librarieseverywhere

[librarieseverywhere]

Virginia Vacay

We just had the best summer week and i wanted to be sure and record it. Amidst the pandemic, it was just so purely wonderful to be with friends.

We rented a vacation home in Wintergreen for a week. The house had 3 bedrooms and a porch where we did most of our dining. We brought Clem along and kept her in our bedroom. 

On Thursday night the 2nd, we drove out with Clem, and met Chris & Meredith. They made pizza and we sat out on the deck for dinner and wine. 

Friday, after shakshouka, we headed to the Lake Monacan Beach, which was brimming with children but had a nice dock to jump off of and into the water. We brought ciders and drowsed in the bright sun. On the way back to the house, we stopped at the Wild Wolf Brewery for some drinks on their patio - the beers were good. 

B and I made burgers, corn salad, and served key lime pie for dessert. We ate all the summer foods and then some. 

Saturday was fourth of July, and we went to the Nelson County Farmers Market, an antique store, Hilltop Winery. We ate strawberry softserve and a fruit farm across from Blue Mountain, until we headed over to Blue Mountain for lunch. It was lively but spaced nicely. It was hot. We rode the chairlift back at Wintergreen and took a walk on the mountain before dinner. Chris and Meredith made a fish and a pasta. We ate a summer berry cobbler. All the tastes of summer, each day. We played some games. 

On Sunday, I did yoga on the deck in the morning (very nice!), and we geared up for a hike on a water fall. Instead of driving to the bottom, B found a cut through, which I think he and I appreciated, to make the hike longer, but it was quite steep and overgrown. The waterfall was lovely and this was our only day of rain as we were coming back up the trail. We found a reservation for Veritas Winery for an early dinner  - this was a favorite activity of mine - we sat on this big, airy porch overlooking the vineyards for dinner. Our server was this funny young guy who knew nothing but it made for lots of laughs. The food was good, the wine was also good. we went back and played games and laughed a lot and had froses with Jeni’s icecream. 

Monday, B and I got up for a walk, and then made breakfast for everyone. We attempted to do Sherando Lake - but it was closed due to the pandemic. We instead hiked out a trail we discovered a few miles further out -- a very short trail that lead out to a reservoir. This was in the George Washington Forest. We walked around the lake until we came to a place where you could get down to the water and jump off some rocks. The water was beautiful and reminded me of our Upstate trip last year. Very clean and we were able to jump in and swim and enjoy. B loved this most because we had just happened upon it  while driving, and also because it wasn’t allowed (no swimming in the reservoir). We set up camp chairs along the creek and had our snacks and lunch. we tried to explore more parts of the trail back there, but could not find any more trails - a couple of lovely streams, but nothing with any distance. After, we went to Devils Backbone, which is gorgeously landscaped. We had dinner at home, back on the patio. Meredith made fishcakes and salad and we ate the rest of the key lime pie. 

Tuesday morning, B and I woke up for a hike, and did a part of the AT that we could access from Wintergreen  - lovely trail, lovely morning. Chris and Meredith were leaving, and Gayle and Richard were arriving. We did another hike through the Upper Shamokin Falls. The waterfall was gorgeous and fun and we could climb up in it and stomp around. We tried to loop back to make the hike longer, but we got lost and ended up walking a LOT longer, through a ski run, finally making it back up the road. 

Gayle and Richard arrived and we did yet another hike through a waterfall - also lovely, also steep - and then took them back to the reservoir. We had dinner at Blue Mountain that night, which was lovely - less crowded then on the 4th, and watching the evening light on the mountains was nice. We played Letter Jam. 

the next morning, Gayle and I did yoga on the deck, and then we got ready for another little hike - this one ended up being more of an easy walk - it was in grassy lands below the mountains, so it was all flat, but very beautiful. Then we went back to Lake Monacan, which was gorgeous and also less crowded this time. At around 4pm, the lake really cleared out, and the sun came out in full effect and that afternoon light on the water was so appetizing. B and I jumped off the dock and did dive after dive off of the floating dock. We had it all to ourselves. We had a round at Devils Backbone

We went back to the house and Richard made veggie burgers, potatoes, and corn.

It was so fun, such a great trip - being with friends, being outdoors in gorgeous summer weather, enjoying long, lingering evenings, and eating perfect summer food - corn and key lime and cobbler and softserve and white wine and beer. It was SO NICE playing games and laughing and sitting outside at every possible moment. I didn’t get any reading done, but I laughed and I moved my body and I relaxed. 

we went to Front Royal yesterday, to tube the river with Gayle, Richard, and Anna for B’s birthday - it was another gorgeous, utterly perfect summer day. 

Thankful for friends , the weather, summer still being summer, good food, and moving my body. 

[librarieseverywhere]

what have i learned about myself during this time?

what have i cultivated? what has changed? what was sweet, in its way? i do sense that i will be nostalgic when it’s all gone - but i look forward to that day. 

still, now it does seem strange - go to the office every day? instead of being at work from home? 

and being with Clem. Thank God we could be with Clem in this time. Still, my body is not what it should or would be. my depression and anxiety are insane. being in your 30s is just gutting - we are losing so much momentum, motivation, and life time that’s meant to be spent out of doors, with as many people as possible. what i’ve learned about myself is that all i have is people. This is supposed to be a building time in life, exciting, and also positive as we start to hit our strides. it’s devastating to me to lose this time - its not equivalent to time that will come later or time that came before. 

i’m sad. 

but we had a bike ride and a picnic at the Capitol last night, something we wouldn’t normally do on a Wednesday, and it was good. the weather was beautiful. 

