Just Write.

Chris

Obviously I haven’t been as consistent with my blogging here as I could have been. There are lots of reasons excuses, none of which are really good. Fear is the largest one, fear that what I write isn’t good enough, isn’t interesting enough, isn’t important enough. Isn’t “enough” enough.

Today I came to the realization that it doesn’t matter. If I want to write, then I should write. And if I want to get better at writing and tap back into the creative flow that I used to have, I need to write. Just write.

It has been a weird past few months, culminating in an almost existential crisis this past week where I seriously wondered what I was doing with my life and what my purpose was. So many of my family and friends have jobs where they directly help people – educators, medical professionals, counselors, therapists – and I feel like my job doesn’t matter. Sometimes I don’t think it even matters to my company, because so many of the things I’ve worked on over the past few years have been canceled before they were complete. It has made me feel a bit lost and wondering if I should find a new job where I have more impact. I don’t need to change the world, but it would be nice to feel a personal satisfaction with my work. Except the jobs that I am drawn to are not ones I could really make a living doing… at least not comfortably. My current job may not be where my heart is, but it is financially secure.

It’s really easy to say “money isn’t everything” or “money shouldn’t be the main concern” except I have seen what happens on the other end of that mindset and I am not willing to risk that. I am my own (and my only) safety net. Cutting it because I’m feeling bored or unfulfilled at my current job is not a good long-term plan.

Maybe it’s not a question of finding a job that fulfills me and provides satisfaction, but maybe a hobby. In many ways, writing used to be that hobby. Twenty years ago I would bring a spiral notebook with me to work and write in the cafeteria during lunch and on break. I still remember the feeling of surprise and revelation while writing a scene from “Renegade” and discovering Joshua knew that Vin was innocent. Joshua saying “Shame, too, them hanging an innocent man and all” came out of nowhere, and it surprised me as much as it surprised Vin. It was one of the times I remember feeling so drawn into a story that it just flowed.

Unfortunately around that time is also when I began over-thinking my writing because I realized people were actually reading it, and I discovered that the cast members from The Magnificent Seven were aware of my website where the story was posted. The thought of Rick Worthy reading my interpretation of Nathan still has the power to make me cringe. I started worrying about “what the audience would think of it” and self-edited to the point that I lost the feeling of flow. Writing became more a source of anxiety than an escape, and eventually I stopped.

I still have stories in my head, plots in my notes, stories I’ve thought of over the years that I would love to get on paper, but have let the anxiety of “what the audience would think of it” keep me from putting them down. If I can let go of that anxiety and find the flow again, maybe that world-building and writing will offer the satisfaction that I’m not finding in my job right now.

The only way to find out is to just write.

Reframing My Goals

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I made it to water aerobics on Tuesday and even though I knew I was going to really feel that workout, I went home with a pleasant feeling of tiredness that I really kind of enjoyed. I could tell I had exercised, but I wasn’t so tired and sore that I regretted it. It was like my muscles were saying “Oh, that’s right – THIS is what we’re meant to do!” Thanks to that and a nice hot soak in an epsom salt bath, I’m really looking forward to doing it again tomorrow!

This evening I had a massage – a self-care item that I have not been doing often enough – and it was obvious to me and to my therapist that even after just two water aerobics sessions, my muscles were less tight than they were before. I know part of that is because I’m actually using them instead of just sitting at my desk or on the couch. Or even just walking (which I’m trying to do more of, as well). And it feels good. My shoulder that had been stiff and sore feels so much better, I’m sleeping a little better, and I’m excited about the changes. I’ve already signed up for 8 classes in June.

All of this has led me to reframe my health goals. I am trying to lose weight, and have been off an on for years (haven’t we all?), and so far I have fallen short pretty much every time.

So this time I’m going to focus instead on a goal of “attending all my water aerobics classes” instead of giving in to the desire to slack off and skip one… or two… or five… or all of them. My goal is to build a twice-weekly habit of getting off my rump and getting into the pool. It’s not scary, it’s not burdensome, it’s not even that far away. It’s just making the commitment to do it.

Water Water Everywhere

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Last night I couldn’t sleep (no big surprise), so I did exactly the wrong thing and started surfing on my phone. I found our local community center has water aerobics classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so at 11pm on Wednesday night I signed up for the Thursday class.

I almost talked myself out of it – I was too big, my swimsuit didn’t fit, I’m not in good enough shape and I’ll drop out like I did on the salsa class, I’d be making a fool of myself – but I sucked it up and went anyway. And I loved it. Most of the students were older, the teacher was about my age, and it was a workout without being so backbreaking that I wanted to quit.

