I’m feeling highly irritable today. My thinking mind wants to attribute what I’m feeling to the extremes of injustice and ineptitude to which I’m bearing witness every day in how my country is handling the pandemic. As I sit with how I’m feeling for a longer period of time, my body mind–the part of me that is aware of my physical state and rhythm–is conscious of signs that there are shifts in my hormone levels and how much my emotions tend to swing as a result. In my inner wisdom, I’m noticing how much I focus on analyzing the cause of my emotions as well as how to regulate them (mostly, how to turn them off).
What would happen if I let them be without intervention? Thinking mind worries that I would become consumed by them. Body mind feels like I might collapse under the weight of them. My wisdom instructs me that they would pass; they are ephemeral no matter how granite-like I perceive them to be. It is rare that I grant myself even this small clearing to acknowledge and give voice to what I’m feeling, much less to try less rather than more to do something about it. It feels like grace. What is your thinking mind focused on today? Your body mind? Your inner wisdom?
Today I am grateful that I have nothing to do and nowhere to be. Days like this can sometimes depress me, but today I’m feeling cozy and calm as I relax. The shift in everyday life in the pandemic has strongly impressed on me how much internal variation I have in mood, desire for socialization, body rhythms and pace. I am most stressed when there is a mismatch between what my body and mind need and what life requires of me. Everything is lining up for a day of lounging around and I am here for it. What’s your setting today? How well are your internal and external worlds lining up?
This week I’ve been contemplating the scope of the crisis people across the world and in my neighborhood are enduring, and I keep returning to one idea: the extent of the devastation that has, is and is likely to befall us, at least here in America, is too much to for my brain to digest. I don’t think that this means current events are inherently profoundly traumatizing to everyone who is experiencing them, but rather that the potential shifts and cracks that are forming are too wide and too deep to fully comprehend. Our society may be remade, for better or for worse, and I feel so small in bearing witness to it.
I’m putting some of my energy into staying present and into the practicalities of my own life and I’m also making space to listen to those who are most directly being impacted. These would include those in nursing homes, disabled people and PoC who are being disproportionately affected. I feel intense rage when I hear the “Karens” of the world b*tching about not being able to get their hair cut; being inconvenienced and being oppressed are fundamentally different experiences and I cannot with people who reject any suggestions that humble introspection and community effort might be necessary.
The future feels both bleak and uncertain. This is nothing new to me, but, in this instance, it is a collective outlook rather than an individual one. I’m returning every time my mind reaches a peak of anxiety to the idea that, when I reach the end of myself, acceptance is the only path left to trod. I will not deny my own reality and I will not fight a losing battle. I desire an embracing of grief that I do not know if I have in me, but the idea of remaining proud, dignified and whole no matter what I face or what I lose appeals to the core of who I am. This isn’t an avoidance of emotion but rather a “being with” myself in compassion at any cost.
I always thought autonomy was the most important and highest value I held, but I sense this is part of the shifting that is happening. Some of the events of our lives, our fate if you will, are outside of the scope of what we can predict, make sense of or affect. I do not yet know how to surrender control in situations in which I feel threatened by doing so, but I know acceptance of my fate, whatever it may be, is the most important commodity I can cultivate for these circumstances.
Because I’m spending all my time at home, my dog has relaxed into a routine of playing with his toys more frequently in the afternoon than he previously did. He will chase a ball briefly and loves to “kill” certain toys. I purchased two new ones for him and they were delivered today. Before I could even remove the tags, he stole a small fox plush with a squeaker and ran off in delight. He has been playing with it for hours now and is semi-seriously guarding it when I get near. The joy and excitement it has brought him is making me smile from ear to ear and was well worth the money spent. I also bought him a small bull plush toy and he is loving gnawing on its ears. It was hard to judge the size and feel of each toy through a computer screen, so I’m pleasantly surprised at how well they have been received. If you have a pet, what is its favorite toy?
Last year, back when going to a gardening center was a totally normal and not at all potentially life-threatening activity, I purchased and then planted five perennial flowers. I don’t know what type they are and three of them died within a few months. Two plants, the ones with white flowers, not only made it through the winter but are now bursting with new blooms. Their endurance and resurgence, coupled with the loss of the others, is a reminder that there is a seasonality to our lives that is not fully predictable. I still can’t fully discern what lines the boundary of gratitude and grief, of loss and life, but I’m sitting with awareness of it today. What symbolizes this edge for you?
I’m feeling quite down today and decided to draw some cards to see what Spirit had to say to me. The messages I received included that this is a time of darkness, which fits both the world at large and the fact that today is a New Moon and that opening to inner power will bring new understanding to my life. I don’t feel powerful because so much of the autonomy I’ve had has been reduced by the pandemic. I (as well as most people in the world today) have to think about safety and protection from harm every time I venture outside my house. I feel helpless in terms of securing my future financially and guilty every time I give into a “want.”
I can’t shake my dream I had last night. I am forever riding elevators in my dreams. Typically, they spin around and get stuck between floors and I can’t exit. In this latest dream, I started out several floors up in an opulent hotel. Eventually, I was able to exit what had turned into a service elevator to a gruesome sight of people dying and suffering. I interpreted this as bearing witness to both the external horror in which we are living as well as my own half-buried fears of a protracted death.