[librarieseverywhere]

wrong blog. trying to keep things organized. 

still feeling a lot of loss and anger and fear. wanting to write more until i sit down to write, then i don’t want to write anymore. i feel unproductive. i don’t hardly read, we just watch tv. 

the weekend was fine - we did a bike/hike adventure to a wooded trail in ward 7 - quite lovely - and the weather was good. We sat outside with Gayle and Richard, I went to the garden with Tara, and we played trivia with Anna outdoors! Sunday was slower, just running our errands, and then I walked with Laura and Aubrey. then Monday. Our sweet escape. We made it last, hardly paddling. 

Memorial Day 2020

we did it - we went to the river. We floated all day in a kayak, the water was high, and moving quickly, we barely paddled. When we left DC it was cloudy, and we thought it would be cool, but the sun broke through and my knees got burned. In hindsight, we could’ve swam, or done the tubes, though that trip would’ve gone quick. 

We saw a snake, some turtles, some cows. We looked at the mountains and the green. We saw the sky. We said thank you and we welcomed the summer. 

They were glad to see us - said they just wanted to make it. I had bought the gift cards and they were grateful. We’ll go again and again this summer. We’ll keep them in business. They are so much a beloved part of my life, and the Monday trip is a tradition that keeps me grounded and thankful. 

It all looked different this year - but I also saw that outside DC, people aren’t being as strict as we are here. 

The rest of the weekend we spent at home, but it was ok. Clem has diabetes, and she needs us right now. We have adjusted both for the virus and then for the diabetes. 

[librarieseverywhere]

on remembering

i wish i remembered to write down everything, like how Clem gets so comfortable in my lap sometimes that she rolls off, or how the shower smells so good right when you first turn the water on here. It’s probably one of the best showers we’ll ever have. 

Clem has diabetes, and it’s been hard. We’re still trying to get the insulin dose right, and the timing. She eats the food, now, and that is good. she’s put on a little weight, but she seems tired. I look at her and wonder if she’s older than we’ve thought. 

What are cats for, if not for noticing? if not for slowing down time and bringing you into the present moment? But how often do I sit with the cat purring in my lap, while I stare at my phone, scrolling through instagram. Still, she ties me to here. 

Like last summer, when B was out of town, and it was hot and sticky and I didn’t feel very good, and after I swam my laps at the pool, I came and laid on the couch and watched the week’s worth of Colbert episodes and Clem lay across me, and next to me for the whole time. 

Or the morning where she smashed into the window trying to get a bird, and jumped up, clinging to the window ledge, smashing a picture frame in the process. 

How about how every single morning she jumps up on to the bed with a little squeak and starts to nudge me awake? the sound of her footsteps on the stairs? the way she watches the birds out the back door, tail twitching? I want to soak it all in. I wish I recorded every moment, because while now it seems long, it won’t be. Someday, we’ll come to a day, when Clem is only in our memories. Now, when I think about the next 10 years, they loom large, but if I haven’t learned yet, they go, and soon you will be through them, on the other side. We forget to look back, only to the next 10 years from there. 

I’m only taking it a day at a time now, wishing more than anything to be on the other side of this. Still, it is my life. 10 weeks have passed this way. My trip is a distant memory. 

I thought of other things to record, and then i forgot, my mind jumps around so much, I’m always so scattered, I rarely follow through. I’m not so motivated when it comes to work or creativity - another form of work. I seek adventures and social outlets. I distract myself with pleasure. 

Though I love my work, and if I can get myself to dig in, my head swims with ideas that I can’t write down fast enough. The same with creativity - I have ideas. It’s not all crazy when I jealously stalk the journalists on Twitter- a part of me really believes I could do it. But I just don’t have the drive. 

I’ve been thinking about time, too, here, because what has been such a scary, stressful, grievous time in my short life, will surely be just a blip in the history books later. We won’t remember. The world will forget us, those who were not here will not care. 

I’ve never thought much about what it might have been like to live through the Depression or WWII. 

Why would anyone care that I couldn’t leave my house for 10 weeks? That we questioned everything - maybe some of us for the first time ?

We found out today that we’re moving - we’re excited, but as always, i’m sad, too. The house was good to us. It’s too good for us, hence the problem. The apartment will be “right-sized” and for that, we should be excited. a place we can afford on our own. 

sometimes, i forget to miss my life, to grieve, to pray, to hold a moment for those who are suffering the most, and for the life that could have been. sometimes, i’m consumed by it.

It’s memorial day weekend, but i won’t be wearing my vacation dress and setting off to camp. the energy isn’t there, not this year, because we have a stay at home order. my favorite holiday of the year. i’ve let it go. i’m not too sad about it. i’ve let is all go and just pray for a future where this isn’t a problem anymore. 

i’m supposed to pray for not going back to normal, but so much of what i want is monday night yoga and memorial day in virginia. I want my life from the last few years to be frozen in place, for no one to go anywhere. I want to tell these past years, “thank you” For Clem, for Andrea, for NYAPC, for Ellen, for Chris and Meredith, Gayle and Richard, the Pub and the People. Thank you for the vacation dress and Eckington and Mexico and Argentina. Thank you for live music and cook outs and healthy bodies. 