I’m going back on Tuesday. And next Thursday if there is a spot available. And as many Tuesdays and Thursdays after that as I can. I intend to make this class a habit, and a stepping stone to other better habits.

Waxing and Waning

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This week is the waxing moon, which symbolically is representative of setting intentions, reaching goals, and increasing energy. I’ve never really done a lot of work with regards to moon phases, aside from full and new, because so many of my intentions are about things decreasing – my weight, my stress level, stuff like that. And it always seemed counterintuitive to me to focus on losing during a waxing moon. Of course by the time the waning moon rolled around I had forgotten my good intentions from a couple of weeks before, and then suddenly it’s the new moon and I’m back in the cycle again.

So this time I’m trying something new. I am trying to visualize my goals as things I want to increase instead of decrease and setting my intentions that way. Things like “increase the time I spend meditating” (instead of “reducing my stress”) and “increase the number of bubbles filled in on my goal chart” (each bubble represents a pound of weight lost). Things I can visualize as growth instead of loss.

I have also become enamored of the idea of getting a hybrid kayak/stand up paddleboard (SUP). I love kayaking, but the logistics of hauling and storage have meant that I’ve been relying on renting for the past several years. It is a lot easier, but it means I’m working on someone else’s schedule and I’m ready to strike out on my own… I think. I have a tendency to get really excited about really expensive hobbies and then end up with a lot of really pricey stuff that I never use, so I am trying to temper my enthusiasm with realism this time around. I have my eye on an inflatable SUP with a kayak seat attachment, meaning that as I work on my balance and core to SUP, I can also enjoy it as a kayak. I find time on the water extremely relaxing, and it can also be a workout. Both of which are positive steps towards my intentions, so that’s a good thing.

Wait… did I just talk myself into a kayak/SUP?

Moose Adventures

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For the past decade I’ve loved the idea of getting a travel trailer and taking road trips across the country. My family had a van and a pop-up camper when I was growing up, and those were some of the best memories I remember from my childhood. But I’ve never had a vehicle that could tow anything over 1500 pounds, and there aren’t many options for travel trailers under that weight limit.

So I bought a truck.

Call it a midlife crisis. Call it the first step towards a dream. Call it incredibly impractical. Call it a ton of fun. Call it all of these. It is a blue 2020 Ram 1500 Lone Star Crew Cab, with enough engine and rear axle to tow 11,000 pounds. That’s a lot more capacity than I was looking for to be honest, but with all the other options it had, it was 98% the truck that I would have built if I ordered it direct from Ram. I couldn’t resist.

I call him Moose.

He’s big, he’s strong, and he’s surprisingly agile. It seemed like an appropriate name. The fact that I have had “Blue Moon” by The Marcels stuck in my head for the past week and a half is a small price to pay for the opportunity to see the country in comfort!

I am learning a lot about driving a truck that I had forgotten, since I haven’t driven a vehicle this large since the early 1990s (my ex-boyfriend had a 1976 Chevy Suburban that was built like a tank). The Ram handles really well and has a really nice ride, and so far I’m very happy.

He also has heated front seats. What’s not to like?

I hope to blog on our adventures once we get going!

Balance and Renewal at Ostara

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Khepri, Egyptian god of resurrection and renewal

It has been a long time since I have done any sort of formal observation of Ostara (the spring equinox). Although I have been cognizant of the date and have recognized the turning of the Wheel, I haven’t done a full-on ritual or any deep spiritual work for the Sabbat in many years.

This year feels different.

This year I am feeling called like I haven’t felt in a long time, and feeling a connection to the energy of the spring and the growing earth like I haven’t felt in years. It’s exciting and a little frightening, because there are a lot of things I walled myself off from long ago that felt like this. This connection. This sense of other. And while there were good reasons for building that wall at the time, there are a lot of things I lost and I miss from having done it.

I don’t remember how I found (or was found by) Khepri, the Egyptian god who represents resurrection, renewal, and the sun. And while the scarab that represents him is ubiquitous in Egyptian mythology, Khepri himself seems to be nowhere near as well known as gods like Asar (Osiris), Aset (Isis), Ra, Heru (Horus), etc. But he has been present in my life for longer than I have been actively aware of it. Maybe it’s only appropriate that I’m feeling this pull towards renewing my spirit and spirituality during the spring equinox this year.

