4/3/20

I haven't had much to say over here. Life feels sort of like it's all blending into one day. It's not the worst. In fact, as I read horrifying stories about what's happening all over, and see cases increasing, and worry about what is to come, I know that I am lucky. My job and pay are stable, I have a cozy home, and I have everything I need. I don't have to risk my safety for anything, really, and that feels like an immeasurable gift at this time in life.

This time has brought to mind the silent meditation retreat I did a few years ago. I went to do eleven days of totally silent vipassana meditation as an extension of my yoga practice. When I say silent, I mean fully silent: no distractions. No reading or writing, no eye contact, no exercise, no anything. Meals were even fully provided with no efforts from me, in hopes of allowing participants to simply focus on their meditation.

At first, when I arrived, it felt novel and special, but then, it felt exceedingly hard. I couldn't think about my nephew or my cat or anyone else that I was desperately missing because it felt so sad and hard. I knew that what I was doing would benefit me, but there were moments when things felt impossibly hard and I cursed my decision to be there. I was deeply lonely. I felt trapped with my own thoughts and like I had no resources or ability to survive that time period without help, communication, and support.

A few days before I left, my perspective shifted. I realized how indulgent this time really was: I was being fully fed and cared for, and given space to focus on my meditation practice. I felt taken care of, and grateful. I realized that I had more than enough within me to sustain me. I could be my own ally and my own team.

Thankfully, during this time, I can talk (probably too much), read, write, and do but the thing that remains is my ability to trust that I can do hard things and be my own ally. The "hard things" we are asked to be doing are truly NOTHING in the grand scheme of what is being asked of healthcare workers, nurses and doctors, grocery store clerks, and other folks. Whenever I start to feel slightly sorry for myself, I remind myself that I am one of the luckiest of the lucky.

I hope you and yours are hanging in there too.

3/24/20

Hello. It's been quiet over here, as I imagine it's been for most of you. Work and life feel so uncertain, and I am trying hard just to keep on a normal-ish routine. We have family coffee most mornings. I ride the Peloton for a bit. Then, it's on to work. I miss kids and going to my classroom. I miss seeing people and normal interactions and going out for dinner and grabbing coffee. Yesterday, I walked to my neighborhood coffee shop because I will be devastated if they close down, and I got so nostalgic for all the afternoons I've spent writing at their tables.

Everything feels so weird.

Since I clearly have nothing exciting to say, here are some other things you should read:

I'm reviewing and writing about every episode of Law and Order: SVU. You can sign up and it'll come to your inbox every day. 

In further self-promotion, I'll be on this comedy show tomorrow night at 6 PM PST.

The Discomfort You're Feeling Is Grief. 

This feels very true for me right now and it's not easy. I'm not bingeing but rather feeling anxious about staying "healthy" enough and eating the "right" things.

I found this Sarah Cooper article helpful and inspiring. 

The brilliant-as-always Shannon Reed for McSweeney's. 

I made this over the weekend and it's AMAZING. Recommend.

The rest of the time, this has been my view.

It's not the worst.

3/18/20

Today is day...whatever of social distancing and basically being in quarantine. I did have to leave yesterday to go to my classroom to get some things and went for a drive. I've long been a fan of a long drive, but right now, it feels especially essential to get out of the house for a drive.

In truth, I've been doing okay for the most part. I have been trying to get in some sort of a routine. If you know me, you know I love routine. So far, it's been: wake up, make coffee, hop on the Peloton for a ride, eat breakfast, teach my morning session, walk the dogs, teach again, make a Real Dinner (last night it was this delicious creamy cauliflower pasta; tonight, it's going to be homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese as I think comfort food is needed at the moment). I'm probably going to take a hot bath with a book later, too, which is one of the most comforting things on earth to me at any time.

I had a lot of emotions today, namely because I woke up to some truly horrid hate mail about what happened to me at my old school district. Every few months, someone new re-discovers my story and sends me a nasty note. Today's was especially bad and it was a rough start to the morning. Most days, I can shake it off quickly and move on into teaching or a comedy show or whatever else I have to do. It feels a little harder to escape without so many good and positive things to focus on. I know it's a small thing, and whoever wrote it is a small-minded idiot and all the other things I can say to myself, but also: why now? What kind of monster uses time during one of the most stressful things anyone has endured to send such poison into the world? It's ugly.