So clearly, I see now - I had everythign I ever wanted. My life was going up - my career was finetuning, my community was gathering, my dreams were there - lurking in the way i lived. 

we rush, even now, and i don’t sit with my thoughts. i don’t remember the tragedy around me. i get distracted and worried and agitated - about clem’s diabetes and money and moving and work and not working enough and being bored. 

I don’t write everything down - i had a poetic thought earlier that I wanted to write, poignantly, just drop it into a post and leave it. I forgot it, my mind now skimming frantically over the day. 

Something below the surface feels not quite right - and I’ll forget that nothing is quite right - that I should be wakng up on a schedule and riding my bike to Dupont and then coming home, maybe pretty tired, maybe sweaty, maybe with a million things to do, maybe after stopping for yoga or a play at woolly mammoth, or just a drink with a friend. 

those things seem impossible now, and they are. my days now are only tied to the time of the insulin injections - 8:15a and 8:15p. When would i go to dnner with friends? maybe we’ll live like this forever, after all. 

the world is still there, that’s what’s so strange. you can still call front royal canoe and make a reservation. you can take a walk and realize that all these other people are going to work, at the hardware store, the drug store, the Target, the Harris Teeter. They’re doing construction or rescheduling appointments at the dentist’s office. 

The deeper we get into this , the more we see how much we really can let go of, how little we need, how much we can detach. Another world is possible, indeed. They’ve gutted mine. Essential services are Netflix, FedEx, and Amazon. It’s uncanny. If I were the paranoid type, I might truly believe I was just a character in someone’s play brimming with sympolism and cultural critique. 

I got my teeth cleaned yesterday. Tomorrow I’ll vote, go for a run. The weekend stretches before us, tied only with the 8-8 rhythm. We’ll take the cat back to the vet Tuesday only to sit down to a condensed week. In a normal life, I might’ve taken Tuesday off - carpe diem! - salute the summer, and all that would have laid before me. 

I’m losing steam here, but I mind doesn’t feel done. like i’ve got so much more. I do. I need to pray - to say thank you and I’m sorry. I need to remember what sacredness is, to recite beloved poems and words, to hear them reverberate in me. Prayer, I know, is what makes me a more understanding, deeper person. Ocean Vuyong said something to the effect of what i always think - just going for a walk is my prayer - and so i say now - my rage, my sorrow, my joy, my anxiety, these are all my prayers. when i notice the trees, when i smile at my beloved cat, when i see a friend, when i hear a siren, when i wail with anger at the unfathomable circumstances we find ourselves in - these are my prayers - these are the moments of my life .There are only sacred and desacrated places. 

God, we are all you. You are in every detail, in all creatures, in every moment. Help me to slow down, to notice. That’s what love is. 

God, help me. Be with us - let this thing end. 

My work, too, gets in my head, and i think - shouldn’t i be learning more? doing more? becoming an expert in something? picking up a craft? demonstrating my creative side? prepping for a marathon? mostly i eat, but we’ve gotten tired of cooking. I read some, but we watch tv more. i shower when i don’t need to and i order things online that ship to my house. we complain and we fight. we’re here alone, without Ellen, and we miss her. We’ll miss this big old house. what we had was so fleeting, but it was good. 

I feel like my time has not been enough. like i should have done more. at least for work - learning more, trying more, building more, doing PD, and reading all the articles. i can barely see one day ahead. 

still i build in so much crap into my life - i keep busy and i forget to call my mother. i think about moving and vacation and gardens and take out food. I think about my 5 year plan and what i should do with my furlough time and what my research interests are and if i should apply for my PhD, now, and do it remote? would that be worth it? also, how do you make virtual experiences worth it? I should be trying to do interesting teaching strategies. 

I think about Clem and cat diabetes and new make up tips because I look at the internet too much. I wonder if my hair is getting uglier (it is) and if i should volunteer/help/donate money/send notes. i try to be good, but sometmes i forget to try, and then i just stare at my computer screen, flicking between twitter and email and blogs and maybe halfheartedly thinking about work, but at least i should have gotten up if i wasnt going to do any work. and then we watch tv. sometimes that’s all it is. sometimes i do online yoga or we skype a friend. sometimes we take a walk, but there’s nowhere to go. sometimes there are so many after work hours but i don’t call anyone or read my book or anything. sometimes, we go to bed and wake up late the next day. 

i should :

do my geography /sociology degree

a library degree

my Jon Batiste collage

learn to sing and play the banjo

read dozens of books and journal what i learn, really hold them in my heart

pray and pray and pray and contemplate and remember Roger and remember the Zapatistas and remember that my spirituality makes me more interesting, that my soul craves that connection in it’s core, that my love for NYAPC is huge, the place where 9th graders learn that God has no gender and that creation care is a critical part of being Christian. That politics are informed by our faith and that’s why we march and feed the hungry and demand clean air and clean water and a habitable future. 

i’m rambling. i’m hungry. so is clem. i’m sad we’re moving but happy to find another place i’m worried about money but we have plenty. i’m tired but don’t know what i’d do anymore anyway, or how to begin again. 

but maybe this, to vow again, to write, to pray, to contemplate, to share, to record. days and times and habits, they slip away and we don’t notice. 

like when i used to try and make smoothies - that was for a few years, but i don’t do that anymore. or when we used to eat bread and olive oil, like we did in spain, but somehow we stopped. nothing actually is constant - you learn that. i’m 33 and i remember being 23 both like it was yesterday and like that probably wasnt even me, just a movie i watched. i’m nostalgic for yesterday and 10 years ago and i wouldn’t change a thing and i wish i could try something totally different. it’s a mess, this whole thing, and i should at least make something beaiutiful out of it. like Mary Oliver, who knew to be joy and light anyway. 