Maybe it’s the gods hitting me upside the head with a clue-by-four and reminding me that the path is always there if I’m willing to take it. ::grin::

Ostara is about rebirth and growth, but also about balance. I want to use this time to rebuild and nourish my spirit, and to find the balance that I remember having.

Let’s Do That Hockey!

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When the NHL season went on pause last March, the Dallas Stars were on a 6-game losing streak. Even though I have been a season ticket holder for a number of years, I had stopped going to the last few games because it was depressing. They just weren’t playing well. Then the pause happened and the Stars ended up getting their act together, becoming the Western Conference Champions, and getting to Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals. Of course, since they were in the bubble in Edmonton, we fans couldn’t attend any of the playoff or Cup games.

That was when I told myself I wouldn’t take “going to a live hockey game” for granted again. And even though my seatmate and I opted not to do season tickets this year, I knew I wanted to go to the Home Opener if there was any way to do that. Because of pandemic restrictions there are only about 5,000 seats available for the game (capacity of the arena is about 18,000), and I managed to get a single ticket, high in the upper bowl, without breaking the bank.

To say I’m excited is an understatement! And yeah, a little bit of trepidation about being around that many people, but between the distancing of the seats, the low capacity, the masks, and the fact that I got my first dose of the vaccine last week, I’m planning to just stay away from as many people as possible and enjoy the game. It’s probably the only live game I’m going to this season, so I’ll have to do a full six months worth of cheering in 60 minutes. Good thing I don’t have to work the next day.

Let’s go, Stars!

Eleven Years

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Eleven years ago, on January 19, 2010, my life changed forever. That was the day my husband died. There are things about that day that I remember as clearly as though it was yesterday. There are things I can’t remember at all. I remember calling 911 and telling the dispatcher “Well he’s coughing up blood so it’s pretty damn serious.” I remember the EMTs getting to the house around 8:40am, and me wedging myself into the spot between the bed and the side table so I could still hold my husband’s hand as the EMTs examined him. I remember him passing out before they could get much more than his name. I don’t remember them transferring him onto the gurney to take him out to the ambulance.

I was anticipating spending the day in the hospital at his bedside, so I grabbed my laptop and went to my car to follow the ambulance. It sat at the curb. For a very long time. For what felt like forever. And then the back of the ambulance started bouncing up and down and I knew they were doing CPR and that was when I started to cry. The driver came out of the back and asked if I wanted to ride with them to the hospital. I remember saying “Fuck yeah let me get my stuff” and grabbing my purse and jumping in the cab of the ambulance. I remember accidentally hitting the siren switch on the floor with my foot. I remember the dispatcher routing the ambulance onto a side street due to a wreck on the main road, and I remember thinking that if I had tried to drive my husband to the hospital, we would have been stuck in that main road traffic. I remember wanting to scream at the people who wouldn’t get out of the way of the ambulance with its sirens and lights going – my husband was dying and they wouldn’t get the hell out of the way.

I remember the ambulance pulling up to the ER and the EMT saying he’d come back for me, and I said “Don’t be surprised if I’m not here” because I jumped out and followed the EMTs and the gurney into the ER. I remember seeing one EMT riding the rail of the gurney because he was still doing CPR on my husband. I remember thinking that CPR in real life looks nothing like it does on TV. I remember stopping in the door to the trauma room, and someone asking me if I wanted to go to the waiting room. I said no, that I would never be able to forgive myself if I left him. The person asked if I wanted to stay. I looked at him and said “My mom is a nurse. I know what the odds are.”

They got me a chair and let me sit next to my husband as they worked on him in the trauma room. I tried to stay out of their way, but kept my hand on his arm so he knew I was there, if he was able to know anything. They worked on him for what felt like forever but was probably around 10 minutes before they realized there was nothing that could be done and that he was gone. I don’t remember if it was 9:12 or 9:17. But my husband was gone.

I remember sitting there with my head against his arm as the tears came, trying to remember how to breathe, trying to think of what came next. I didn’t have my mom’s work phone number but I did have my sister-in-law’s, so I called her and said that Dan had been taken to the ER and they think he had a heart attack. I remember my sis-in-law asking “How long is he going to be in the hospital?” and I told her “He’s dead.” I remember staying by his side while I made phone calls – his mom, his brother, my family, the organ donation people, my doctor… the hospital was marvelous to let me have that room with him to take care of what I could while I still had a grip on my sanity.

