soothe the baby" that much more important than signaling that you will be a source of comfort for this child? What are we thinking?

It got me thinking and I'm closely monitoring my social media "usage" today. Let's face it, social media usage is mostly just passive scrolling. That's not healthy. Not for me and probably not for any of us.

Rant over - thanks

Feral

We are nearly a full year into the COVID crisis. Road trips were cancelled. Concert tickets refunded. I haven't had a drink or a bite to eat with a friend. I know that many people in the States have ignored recommendation and lived as if the pandemic doesn't mean anything to them, but my guess is that's why the US is currently at 485,000 COVID deaths.

About a month ago, I wrote about how sick I had been during a large part of the 2020 portion of the pandemic. That meant that I hadn't kept up a number of relationships that now lie in ashes. I hardly talked with anyone. I didn't have the energy.

That takes it own kind of toll on humans, or at least me. The less time I spend with people, the more isolated I am, the more nervous I feel around others. I now experience a great deal of anxiety at the grocery store. I like grocery shopping and always have, especially if the store is fairly empty. I'm not so good in a pre-holiday grocery store. Now, I go once a week, early on Sunday morning. It's pretty empty. Whenever another costumer approaches me, I feel myself tense up and ready to flee from their presence. It's the same feeling I get waiting in line to pay. My mind is racing with silents pleas for people to keep their distance from my space.

The last time I felt like this was when I was out of work for a year. I never left the house because I didn't have any money to go any where. I was a social wreck. I'm sure I botched interviews because I had forgotten how to talk with people.

At some point this spring, I will return to my classroom once a week, to work with very small groups of students. I will have to interact with coworkers, with whom I had only worked five months before we all went home. I have no idea how to talk with them. "So, how was your quarantine?" feels pretty weak to me. Or, my loneliness will explode and I won't shut up, blathering on about nothing. I'll be fully vaccinated, but I'm worried about navigating simple human interactions.

Can I hug my vaccinated coworkers and how creepy is it that I want, no need those hugs? Or eventually when I find myself in a bar and maybe a stranger flirts with me? Okay, I'm over 50 and that won't happen, but maybe it will. How do we work out the awkwardness in a way that is healthy and keeps the inner critic at bay?

Clearly, I'll meditate. I'm still so distracted and at loose ends, that I get almost nothing accomplished. I still shy away from humans and normal interaction. I'm trying not to worry to much. Perhaps being in my classroom will be a good distraction.

I'll sort it out. Or I won't. I'll be back in the world at some point, my feral nature sorted or not.

Not an Introvert and this Surprises Me

At the start of the pandemic and the accompanying shelter-at-home phase, people of the Internet divided themselves into two camps: introverts and extroverts. Introverts declared that they had been training for this crisis their entire lives. Extroverts, on the other hand, declared that they were not okay. For all of my life, I had cast myself firmly, but quietly, into Camp Introvert. Eleven months in, I'm not so sure.

As a child, I was terribly shy. Even now, in certain situations, I still am. I do not feel comfortable walking into a gathering with a lot of people and then I'm supposed to sort out where to go. I hate, HATE parties where spontaneous joy is expected to materialize out of thin air. That includes birthday, Super Bowl, and New Year's Eve parties.

I also need a few days after social events to recharge my batteries. I need silence and slow in those periods so I can get my bearings again. If I have to go to a wedding, please do not contact me until a few days after the event. I just don't have the energy.

Oddly, I teach for a living. That requires me to be on and social for six to seven hours a day, five days a week. Yes, it tires me out. It also rejuvenates me at the same time. Like sexuality, I don't necessarily think that all people are either introverts or extroverts. I think that there's a range in there and I fall in that range.

For example, I am a hopeless flirt. I love flirting and shamelessly find myself flirting with strangers at bars, grocery stores, concerts, anywhere. I don't even need liquid courage. Eleven months into this crisis, I deeply miss flirting.

I like going on road trips and talking with strangers in strange places. 

I miss idly chatting with the cashier or bartender or cab driver or anyone else out in public. I love starting random conversations. I have to gather a little energy to do it, but I'm not really put off by the idea of talking with strangers. Truth be told, I often find it very rewarding. I don't think that someone who is 100 percent an introvert likes striking up random conversations.

I fall somewhere in the grey zone, where the color of company is welcome. Don't invite me to a party, but do invite me out to wander the city and we'll have a blast.