Perhaps that is what I’m holding onto–is it possible to surrender to the forces of nature and retain one’s power? Does physical suffering–walking in the shadows–hide from us the beauty of who we are or can we still see clearly? Is decay only misery and always misery? When it is unjust, meaning preventable, it is hard for me to see it as anything else, but what happens when it is inevitable? These are philosophical queries I would never want to ask anyone other than myself to contemplate, especially in the face of real loss and tragedy. Where meaning-making fails, there is human kindness and solidarity and that is abundance itself. What I will say is that I can see now that I’ve fully conflated autonomy and power as one and the same and I think now that they are both more vast and filled with uneven terrain than I thought possible.
My yard is currently teeming with dandelions. I live in a neighborhood where most people poison the weeds in their lawns into submission, so I feel both rebellious and a little chagrin at the overwhelming abundance I’ve managed to cultivate. They make me happy, though, because they only grow in large numbers in front of my house where the afternoon and evening sun are most abundant. My dog loves to eat the blossoms so we go dandelion-picking now and then. What natural abundance are you enjoying today?
I am feeling angry today and I don’t know what to do with my anger. First, I’ve struggled for years to empathize and relate to people in the Boomer generation. Both of my parents fit into this generation so it was always destined to be the one I would have the hardest time with, but seeing multiple neighbors and community members playing games with social distancing by forming what look like extended tailgates is setting me over the edge. We shut down our entire society in large part to protect this generation, and the “thanks” I am witnessing in return is an adolescent belief of invincibility. I cannot muster a lot of grace for someone who purposefully puts themselves in danger when they would seem to be at a place where they should have had enough life experience to know better.
To top it off, I took my dog to the park and finally found a large open space where we could walk without any chance (or so I thought) of running into another person. Right as we were making our way between reservoir areas, this absolute f*ckhead got out of his car and starting hitting golf balls in our direction of travel, effectively blocking off a vast area of land from us. The park was most definitely not a golf course. I had a lot of nasty thoughts go through my head because it seemed intentionally sadistic–“hey, here’s this person trying to enjoy a walk, let me ruin it!” He got in his car and drove away after I’d walked quite a distance across the parking lot in the other direction.
I am someone who wishes bad things on those who are intentionally cruel. I want them to suffer. On an intellectual level, I know that this is where grace is supposed to enter the picture, I’m supposed to think of the times I’ve been mean on purpose and therefore empathize with that sentiment. I can think of a few, but I generally try to lighten other people’s load in life, not to add to it. I make many mistakes and react with impatience, but I do not go out of my way to mess with someone trying to, for example, enjoy their day. I want justice for those who are victimized by the sadism of the powerful; I would go further and say I lust for it.
But, stepping back, I know my desires are too concrete and too rigid. They lack the nuance of awareness of the interwoven systems within our society. For example, idiotic leaders who tell their acolytes that social distancing is impinging on their “freedom” to get sick and die in service to America’s “economy” (aka the rich and powerful) are in part to blame for the poor decisions of some Boomers to treat the shelter-in-place as a joke. The idea that the thinly-veiled threat of violence cis white men can hold towards people like me who are queer (as well as those who are PoC, poor and so forth) is not limited to one human specimen who decided his “recreation” included obstructing my freedom of movement, but is embedded in the patriarchal, heterosexist white supremacy inherent in American society. I can acknowledge those truths intellectually, but I still wanted respond aggressively to the flaunting of privilege and ignorance I witnessed. Once I calm myself after episodes like this, it usually leads me to redouble my efforts at constructive change, but, if I’m being totally honest, I do truly savor the schadenfreude that results when the powerful get what’s coming to them.
I can be a bitter person but I generally don’t enjoy bitter foods. However, I cooked pork for the first time in months after receiving in a subscription meat box I ordered, and had a flash of inspiration that a honey-mustard sauce was needed. I only recently learned that the yellow in mustard is from the inside of the mustard seed, so I ground up some mustard seeds in my mortar and pestle and added vinegar, salt, honey, avocado oil and pepper flakes. I then emulsified the entire mixture in my blender and added it to my pork, spinach and rice dish.
The meal had an bitter flavor but it was a pleasing sharpness rather than a blunt bitterness that can overpower all the other flavors. I’m still amazed by the fact that the reason spicy mustard looks the way is does is because it made of crushed seeds. My mind never questioned why it looked the way it did before! What’s your latest culinary creation?
In a recent post, I shared about a really negative interaction I had a few days ago. Since then, I’ve been able to talk in person (at a safe social distance) as well as virtually with a few friends and acquaintances. I’m feeling a lot of gratitude for the social support I’ve received.
I’ve also given in to peer pressure and ordered a gaming device so that I will be able to play video games with my friends. I feel like even something as silly and lighthearted as inviting a friend to see my decorations in Animal Crossing might be what I need to make it through all of this. Is there someone in your life with whom you’d like to check in? How are you finding ways to connect despite the need for distance?