Saul Good and Co.

Good Grief

I'm having as hard a time as ever. Something fundamental inside me has been crushed and for once I can't seem to write my way out of it. It's not that I have an expectation of bliss every moment of the day, only that I know what my base level of human operation entails--the ability to access a positive outlook, for one--and honey, I ain't even close to there. This is my favorite time of year, and I feel like I'm faking it. I am Charlie Jesus Christing Brown and I don't mean that fondly. The point is, I have set the timer on my state of mind and if I can't pull myself out of it on my own by the time the buzzer rings, I will seek professional assistance. If this is life now, I am realistic about needing a little help adjusting to it. 

 

Thanksgiving was great. There were many moments of joy, because of my family, because of my kid and my niece and nephews and the unguarded lovely energy they radiate into the universe. And my calendar for the next six weeks is more like a treasure map, with many sparkly bits connecting the days. Even as I sit here looking at it, even as I'm sure I'll rise to the occasions, today I am struggling to pull myself up from swamp of dull, defeated futility. I've created a little mantra that goes:

 

Family and friends

Doing productive and thoughtful work

Yoga

Repeat.

It helps, when I remember to focus on it. I should add "avoid media" to that list, while I'm writing it down. Breaking out of inertia really helps, too, in however small a way I can do that. For example, supporting causes. Mike and I are generally charitable throughout the year, and I always give to my workplace and several organizations close to my heart such as Planned Parenthood. This year I'm expanding my reach a little too, for example, instead of giving a trinket or a bottle of wine I'm giving donations in my coworkers names to The Human Fund organizations that are of utmost importance right now such as the ACLU, Greater Boston Legal Services and Citizens Climate Lobby.  I'm not telling you this to brag or engage in "look at me" philanthropy - just showing one way to use my resources to speak for my values when I feel otherwise powerless. It's not enough to do just that, but it's what I'm doing right now, and all the better to be writing about it on #givingtuesday. 

It's not like I have an extensive following no matter what I try, but I do have this voice, this platform, that reaches some people, and I feel responsible for maximizing its role in shaping the world I want to live in. Sometimes it's boring or frustrating and readers won't always agree with me and maybe I'll lose some followers and you know, I will take that chance. 

 

Anyway. Please give, if you can. 

 

TG Break

Thanksgiving week is historically my favorite week of the year, and guess what: it's shaping up to continue in that vein. I really wasn't sure I'd be able to pull it together, mentally, and allow myself to feel excited and into it, if I could even access that part of me at all. Then there was a light covering of snow on the ground this morning and Mike and I did the bulk of our shopping together after dropping the boy at school and my menu is all put together and now I feel good. I just feel good. It helps that I made a concerted effort to cut way back on all media this weekend, so I didn't let myself get hammered by news, and I spent time with my cousin and her newborn (who is actually an infant now, I can't believe it took me so long to see him) which was the best thing to do because babies are magic. Oh and I turned 42 since the last time I wrote in here, and I find that birthdays are always an occasion for solid introspection as well as a reminder of how much love I've got in my corner (MUCH, for the record). 

The bullshit of the world is not going away, and I don't actually want to strap on my blinders and call it settled for a serious length of time, but for Thanksgiving week, I'm gathering all my resources and draping them around me like an enchanted cloak. Gobble freaking gobble. 

The Rest is Commentary

Two things happened last night: 1) I started watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and I realized after the episode was done that I had been able to totally relax and invest my attention for the duration of the show. It's really good, but more to the point, I was finally able to unclench, let go of my ever-present rage in a way I haven't for some time and, 2) I read this quote, attributed to Rabbi Joel Simonds:

Today marks the seventh day of grieving and sitting Shivah for the loss of our country and the woman who inspired us. As Judaism teaches us, after seven days of Shivah we stand up, we emerge from the dark, we do not have to accept, we do not have to move on, but we stand up! So today we emerge from the darkness. We are taught that the righteous do not complain of the darkness but rather create light. Today we begin to create light and we do so as the resistance and we fight and fight and fight for good, for love and for justice. 