Putting in the effort

I have consistently sabotaged my own efforts in so many endeavors, simply because I don't believe in myself. 

I've done this with musical lessons, relationships, friendships, school work, you name it, I've blown up my own progress. This is why I often hesitate to publicly talk about big goals that I have in my mind. If I share them with people and then I emotionally or intellectually self-emolliate, people will know of my failure.

I'm not afraid of making mistakes. I make them all the time with my students or my son. I've even learned how to model dealing with making mistakes. It's the sabotaging of my life and my dreams that I don't want on display. Who needs to see that kind of carnage?

I've decided this year to quietly put forth effort in areas that are important to me, like exercise and writing. No grand pronouncements, just quiet and genuine effort. I'm keeping track of my progress in my journals, of which I have a few. Each journal has a different purpose. Those journals help me be my own audience and actually, so far, have kept the inner critic at bay.

Soft, barely audible baby steps are still steps in the right direction.  

You say you want to end white supremacy? Really?

Great! I agree 100 percent with the goal of ending white supremacy. It won't be easy, but with diligence, we can achieve this goal.

Let's look at today - Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. President Reagan signed the bill making the third Monday in January a federal holiday and then it was first observed in 1986.

Of course, not all 50 states agreed to celebrate Dr. King's birthday. It took until 2000 for South Carolina, Utah, and Virginia to recognize the holiday. 

In addition to white people and their representatives not wanting to honor Dr. King, there are two states that still have a Robert E. Lee Day around the same time as Dr. King Day: Alabama and Mississippi.

There are still states that celebrate Confederate Memorial Day. 

If you are a white person who truly wants to take an anti-racist stand and you live in a state that officially honors the traitors who fought to uphold slavery, I encourage you to work with others around you who also want to be anti-racist and make these holidays disappear. It won't erase history, the Confederacy lost and slavery ended. That's the history. Instead, ending these holidays sends the message that the white supremacist beliefs that lay at the foundation of slavery and Jim Crow and murderers with badges that go unpunished are unacceptable and not meant to be put on a pedestal of false honor.

Ending these holidays won't be the end of our troubles, but it's a good step in the right direction. I don't have a ton of cash, but I'll gladly donate to organizations that are doing this work.

 

I was really sick...

 In 2015, doctors discovered that I had an ulcer that I had that caused a great deal of blood loss. That led to me feeling very sick and a dangerous drop in my hemoglobin and iron counts. Since then, I've taken iron pills and carefully monitor my bloodwork.

Starting in January of last year, I could tell that my hemoglobin/iron was dropping. I can tell because I get out of breath more easily. My heart pounds much harder when I mildly exert myself. My mood dips into depression. I immediately started the process of getting blood work done. I started eating meat after more than a decade of being a vegetarian. 

Sadly, my health continued to decline. I got a blood transfusion on April 10, when my hemoglobin had dropped into the 70s, which is a dangerously low count (or so I've been told). A few weeks later, I had a series of iron infusions. Those helped for about a month, though my count never got higher than 90. It quickly dipped back in the 70s.

From the start of the shelter-at-home until the middle of September, I could hardly move from one room to the next without being short of breath. Suicidal ideation returned with a vengeance. I cried all the time as I retreated further and further into myself.

I reached the nadir of my health woes in early September. I had just started teaching online. One night, I felt as though I was having a heart attack: anxiety, pain in my chest, pain down my left arm, and diarrhea. I told myself that it was the anemia and that if I lived through the night, I would go to the hospital the next day after school, if I still had symptoms. What a deal to make!

I lived and still had some symptoms, so I went to the emergency room. I had not had a heart attack. A series of tests after that would reveal that my heart is in pretty good shape. A week after the non-heart attack, I started a second round of iron infusions, which seemed to have worked this time.

I have energy. I'm able to exercise (at home, pandemic-style). I've just done yoga for the 15th day in a row. I'm doing simple dumbbell exercises for my arms. I've written a little bit everyday. I don't cry as often and I haven't really thought about suicide in a while. I'm reaching out to people and trying to have a conversation with another human (who's not my son or a student) at least once a week. I didn't do any of that from March until September. I feel like a human again.

As of a little before Christmas, my hemoglobin was a healthy 120. That's where is should be. We still have no idea why I experienced the extreme drop of hemoglobin and iron and I suppose that we will try to figure that out. I'm grateful to be past this crisis so I can pay attention to other parts of my health and partake in activities that feed my soul.