His mom lived nearby and said she would come down. My mom lived 2,000 miles away and got on the next flight down. And while I waited, I remember looking at my Dan, the love of my life, my Dear Heart, looking at his ears growing dark as the blood pooled in them and the fluid coming up the breathing tube in his throat, and I remember watching the fluid level still rise even after he was dead. I don’t know to this day what actually happened – the death certificate says “lobar pneumonia” because his lungs were full of fluid (and weighed twice what they should have). My personal theory is ARDS caused by some sort of infection that resulted in his lungs being rapidly flooded with fluid.

I don’t remember how long I stayed there. I stayed as long as I could. I remember holding his hand and removing the wedding band that I had put there three and a half years earlier. I still wear that band on my left middle finger today. But I eventually had to say goodbye. I don’t remember how I got home, I think his mom came and picked me up. She must have, because I think I remember telling her I wanted to be alone. I didn’t have the strength to help anyone else with their own grief – I barely had enough strength to deal with mine. I spent the afternoon in bed, in the bed where he passed out holding my hand, crying my heart out. There were papers on the floor that the EMTs had discarded – maybe for EKG leads, I don’t know – and they looked like paper flowers.

I threw them away.

The rest of the day is a blur. My mom came down on a flight. I don’t know if I picked her up at the airport or if she took a cab to my house. I remember that I didn’t eat anything for like three days. Nothing smelled good, nothing tasted good, nothing sounded good. Eventually mom and I went to get sushi, because it was protein and carbs in bite-sized pieces. People came to town. We planned the funeral. I remember being a control freak with the casket spray and the florist was generous enough to let me come in and help put the spray together. Other friends helped gather pictures and things that I wanted at the funeral and they took care of setting up things at the funeral. Dan was agnostic so there was no religious ceremony, but we invited his friends and family to come up and say some words. Friends, family, co-workers… I think for them it was interesting to see the different facets of his personality and his life that they didn’t know. I knew them all and it was comforting for me to hear everyone else talk about what he meant to them.

I remember getting up at the end of the ceremony and going up to the podium and looking at the people, and the thing that came to mind to say was “Well, I bet you didn’t think there’d be a quiz today…” I think I said thank you for coming, and I know I said some things about him, but the only thing I remember is “Dan wasn’t perfect… but he was perfect for me.” I remember so many people coming up and giving their condolences and I was just working so hard to keep it together that I don’t remember faces or words. My mom told me later that my brothers were always within a couple feet of me, keeping an eye on me, and that makes me feel good even to this day.

When the last people left the room I went back up to the casket to look at my love one last time. I put my hand on his heart, made a promise to him, and that’s when my knees finally gave out and I bawled for a few minutes on the ground next to the casket. Family and friends went back to the house afterwards and I vaguely remember telling stories and reminiscing but at that point I had reached “Numb” so I don’t remember much.

I do remember taking the shirt and the shoes that I wore for the funeral and throwing them away because I never wanted to wear them ever again.

I also remember making the comment that I didn’t want flowers for my birthday anymore (which was two days after the funeral) because people had brought several of the floral arrangements from the funeral back to the house and the dining room table was covered with them. My mom never got me flowers for my birthday again.

Over the past 11 years I have rebuilt my life into something that I am content with. It’s not what I wanted, not what I expected, not what I would have chosen… but it’s mine and I have to deal with it. It’s where the belief “Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful” was born, because there is still beauty to be found. It’s just harder to see.

But January 19 will always be hard.

232

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I think I picked the wrong picture of Grogu for my last entry. I think I should have gone with this one – the “WTF is happening and why has the world gone crazy?” look.

I knew there were rabid fanatics out there. I didn’t realize how rabid – and delusional. Never did I imagine that a bunch of lunatics would storm the Capitol building and try to prevent Congress from carrying out their duties. I never thought there would be people on Twitter who honestly – HONESTLY – thought that Trump was telling them the truth, that by fighting and taking action they could “Save America” and “Stop the Steal” by basically overthrowing our democracy.

And they did it like it was no big deal. So wrapped up in their anger and blinded by their loyalty to a man who deserves none – and who gives none in return – they broke into the seat of the Legislative Branch, breaking and stealing and vandalizing… and killing.

All for a man who doesn’t care about them. All for a man who sees them as nothing more than a reflection of his own ego.

Now these people are hopefully going to face serious charges and penalties for listening to and believing the lies of a narcissistic conman. Their lives may be ruined, and they have ruined the lives of others. And for what? For a delusion that had no semblance of reality.