[librarieseverywhere]

The mornings

when the weather is nice, the slow mornings are kind of nice, maybe something i will miss. we eat breakfast late, and maybe i read or go for a run. Clem settles in on the couch for the day, after cuddling on one of our laps for a few minutes, kneading into a blanket. B reads his paper or his book while he eats cereal. we open the back door to let in more light. we make tea and coffee. we talk. we go slow, ease into the day. sometimes we just walk around the block or walk to a coffee shop. 

sometimes the days are so stressful or boring or anxiety inducing, so the sunlight and the premium breakfast foods we have (strawberries and creme fraiche, choclate pudding with chia seeds, croissants, bagels, fried eggs) but prolonging these mornings in our sweats is sort of sweet, in its way. 

[librarieseverywhere]

How did then become now? Pt 3

I’m sitting in a 16 passenger van with a group of people I’ve been traveling around Patagonia with. We have just completed an amazing two week adventure through Argentina and Chile, full of hikes, kayaking, and incredible vistas. We are headed back to the airport to catch our flights home. We’ve just crossed the border out of Chile and are now waiting, tensely, at the border back into Argentina. It is March 14th, and the WHO has declared a global pandemic, prompting Argentina to shut its borders to US citizens. I haven’t been in the US in a month, so presumably I am fine, but others in my group have. 

I am on the brink of an anxious meltdown. The night before I sobbed into the phone to my husband as the rest of the group made jokes about holing up in Uruguay until this thing was over. I could not get stuck here without him, and I could not spend one more day with this group. I was lonely and scared and ready to come home. The fact that this plan could be thwarted was immensely terrifying. I didn’t sleep the last 2 nights of our stay. 

Some people crack jokes in the van but eventually everyone quiets as we nervously watch our guide talk with the guides and hand over our passports. an hour passes. Finally, we get the news that we will be interviewed outside and permitted to pass with a police escort. Those of us who have not been in South America for 14 days will wear masks. I thought they looked so stupid in the masks and pitied them. another hour and a half later, and we are finally done with the interviews. I have to pee, I think everyone does, but we are not permitted to stop until we get to the airport. We have a police escort. 

The flight is from Esquel to Buenos Aires, and it is the only flight out for the whole day. We make it. The flight changes to fly into the international airport rather than the domestic one mid-flight. I wonder if this has to do with making sure we leave directly and don’t slip away into Buenos Aires. 

I find Kyle at the airport, he has decided to get out as well, and it was smart. They are closing the international airport the next day. It is packed with people. I get through relatively smoothly. We eat pizza and wait for our flights and talk about this insanity. I tell him I’d like to go to yoga on Monday and he tells me, “maybe wait a week, just to see how you feel” neither of us can imagine that there won’t be yoga classes in a week. 

I catch my flight, which is packed to the gills. The attendants seem harried. Some people are wearing masks. They still serve us meals, but we can’t bring on our water. I wonder if anyone in these crowds has coronavirus. I watch Fleabag in the middle of the night. 

In the morning, we land in Miami, and I slip through customs without a peep from anyone. I’ve been in South America, and the guard lets me through. I wait for my flight to DC. Again, I’m around so many people, and I wonder if they have the virus. The woman across the aisle from me is suffering some sort of back pain and won’t sit still in her seat. I’m so anxious to be home, and so exhausted. B is waiting for me in a zipcar and the trees outside the metro are already flowering and beautiful. it is March 15. 

We decide to eat tacos, and so we walk in and order and sit. There are other people inside. i don’t know this will be the last time. On the way we see Alex and Ellie and we chat, and we hug, and again,  I don’t know this will be the last time. 

Ellen and Lena come by the house, and Lena says she thinks this will be the last yoga class for awhile, or she’ll stop going for awhile anyway, and I say sure. But the next day, it’s true, and I only just barely make it to class, as they’ve limited it now to 5 people. 

These three days, march 14-March 16th are insane, world changing days where I have to rap my head around so much so quickly. 

[librarieseverywhere]

How did then become now? Pt 2

I’m in a gorgeous, sophisticated hotel room that I’m sharing with a near-stranger. The room is unbelievably nice, and has this gorgeous view over the mountains. I’m somewhere in Patagonian Chile, just a few kilometers from the Argentine border. We’d crossed this border into Chile not quite a week before. The light is intense, bright, beautiful. We had been prepared for drizzle and rain, but we’ve received glorious and abundant sunshine. It’s so wonderful that it is disconcerting. 