I'm not religious, but there are certain tenets of every religion that just make sense, and reading this really helped me articulate my state of mind. I'm not ready to get over anything as it were, but I'm ready to move forward. I've been in such a fog of despair and anger and disbelief that I haven't even had the heart to look forward to Thanksgiving. If you've known me for a second you know that I begin looking forward to the next Thanksgiving while I'm still at the table eating stuffing. This year I couldn't even fathom it. Because of recent events, overall,  I haven't been able to find myself. Today begins my reclamation.

I vow to remain vigilant. I will react to every fresh torrent of outrage and speak up and act and if you come after my civil rights and the rights of the planet, I will come back at you hard. I don't have to accept this as a new world order. This is not normal, and this is not politics. This is the future of humanity under attack, and humanity is worth the fight. But I am able now, after a healthy mourning period, to reconcile my utter heartbreak and unspeakable anger with the meat of my personal life. I feel ok again about resuming my gratitude-based outlook, and about gravitating toward joy and beauty. To seek out and create light in the darkness. I'm starting to get very excited about the prospect of having my family at my table next week. I know, rationally, that I can host conflicting emotions. All these people exist in one me, but it took me until this morning to really know it again. Life goes on, and it's a different life for me in the way that any trauma can cause permanent change. But it's still my life at its core, and I'm ready to feel good again about living it. This article was also very inspiring, I suggest checking it out. 

This morning, because I've been feeling beat up physically as well as mentally, I chose a restorative yoga class, one I don't normally take because it's not a workout. It's something else though, something maybe more important for the body and soul,  like a nap and a massage and a hug rolled into one, I would recommend it for any person on the planet. I honestly don't know why I don't make more of an effort to prioritize this type of class. Taking it today felt like essential self-care. I see my activism as self-care as well, because I couldn't be content if I didn't do something. If this recent cycle has shown me nothing else, it's that I have the makings for my best self. Every day's a new adventure in getting it to come together. Here's to getting it to come together more days than not. 

Or, The Children's Crusade

My favorite necklace is a pendant that reads, "So it goes." Many of you recognize it as the refrain from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, and I keep it close to my heart as a mantra and a reminder. Life is so horrifying in so many ways, and you have to persevere in spite of it. Kurt would know, as he collected the dead in WWII Germany and lived to tell that tale and so many others, in his way. He is hero of mine, a shining beacon of secular humanism. Kurt is close to my heart, as is the sentiment in all its forms. Survive. Find a way. Tell the tale. Remember the past and do better.

After nearly a week of screaming into the void, I woke up this morning and clothed my ugly gnarled thoughts in a pretty dress and put on my favorite necklace, with purpose. I came to the office where I choose to work, in an industry that exists solely to help people. I feel good about what I do and how I live my life. But the truth is, that alone is not enough. 

The truth is, I'm not ok and I won't be for a long time, if ever. There are a million reasons, but to give an example, as one of his first acts as president-elect, our nation's presumptive leader appointed a known white supremacist as a key member of his cabinet. If there is a bigger FUCK YOU to those being implored to give this administration a chance, I couldn't fathom it, though I'm sure it's coming. I am fueled by indignation. Lit up by it. Can you see me from where you are? I am SHIMMERING. And I cannot in good conscience deny this explosiveness. It must be channeled and put to good use. 

The truth is, I had a lovely weekend with my family, commiserating and laughing and enjoying my beautiful, amazing nephew and eating good food and trying to shut out everything else and focus on just that, just them. If I have my family, I have everything. They are my everything. Along with that,  there is good art in the world. And there is catharsis. And there are small everyday joys to be uncovered. I recognize that as one of the least marginalized people in a long list of the marginalized, I could get away with going about my business and justifying my general goodness and going (relatively) unscathed. But  even if I could, even if it were possible for me to take that for what it is and engage in that level of escapism for my own sanity, I can't do it. It's not productive and it's not right. It's the equivalent of hoarding life preservers near a sinking ship. 