I can’t imagine what the people who rioted at the Capitol thought was going to happen. Did they think that it was some Hollywood movie, that magically they would stop the Big Bad from “winning” and Trump would remain president and they would all live happily ever after, fade to black? That they would be the heroes of their own little personal action flick? That they had reached the Boss Level of some video game and when they won there would be fanfare and a “High Score!” banner for them?

What did they think was going to happen?

As for the people who were caught up in the mob mentality and went along “to see what was happening” – they knew it was wrong. At least I hope to god they knew, at some level, that it was wrong. But they went along like kids sneaking into the teachers lounge on a dare, emboldened by the protection of the others. “They can’t stop all of us”… isn’t that the cry they wanted to use at Area 51? (Which reminds me, did anyone see a Naruto Run at the Capitol?)

There is one good thing that came out of all the idiots who were walking around the Capitol like it was no big deal. So many of them had cell phones and were taking pictures and livestreaming their antics that there are lots of faces for the FBI and DOJ to sift through. And even though some folks may have made it home, their faces are still out there. So while they wait for law enforcement to knock on their door, I hope they have plenty of time to regret what they have done.

As for Trump… when he was first elected I did some reading on hubris and on Nemesis. Hubris describes a personality quality of extreme or foolish pride or dangerous overconfidence, often in combination with (or synonymous with) arrogance. One thing I knew about Greek gods is that they tend to get upset with mortals who exhibit hubris, and Nemesis was tasked with meting out divine retribution for their arrogance.

Everything that has happened in the past two and a half months (actually longer, but since the election mostly) has struck me as divine retribution for his arrogance. And even when he has a chance to mitigate the damage, his hubris continues to grow as he digs in with the unwavering belief that HE is right and EVERYONE ELSE is wrong and his lies are the truth and the truth is a lie. So far that arrogance has cost him the presidency, it has cost him a second impeachment, it has cost him his social media accounts, his PGA sponsorship, his banking relationships, his public and private sponsorships. It has cost him the people who considered themselves his friends (though they were fooling themselves – they may have been his friend, but he was never their friend), and it has cost him the people who considered themselves his supporters in the GOP… but not nearly enough, because there are still numerous delusional fanatics out there who would turn on their erstwhile friends like rabid dogs if they dared defied Trump’s will. Such is the power of a cult.

There was a certain irony in the impeachment vote today. Enough Republican House members voted for impeachment that the vote total was 232… the exact same number of electoral votes Trump received in his 2020 election loss.

Maybe the gods do have a sense of humor after all.

Looking Forward Towards 2021 Like…

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It’s finally January. Lots of stuff going on. My 50th birthday. NHL Hockey returns. A new President. Accelerated COVID vaccinations. New projects at work. And a heartfelt goodbye to a year that was pretty sucky around the world.

Just because it’s January doesn’t mean that things are magically going to be better. I know that. It will take work and patience and effort… but just the turning of the calendar page can offer a mental reset and a chance to “start fresh”.

This year’s theme is “Health, Wealth, and Hearth”. I want to have defined goals in those three areas that I can work towards.

Health means getting my weight and cholesterol back under control. I have baseline numbers from my blood donation on December 26th and they are NOT pretty. It means exercising regularly. Using my treadmill. Taking the dogs on walks and to the park. Making healthy food choices on a more regular basis. Eating more oatmeal for breakfast. Taking advantage of “the internet of things” to bring interest and variety to my movement choices.

Wealth means to getting my finances in line. Paying off my final outstanding debt. Sticking to a budget. Maxing out my 401K. Making better purchasing choices. Not giving in to impulse spending. Setting up a Replacement Car fund so when my current vehicle dies, I don’t have to completely finance another one. Developing a “side hustle” that I can do to provide some supplemental income, preferably something I could do on the road after I retire from my full time job. Building my nest egg so I can retire while I’m still able to enjoy it. That ties into Health, as well, because no one is guaranteed tomorrow and if I want to be able to enjoy retirement, I have to take care of myself.

Hearth is working on various home improvement projects – some new, some old – that I have been writing down for weeks, months, or sometimes years. Retile the laundry room. Clean up the backyard. Paint the house and shutters. Redo the landscape in front so I’m not looking at “the backside of bushes” all day now that I’m working from home permanently. Bring more koselig into my home. Remove the clutter. Clear enough space in the garage for a vehicle… or a kayak… or a small popup trailer.

2021 isn’t guaranteed to be an improvement over 2020. But I can always try to make it one.