I receive a text from a friend, who is also travelling in Argentina. He says, “What do you think of all this? If you were me, would you go home?” I say, “what, really? This is hysteria! Plus, there are no cases in South America. If I were you, I’d stay here.” For me, I’m ready to go home. I’m by myself, travelling with a group of open, kind people who have been very kind to me (this all feels like a dream now), but still, my husband is in Washington, DC, and my cat and new job are there, too. I will be going home, coronavirus or not. 

[librarieseverywhere]

How did then become now? pt 1

I’m in the hotel lobby of our hotel in Mendoza, Argentina. It’s mid-afternoon, and the sun is bright and hot. We’d just driven from San Rafael, a three hour drive, with some winery stops along the way. The hotel is gorgeous, and makes the green grass shine. The trees surrounding the property provide shade over the drive way. A fast-talking Argentine young woman greets us. Though she’s smaller than me, she offers assistance with our bags. We carry them inside and began the paperwork for our stay. For the first time, the papers ask us: Where have you travelled in the last 14 days? We write down Montevideo, Buenos Aires, San Rafael. We haven’t been in the US in exactly two weeks. I’m surprised by this question - this has become a world-wide hysteria! 

The lobby has these gorgeous skylights and plenty of glass to see out on the sun-dappled gardens and grounds. A pool, surrounded by flowery shrubs, and some deck chairs are just across the sunny expanse of grass. 

Our answers don’t concern the woman, and she tells us about the dinner special and escorts us to our room. We are in the midst of the beginning of the primary season, and we are watching closely. Super Tuesday is days away. 

Our stay in San Rafael had been gorgeous, and I miss it already. Our drive less so, and the wineries, while nice, only made us tired. B’s back complained throughout the drive, and traffic intensified as we neared Mendoza. This is our last stay of our trip together - after three nights, B will head to the Mendoza airport to begin his journey home, and I will catch a bus to San Carlos de Bariloche. On his trip home, he will be given a mask and have his temperature taken, surely foreboding for what I was yet to experience, but what we chalked up to hysteria. 

[librarieseverywhere]

metaphor?

someday, i told B, i’m going to write an essay or short story about the pandemic and cat diabetes and it will be a metaphor for something - grief and uncertainty, maybe, new routines, and slowing way way down and the most basic care. inconvenience and heart ache. i’ll find it.

i also want to write about the bobby pins as a badge of love

[librarieseverywhere]

Acceptance

Wow, grief. I didn’t think I’d get here, but I think I’m here. I didn’t want to accept - I wanted to be uncomfortable, to not forget, to hold fiercely to the idea that all could be normal ASAP and that’s what I wanted most. 

But, I’ve been starting to look into the future again, and not be too scared. make plans for what this time is, now. 

This time is different, and hopefully something beautiful will emerge, but it will take more time than I wanted. So how to use this time differently? 

We’ve decided to look for a new apartment - maybe not move, but to look. We’ve also decided to talk with a realtor, etc, and get our paperwork in order for someday maybe buying that dream condo. 

I can read a big stack of books. I can do mutual aid - supporting local businesses with gift cards and online ordering. 

I can write. I can do my creative project. We can eat good food and enjoy the sunshine. 

We can save money for a time when we can use it. 

We can build in spiritual practices and healthy practices. We can take care of our cat, who needs consistent care right now. 

We can start looking into a lake house for the summer and we can plan a trip to Indy. 

We can try to make a difference politically with volunteering. I can move my body and be grateful and pray for those who are sick. 

I’m still thinking about how to be most creative and to remember this time in a way that was special. How did my life look different and how was that good? What ways can this be an opportunity to transform our culture and our communities to be more accessible, more inclusive, more walkable? More like the societies we actually want and deserve. 

I’m praying to be in the NIH study. I’m praying to figure out what to do about moving/not moving/finding a roommate who is perfect. 

I’m praying about what small businesses to support and what friends to fill me up and how to get to Indy and how to take care of sweet Clem who complains not at all about her shots, but jumps right up to sit in our laps after she eats, making it so easy to administer the shots. 

It is an opportunity that the diabetes appeared now, of all times. We have the time here at home without having to frantically build it into our schedule. 

I’m praying for Andrea and the cab driver and NYAPC and the Pub and Yoga District and healthcare workers and those who are sick and suffering and those who are isolated and scared and lonely. 

I’m fortunate to have washed on to the shores of a time and space for re-imagining the next few months - not what i’d wanted, but with a path forward. 

I felt like i’d moved into exactly what i’d wanted - flexible, meaningful work with some travel and a downtown location and good work/life balance. this has been a huge shake up for me in ways others have embraced it because they were overworked and just accepted they would be until they retired. 

i’m scattered today. i wanted to be focused, but i’m scattered. i’m thinking about vacation and moving and what to buy and where to donate and how to be creative and that i need to pray and write and stretch. How to be a good person and how to make this time special. 

[librarieseverywhere]

Giving everything away

Like Job. (from the Bible). 

Yesterday, they cancelled Doah fest. I knew they would. Part of me even wanted them to. But then I realized, I’m only getting older. I won’t go to any festivals this summer. It broke my heart all the things that I’m being robbed of this year. All my joy - festivals and concerts and being out and together with people. Being young, in some ways. If I don’t go to Doah this year, I won’t go to any festivals when I’m 33. It spiraled and I realized all the things I’ll miss this year, and how significant that is because I’ll never be this age, this young, again. 