The truth is, the one thing that should unite us all, something we can all relate to, is the love for our children and our desire to make a better world for them. The truth is, we are failing so spectacularly right now. I refuse to accept or add to that failure.  Look at the future. For my kids, your kids, their kids. Ours. Look hard. My necklace, my talisman, has no power here. I can't accept and can't let go. They are the number one reason why.

Smash It Up

I'm not OK, but I'm getting there. 

Words, lots of words, all up in my brain every second, but I'm not ready to corral them and serve them up for public consumption just yet. 

Going up to love on my family this weekend, which is, as always, my best recourse and reason for living. 

Steady. Hold on. Things are going to get bananas. We're going to take all that we know now and use it as ammunition. It's going to be work, and it's going to be beautiful. 

I love you and bye.

 

Election Eve Blues

My distress surrounding the election has manifested itself physically. So, like, I may be having a heart attack, or I'm just severely emotionally stressed out. The symptoms are all the same. I'll let you know when I figure it out for sure. One thing I'm trying to do (and not trying nearly hard enough - but I know it's something I SHOULD be doing) is to cut back on all news and social media. It's not good for me to keep reading everything in the endless reporting cycle, and there's nothing I can do about anything now beyond getting my vote in. It's just so damned hard to stay away, it's really hard when you're so invested.

Yesterday in the grocery store, the patron next to me said to the cashier, "I don't give a shit about either of them. Whoever wins ain't gonna affect me." Obvs he was a white male. It must be nice to feel so teflon.  I care very, very, very deeply not only about how the outcome affects me and my family but EVERYBODY's family. How can you not? I have to rely on my hope and faith in humanity that more people care about the greater good and progress and decency than the single issue created by fear and prejudice. It remains a struggle, but I can't let myself be pummeled by doubt, not before I know for sure that I have a reason to. I'm going to keep a lid on this space until after tomorrow, and there won't be any mystery surrounding how I'll be feeling then. 

Oh democracy, whatever will become of me? 

Calling Out

Feminist book club time! Look, I don't need another book to add to my roster. I really really don't. I'm currently leisurely working my way through All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, as well as Hide by Rob Bonney (don't miss this up-and-coming-author) and deciding whether or not to abandon Bret Easton Ellis's Glamorama, which was perfect for the plane ride, poolside and beach on vacation, but doesn't apply to the real world. I've also temporarily abandoned The Unbearable Lightness of Being and The Wolves of the Calla, which I always eventually resume, but they are the first to get the short shrift when a hot title comes up in my e-library queue. I love getting e-books through the library, but sometimes I don't get to them fast enough and now I find myself having to re-borrow The Story of a New Name and Sweetbitter in order to finish their second halves, and that feels rude. Rude to me, and rude to books. That said, I admit I'm callous book reader, I'm subject to whim, I have no qualms about pushing things aside for a shinier prospect. Your mama warned you about people like me. But books, I really do love you. I only jump around because there are so many of you and so little of me (and time). And bless you, you're always there for me, waiting, forgiving. Also you can't talk or listen, so why am I writing this?

Still--STILL--I'm about to implore my friends and readers for some titles again, this time with a specific bent. I read tons of feminist lit, but while I adore Jessica Valenti and Lindy West and Rebecca Solnit, it's glaringly obvious to me that I'm lacking in intersectionality. The youngish middle class cisgender white feminist voice is overrepresented in my library, and I need to fix that. So if any of you beautiful reader-type perpl have some ideas for me, please add to my stack. I can't promise I'll be any less neglectful of the feelings of these books, stopping and starting as I please, but I almost always get around to completing everything (it's on record that I did eventually finish Jonathan Strange, and in just over a decade, too) and it's important to me that I break out of what amounts to a mirror-filled room.  It's not exactly in the spirit of the election of our first Madam President (I refuse to entertain an alternative outcome next week), but I want to make a better effort to educate myself and celebrate and honor the female experience in all its complex forms and meanings and if that coincides with HRC moving back into the WH, all the better. 

In other news, Halloween was last night, and Catboy had the best one of his life. 

Happy November (who doesn't love November?), and thanks in advance.