Today ends my month of blogging every day about things for which I am grateful. And today I hit all the big ones that were so obvious I didn't mention them before now.
I'm thankful that I have never had to sleep on the street (especially in the very cold weather like now or the very hot weather we had earlier this year, or the rain or the snow or...yeah just at all).
I'm thankful for having enough to eat and plenty of clean water to drink.
I'm
thankful I have access to health care (and, even though my health
insurance still leaves a lot of the responsibility on my shoulders if
something catastrophic happens, I'm thankful that I've got it).
I'm thankful that I live in a country where I don't have to be afraid to walk down the streets by myself or simply be afraid for being who I am. I'm thankful that I don't live in a place where bombs exploding or public stonings are somewhat normal.
I'm thankful I've never had to live through a major hurricane or earthquake, a monsoon, a tornado. I'm thankful I've never had to watch a neighbor starve to death or die from an easily curable disease.
And some of these things are due to my own choices and actions and hard work. But a lot of them are just sheer dumb luck about where I was born and when I was born and opportunities that I've been able to exploit to my advantage.
Today and every day I am thankful for all of this.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Days like this
I'm still reeling from the dream from two nights ago. It's what shut me down today, kept me in pajamas, reading, barely leaving the couch except to go to the bathroom and not eat or drink enough, not bothering to brush my hair or teeth, all day. It's what kept me from tackling the very long and detailed list of things I had to do today (really, had to do in some cases, including a couple of things that need to be accomplished during regular business hours, so today was the perfect time to do it).
No, all I did today was sink deep into myself and read.
And now that I've finished the book I was reading (the 41st of this year), I'm going to sit and watch movies.
Today, while making myself some dinner, I found myself a little teary-eyed. I'm not even sure why. It's a very rare occurrence for me (crying in general, but especially the not knowing why part). And then I thought about how I still needed to write about being thankful today. I couldn't think of one specific thing, and it made me feel like a failure. I have an overall sense of thankfulness, and I've written about gratitude for 28 days in a row. Isn't that enough?
But as I settled in to watch the first movie, I thought about how days like these come and go. Sometimes they hang around for a while. Other times they don't. But the thing I'm grateful for today is that they do go away. Days like these are not the norm for me. I'm thankful that even though I feel broken and small and very, very alone, in the back of my mind and heart, there is gratitude. And generally, there is contentment. And peace (something that, four years ago, I never dreamed would be possible for me again).
Today may be a bad day, but maybe there need to be bad days in order to fully appreciate the good ones.
No, all I did today was sink deep into myself and read.
And now that I've finished the book I was reading (the 41st of this year), I'm going to sit and watch movies.
Today, while making myself some dinner, I found myself a little teary-eyed. I'm not even sure why. It's a very rare occurrence for me (crying in general, but especially the not knowing why part). And then I thought about how I still needed to write about being thankful today. I couldn't think of one specific thing, and it made me feel like a failure. I have an overall sense of thankfulness, and I've written about gratitude for 28 days in a row. Isn't that enough?
But as I settled in to watch the first movie, I thought about how days like these come and go. Sometimes they hang around for a while. Other times they don't. But the thing I'm grateful for today is that they do go away. Days like these are not the norm for me. I'm thankful that even though I feel broken and small and very, very alone, in the back of my mind and heart, there is gratitude. And generally, there is contentment. And peace (something that, four years ago, I never dreamed would be possible for me again).
Today may be a bad day, but maybe there need to be bad days in order to fully appreciate the good ones.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
This strange but beautiful little life
Last night I had one of those dreams that stays with you for a couple days. The kind that exploits every insecurity and fear and makes you wake up feeling small and broken.
Except that today is also the national day of being grateful, and I had dinner plans with a good friend. So, I tried to set aside the feelings of brokenness and smallness and just enjoy small things today (good music for the long drive there and back, incredibly good food and good company, watching parts of some of the early Harry Potter movies while we prepped and ate....).
Any time I feel overwhelmed or sad or lost, I remind myself of this quote from The Cancer Journals by Audre Lorde: "I would never have chosen this path, but I am very glad to be who I am, here."
And it's true. And on this Thanksgiving, I am grateful to feel that way and grateful for all the people and experiences who make me who I am, here.
Except that today is also the national day of being grateful, and I had dinner plans with a good friend. So, I tried to set aside the feelings of brokenness and smallness and just enjoy small things today (good music for the long drive there and back, incredibly good food and good company, watching parts of some of the early Harry Potter movies while we prepped and ate....).
Any time I feel overwhelmed or sad or lost, I remind myself of this quote from The Cancer Journals by Audre Lorde: "I would never have chosen this path, but I am very glad to be who I am, here."
And it's true. And on this Thanksgiving, I am grateful to feel that way and grateful for all the people and experiences who make me who I am, here.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Kitty snuggles
A derby friend is cat-sitting another derby friend's cats this week, and she set up a Facebook page to allay any pet anxiety. It's hilarious. (In fact, the kitty sitter writes cat voice better than anyone I've seen on the Internet.)
I'm more of a dog person, so I guess it works out well that my cat thinks he's a dog. He likes to play fetch. He likes to lick me. He doesn't typically carry himself in that aloof way that cats do.