It was one of those gloomy, rainy days, and Clem was at the vet all day doing her insulin. We got our stimulus checks and then we spent it all on insulin, blood and urine testing, and vet stays and appointments. 

I feel like I should do something noble or at least fun with my stimulus check - but it’s just going to get absorbed into my regular money. We could buy a TV - but we might move. Or I could donate a chunk of it - but I donate anyway. I could buy something else ridiculous  - but what? We’ve been trying to be generous all a long. and now we’ve got the costs of insulin and vet visits for our poor, diabetic cat. 

What a time. 

B was playing music this morning and it was beautiful, talented singer/songwriter stuff and I’m counting it as my prayer for today. I must seek more beauty. Music is a good place. 

Gayle and Richard are coming to sit outside with us. It’s gorgeous, though a bit chilly. i’m making myself a cocktail with a San Pelligrino soda I bought yesterday at Union Kitchen Grocery. (yes, we got the “blind dog” cookies. we eat cookies every day). 

[librarieseverywhere]

broken heart

still in quarantine, which they’re telling us to document. someone might want to know what we did during this horrible time, some day. 

B and I ordered take out last night from ABC Pony. The portions were incredible! We got a cheese board, a zucchini fritter (huge), garlic bread, and a lasagna, plus a cocktail and dessert. it was all good in the moment but made us both feel bad. I haven’t even eaten yet today. We have a bunch of leftovers, too, becaues the portions were huge, but i’m not really looking forward to it. 

i hosted a virtual mixer for LBB yesterday and it went very well and it was nice to see everyone and I’m so excited about this project. I’ve been doing 1-1s with all the libraries, too. Libraries are so kick ass. they are answering phones, printing and faxing materials, etc, figuring out how to support their communities during this insane time. 

clem is sick. She went to the vet yesterday and we are supposed to get test results today. she lost three pounds. because all the days blur together, we can’t pinpoint when she first started being sick - it could’ve been 2 weeks ago, or a month ago, or even longer. but we don’t know, because there’s nothing to hold it in time. Three pounds is a lot for a cat and I’m devastated. She threw up in the night, too. We’ve known her 3.5 years and she’s never thrown up. I start crying everytime i think about her. We think she is only 5.5 so she’s much too young to be so sick. She still eats ravenously. it just seems so all of a sudden. She was normal Clem and now she’s not. 

This weekend we were meant to be at Chris & Meredith’s wedding. The weather is supposed to be good, so we’re going to sit outside at their place for dinner tomorrow. 

I’m still questioning the purpose of quarantine at this point. It’s been too long. We can’t live like this forever, in fear and hiding. People want to take their chances and assume risks, but not all people. That’s the balance we need to strike. We need to protect people who are scared and vulnerable. 

I’m restless and bored and unmotivated. I miss the richness of my life. It wasn’t much, but it was full, it was mine. It had the basics for happiness, and I knew it and relished in it. 

The coronavirus is a real and devastating thing. We had no choice in the matter, but we do choose how to respond. We can make things safer for vulnerable people, but taking away peoples’ livlihoods, connections, and future hope is insane. The virus is outside of our control, it changes our plans. yes, to all that. but we can’t fear it, just like we wouldn’t want to live in fear of so much else that is out there to get us. 

The earth is not healing, either. We might be buying ourselves an ounce of time in terms of pollution, but not hardly - think of all the extra plastic production, for gloves, wrapped take out foods, etc. 

[librarieseverywhere]

Prayers

We think there might be something wrong with little Clem. She drinks a lot more water than usual, and then uses the litter box a lot more, really huge wet clumps. 

What the internet says about this isn’t great, so I’m scared. it’s not like asthma, even, which is scary, but treatable. 

Sweet, sweet Clem. She seems ok, otherwise, naps well and eats well. She’s been begging for food a lot lately, but that comes and goes with Clem. Sometimes she’s like that. She seems less spunky, but that comes and goes, too, and it makes sense she’d be sick of us since we’re home all day everyday. 

It’s all just hard to determine. B took her to the vet just now and it’s a rainy miserable day. She makes the house feel so cozy on days like this. 

I just want her to be ok. She’s not yet 6, or maybe she’s 6, but she coudln’t be any older than that and I wantd her to be with us another 10 years. we’re only just getting started on our life journey together. 

everything else sucks, too, FYI. the numbers are going up and there is no end in site. 

We’ve got a good dinner coming tonight, with a cocktail, and we’ve got a dinner with Chris and Mere this weekend. That’s what i’ve got to look forward to. probably anohter fight with my mother. work has been good this week. I made some real movement on the project. 

I went down to the mall yesterday morning, and ran, walked, stretched, and did handstands and backbends. it was fun. Beautiful and sunny and warm for once. I haven’t noticed how rainy it’s been lately because we haven’t had anywhere to go, but i guess we’ve had a lot of rain. 

prayers for all those impacted. prayers for my track running friend and my mother and people who are lonely. prayers for those who are sick and scared. prayers for my sweet cat who has taught me how to be content, how to be fully and totally myself, and thus be loved and be love, to give and receive love and affection generously. 