But mostly, today was sobering as I talked with my vice principal about things we need to accomplish for the start of school next fall, which feels so far away and that I hope will actually come more quickly than it feels now. I didn't feel emotional about getting work done, but mostly because we talked about a few students I care about a lot who are at home and in situations that I cannot guarantee are safe. Being a teacher is so much more than just delivering content -- there are so many emotional needs and things to take care of, and being away from kids during a time like this is hard. Whether my students love or hate school in general or my class specifically, it is routine and regular and they know what to expect.

I've watched several friends express very real fears over income, over what will happen to their families, to their bills, to their lives. Quite honestly, I don't think the disease has hit super hard here yet, and I worry about the weeks to come: what happens when folks I know contract the disease or we begin to lose people we know or they begin to? It's terrifying and sad. I feel like we are waiting to board a terrifying roller coaster, but one that has no certain end time.

There is so much unknown. A friend of mine mentioned on one of the nine million Marco Polo conversations we have had that for the most part, when our brains know what to expect, we can adjust to just about anything, no matter how challenging. It's the uncertainty that gets us every time -- it's that which makes our brains feel unsteady, and that is what creates anxiety.

So for now, I'm trying to make as much of the unknown a known quantity. Routine, movement, the unending love of my dogs, writing, breathing, good food, trying to create a new normal in my classroom, and patience for all, even jerks who send hateful emails late at night to people they don't know.

Oh, and of course, flowers. A few shots from my neighborhood:

I hope things are well in your corner of the world.

Quarantined

It feels kind of surreal to be in these times. It is March 2020, and we are quarantined due to the COVID-19 virus. I keep reading about how historians are encouraging folks to keep records of what is happening during this time because these times are unprecedented, and someday, we will want to look back. 

For years now, I've wanted to bring back old school blogging. I started blogging in 2003 on MySpace, and then moved on to Blogger in 2005. I was connected to all sorts of women all over the world -- artists, painters, writers, etc. and I remember it as one of the fondest times of my life. There was no sponsored content or deep thoughts or trying to build a personal brand. I was a young 20-something just talking about my life. A few years in, I started blogging with intent and sponsored posts and trying to be A Brand, instead of just being me, and saving the more personal stories for my own journals and such, convinced that my life could be used to make money. I also wrote a lot of bad poems and made some ugly art and did a lot of things without feeling self-conscious because these women were doing it alongside of me and there was an earnestness to it without fear of everyone seeing. 

I miss it. I've been thinking a lot about those times in my life and how things felt simpler and more fun and more genuine. I would rather cut off my arms than be in my early 20's again, but I do miss the innocence with which I made things, wrote stories, and did things. I miss feeling connected and doing things slowly and without intent beyond just doing them. 

This time is weird. I miss my people. I miss my students. I miss my friends and my family but I also feel extremely grateful and lucky to be in the position I am in. I work at a job that is going to pay me and continue benefits. So does my spouse. We live in an extremely cozy home with two dogs. We have food and cooking is one of my favorite things to do. I have approximately nine million books to read. I am in good health. We have a pretty neighborhood to walk in and a Peloton to move my body on, plus countless online options due to our Internet connection. My friends have been using Marco Polo and holding virtual happy hours. It feels weird, yes, but also special. 

I've spent the last two and a half years working towards a career in stand-up comedy. It has meant that most of my evenings have been spent out and about at open mics and shows. I've driven to San Francisco/Oakland many evenings. While I am terrified about what this means for me moving forward in terms of a huge goal, I am oddly grateful to have a break to be home. To stop the grind. It doesn't mean that I don't love it or care or want to work hard, it simply means that I recognize the benefit of a break. I miss the stage of course but right now, this feels like good and important work. To keep others safe. To find joy in what is. To be okay being at home and in the minute-to-minute life. 

Here are a few glimpses of what I've been up to:

Hank is living for quarantine. Both moms home, with open laps? That's a win for him. He hasn't stopped touching me. 

Some friends and I did a virtual happy hour and it was lovely. More of this please.

I made my friend Joy's recipe for Doing The Most Chocolate Chip Cookies and have been baking only a few per day for maximum Quarantine Joy.

Olive is happily napping. 

I plan to keep writing here. I have some books of writing prompts that have sat on my shelf, unused. I have a lot of weird stories to tell. I plan to document what daily quarantine life is like. And mostly, I hope to connect with other folks who are stuck at home too. This feels like a great equalizer in some ways: no personal branding, no products to hawk, no sponsored posts or trips. It feels like a kinder, smaller time on the Internet, and I for one am here for it. 

Sending you love wherever you're at in this space and time.