[librarieseverywhere]

i guess what irks me is that we want the wrong things.

we shouldn’t want more options to work from home - or to just work from home permanently - we should want constructive, nourishing work communities that also balance with our time off from work. We should ask for flexible work schedules. We should work in the communities in which we live so that our transit options are sustainable for our and our families’ lifestyles and for the environment. 

We certainly shouldn’t say that this is solid environmental policy, as we don’t want people to believe that so much rides on individual choices. 

It also further divides by class - some of us work from home on schedules we choose, and the working class have to commute in, get dressed in uniforms, and stick to a schedule. Some people have to choose where thye live so they can get to work and others can in theory be anywhere they like. 

It’s also like, do we really want to give people the option to be “digital nomads” - then they won’t invest in the communities in which they “work” (since they only virtually work there) or where they live. 

So, I’m frustrated by the shortsighted imaginations of people - it’s not about working from home - it’s about working less and closer to where you live. it’s not about cleaning the air by going less places - it’s about designing communities more intentionally around transit and walking. 

the infrastructure we have isn’t the limit of what’s possible. DREAM BIGGER. 

I think going to work is good for us, but it has to be done sustainably. I think we should ask for more out of our lives and out of our policies - they get to feel like they’re helping you not drive in but that’s not the goal. If you have less places to go, then you just pay the bills for the utilities and maintenance of your work space and you lose on interactions, community, collaboration, relationships. 

I think getting good environmental policy is essential, and that’s not just work from home -it’s don’t live so far from where you work ,and don’t drive a car there. 

ASK FOR MORE FROM YOUR LIFE AND YOUR ENVIRONS. 

And that’s just scratching the surface about what’s wrong with the dialogue around this. there is no silver lining to being in a global pandemic. there is no - use this as an opportunity to benefit yourself - i’m not relaxing, i’m riding out a pandemic, i’m grieving, i’m wondering what the future holds. i’m trying to cultivate healthy practices, but i miss my friends and my way of life. This is hell, plain and simple. and maybe the old way, our western “normal” wasn’t working, but this isn’t going to get us there, becaues the same people are in charge, but with more authoritarian leverage and a vast display of incompetence. there are no goals to this lockdown.  the system doesn’t work, but pressing pause in this moment isn’t going to get us there. it just keeps us apart, makes it harder to build movements, and designs a reliance on fear and coprorations. industry is still happening, thriving, even, but workers are not. and local public infrastructure and community suffers. the same people that were hurt by normal are going to be hurt by the new way. no societies see this as an opportunity to be more equitable. despite Bowser’s lip service, DC is in the pockets of developers, as evidenced by what is allowed to continue as essential (construction!). 

we know our leaders are not competent or trust worthy. we know they don’t have our interests in mind. this isn’t a pause, this is a last ditch attempt to keep this from careering off the rails. it’s beyond frustrating that we won’t learn from this, that voting doesn’t matter, that we can’t take note of this for future times, and that what is killed is what matters most. 

build your own normal and advocate for it, but don’t slow me down. i deeply grieve what i lost. i know flying every week is immoral and i know doing too much is insane, but i found my own balance, with my own agency, signing my life away to Trump and Bowser doesn’t seem wise. 

God, be with us all. 

[librarieseverywhere]

i’ve lost count

but today feels more positive than one would expect. more states are saying they are preparing to open. Italy is preparing to open. DC’s numbers were lower, but it could be a fluke. 

I’m tired of all the conversations, but I still get on twitter and every news outlet. I’m a glutton for punishment. 

I’ve had so many thoughts today that I wanted to write down, but didn’t get to it. I focused on the work, which one could be proud of! 

Praying for the future, trying to look at it more clearly and carefully and optimistically - what could still be there? what are they wrong about or over prepared for? What can be good in this time? 

[librarieseverywhere]

Which way is up?

I can’t determine. Some people want this to be our new normal, and I refuse. I bow out. We can be smart without giving up. Giving the virus this much time is already devastating. 

I know it’s not fun to have, and I know it is deadly, but giving in to the fear and hysteria is just insane. 

People that say we’ll now do everything online are just wrong. They are unhappy with their lives and looking at this time as a way forward for themselves. 

I had a big argument with my mother yesterday because she wanted to believe some theory that the Chinese people created this virus and spread it from a lab. She only wants to walk the party lines and talk about unemployment and that the deaths are no different than flu or pneumonia deaths. we got in a fight about media and whether or not you can trust it because she wouldn’t even name her source and asked me what news i read. 

On one hand, I agree. The bigger travesty is the long term hysteria we now face. It is far riskier that the government now knows they can order us all inside and give ourselves little to defend our livlihoods. 

On another hand, we have to respect the inequitable spread of deaths in our communities. Those that are vulnerable have already been marginalized by diabetes, poverty, and bad diet. They suffer the injustice and violence of our culture daily through environmental inequalities, racist policy, etc. That is alarming. 

On another hand, maybe they wouldn’t have let it get thsi far if it weren’t for technology. Or is the technology the only thing that makes this bearable and its actually inspiring and innovative how people want to reach out and “connect.” Maybe we wouldn’t know the depths of the problem if it weren’t for social media where we scroll and scroll and hear from strangers and our networks expand beyond people we would normally know. My mother is protected from that. She only knows the stories of those who call her on the phone or live in her community. She can’t know more, and maybe she has a clearer eye to see. Is that good, or is it bad? has it exacerbated the response to this?

Still, I’m disheartened to see how unwise she is about this. Has she learned nothing about community? She lived through some segregation, Vietnam, the HIV crisis, etc. She is not wealthy, but she is white. She didn’t learn compassion for those people living scared? She believes the lies that they wrought it on themselves? The right’s individualism shines through in a way that is almost refreshing - at least you know there are still values there, whether or not you agree with them. still, it seems for someone who loves God so much she has absorbed different truths than i have. 

Or am I wrong - does she have some lens that is clearer than the hysteria we all live in? Is there value to not being in the pool? 

It aggrieves me that public life and public infrastructure has been lost in all this, another reason i am skeptical of the response. How could it be that in times of crisis, one is benefited by their private amassing? I still believe in cities, density, and public infastructure - shared parks, tracks, tennis courts, pools, patios, libraries.  Membership based access to equipment  (ie, gyms). Who needs their own? 

I am surprised by my own critical eye to this, i don’t buy into the #stayhomesavelives is solidarity push. It makes me feel a bit selfish and egocentric and exceptional. it makes me feel like i value individualism more than i thought, or i guess in the last years i’ve been calling it “agency” and i hadn’t looked at it through this lens. I do value personal agency. highly. 

the government, of course, makes this all scarier and sadder. how can we do this in light of the incompetence? 

i try to look at everything through my same theoretical lens. i hope that makes it age better- my opinions on matters. if we apply the same critique, we’re at least consistent. 

today, it’s 9am. we’re attending church on zoom, then going out to the market and the grocery. i’m already angry - donald trump, joe biden, incompetence, and bad weather to boot. 

Elizabeth Warren should have been given a fighting chance. This would be her moment right now. 

for documentation purposes - we had the best dinner last night from Nina May. it was SOOOO good! will go back. 

[librarieseverywhere]

Still sad

Still sad whenever I read a headline that projects a timeline that means we don’t get to have anything normal this year - I’ve let go of so much. There won’t be summer movies in the park, or concerts in the park. There might not be concerts, at all. There won’t be festivals. 

Today, the headlines are saying that summer really may kill this thing, and I’m clinging to that, for now. I need a tiny bit of good news. 

Yesterday, we got caught up in some dumb drama with Tara and her roommates. They wanted to loop us in as part of the discussion on what/where/who/how are they handling the situation/safety precautions, etc. I immediately felt defensive and attacked, and wanted to just be like - this is your problem to deal with. B called Michael, though, and it turns out the poor guy has been suffering mad anxiety. It only takes a little bit to meet in the middle and try to understand people. 

Today I went straight to the computer to try and get things done - it hasn’t really worked, but I liked the approach anyway. 

I need to get away from screens, but life makes that hard. It’s funny, I’ve definitely been in touch with people differently than I would have if not for this - yesterday I zoomed with Heather, and I’ve been talking with Ruchi a lot, I talked with Lauren by phone for a long time, etc. People are still there, they still show up, and that feels good. But on the bad side, I look at twitter when I wake up, and I get scared and depressed and I read all the takes on how it’s not safe to open and really I think it is safe to open - I think it’s become so politicized that if you’re on the left you have to say you think it’s not safe to open, but we were all living like that for awhile and we didn’t know. a lot of people have died but with better testing we could live without fear. 

We can go outside, we can do most normal things with a few minor precautions, without getting and spreading this thing. This has all blown up in a strange way, and I think the hysteria itself has moved us to this point, more so than the disease. 

Trying to persevere and be positive and see the things that i CAN do at this time - and there is enough for a life: bike rides, runs, backyards with friends, good food. 

Soon there might be small vacation destinations (parks and beaches), there might be small parties. 

There is also, always, time for self and self-care, creative endeavors like art, taking pictures, there is kindness, compassion, and love - sending gifts, notes, and checking in with others. There is reading. There is cooking. There is being with the cat. These are not small, meaningless things. I must remember to practice kindness, prayer, meditation, and creativity. There is enough for me. I must practice that mantra, while I practice letting go, and letting go, and letting go some more. 

And still, I’m most fortunate in health and not knowing anyone who has died of the disease, alone. To say this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me is true. It is devastating. And yet, I have not lost my job or my health or a loved one. I have not lost my home. My suffering might pale, so in hindsight it might feel terrible to say it’s the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. But it is. I’ve lost so much. I continue to lose. And yet. My love is here with me. I am well. I experience sunshine and spring colors. I have money to give, and i try. Who needs it most in this terrible time? 

Can living in isolation really be the way to save us? Philosophically, theologically, socially, this seems wrong. If we didn’t have this technology to keep us connected, and to keep many of us employed, would we really want to /have chosen to isolate this much? Would there really be advocates saying that we must isolate to save ourselves? I rely so much on the kindness of others. That’s what the world has taught me. I fear what this period of pulling away will do for the progress we’ve made in non-discrimination, non-othering. People are now afraid of one another, when really, we should be offering more hugs, more high fives, more assistance with bags, more trading of items and shared materials. It’s horrible that this is teaching us not to share and to be afraid of contact. 

The world is messed up, and our leadership is terrifying, to the point i can’t think about it. Our systems are broken, which exacerbate teh pain we feel in this moment.