For most of his life, Emmett has chosen to spend his nights sleeping on the couch, in the bathroom, or on the porch. He didn't like being on the bed while I slept because I'm an incredibly restless sleeper, and he doesn't like to have to move.
But, in the last few months, he's started to mind less. He curls up with me when I go to bed, and many mornings I wake to find him still in or around the place he was when I fell asleep.
It's an incredible comfort to feel his warm, purring body by my feet or near my head while I'm sleeping. And the last couple of days he's been curling up alongside me. I don't know why he suddenly wants to be near me when I'm sleeping, but I do know it helps with both my insomnia and my restlessness. And it's awfully damn adorable.
I just hope this doesn't mean I'm turning into some crazy cat lady.
I'm more of a dog person, so I guess it works out well that my cat thinks he's a dog. He likes to play fetch. He likes to lick me. He doesn't typically carry himself in that aloof way that cats do.
For most of his life, Emmett has chosen to spend his nights sleeping on the couch, in the bathroom, or on the porch. He didn't like being on the bed while I slept because I'm an incredibly restless sleeper, and he doesn't like to have to move.
But, in the last few months, he's started to mind less. He curls up with me when I go to bed, and many mornings I wake to find him still in or around the place he was when I fell asleep.
It's an incredible comfort to feel his warm, purring body by my feet or near my head while I'm sleeping. And the last couple of days he's been curling up alongside me. I don't know why he suddenly wants to be near me when I'm sleeping, but I do know it helps with both my insomnia and my restlessness. And it's awfully damn adorable.
I just hope this doesn't mean I'm turning into some crazy cat lady.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Deep breaths
Last night as I was going to bed, I made a choice to NOT pick up a book and read (a rare choice, and almost always one that is best for me, because I really don't get nearly enough sleep and I can stay up hours and hours and hours past my bedtime if I'm reading a good book). I settled in and I let out a big sigh and I thought about how I was thankful for small moments like that -- feeling comfortable and content and being able to take a good, deep breath.
Self-care has always been a challenge for me. And I'm still not great at it. But there are times when I remember that I need to be good to myself (eat right, get enough sleep, just be a little kind for crying out loud) if I'm going to be of use to anyone else. I often think I could do more, be more. That I'm lazy. That I'm selfish. That I'm way too introverted.
All of those things are true to some extent (as they probably are for almost everyone, to some extent). But the thing I need to remember is that I can't do or be more to anyone if I am not good to myself first. After all, when I don't get enough sleep, I get cranky and quiet. When I do too much, I get rundown and either get sick or get very easily irritated and quiet. When I get too quiet, people who care about me worry.
So, I am much more able to do good and kind things for others if I am good and kind to myself.
It's still a work in progress for me. (And it takes A LOT of work.) But I'm thankful that I'm finally getting it.
Self-care has always been a challenge for me. And I'm still not great at it. But there are times when I remember that I need to be good to myself (eat right, get enough sleep, just be a little kind for crying out loud) if I'm going to be of use to anyone else. I often think I could do more, be more. That I'm lazy. That I'm selfish. That I'm way too introverted.
All of those things are true to some extent (as they probably are for almost everyone, to some extent). But the thing I need to remember is that I can't do or be more to anyone if I am not good to myself first. After all, when I don't get enough sleep, I get cranky and quiet. When I do too much, I get rundown and either get sick or get very easily irritated and quiet. When I get too quiet, people who care about me worry.
So, I am much more able to do good and kind things for others if I am good and kind to myself.
It's still a work in progress for me. (And it takes A LOT of work.) But I'm thankful that I'm finally getting it.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Writing
Years ago, my MFA mentor Suzanne said, "Writing is such a blessing to have in your life." I wrote it down, and I've never forgotten it.
It's true.
(It can also be a curse, like when you're trying to sleep and the people in your head WON'T SHUT UP. Or when they DO shut up and you can't convince them to talk to you until they want to.)
Last November, I set out on a mission to write every day until I'd finished the book I was writing AND it's sequel. I wrote for 240 consecutive days. I wrote the first draft of what is probably the best thing I've ever written in the last 165 of those days.
And then I promptly put them away. I needed space. I needed time. I needed distance. (Why couldn't Doctor Who come scoop me up in his TARDIS?)
In August, feeling a little reenergized after a conversation with a friend, I started (finally) editing the first book. I got it out to some beta readers. Some of them have given me helpful feedback. Everyone who has read it has said overwhelmingly positive things (which kind of freaks me out, but that's a whole other conversation).
And then I stopped. That second book that I'd worked so tirelessly on and then dropped was really hard for me to read. Really, really hard. (It's not my story, but enough of it mirrors my own grieving process that it will probably ALWAYS be hard for me to read.)
And then came November. I decided to edit a chapter a day, since I wasn't going to be writing every day. And then I read the last three chapters and epilogue in one day. I finished early. I didn't know what to do. So, I (coincidentally) met with my writing partner. I sat on it for a couple of days.
Yesterday, I went back into that second book. I think I figured out how to fix the one glaring thing that bothered both my writing partner and me. And now...it's ready. It's ready for other people to read it. I sent it out to the first couple of beta readers.
And now we wait.
It seems fitting to me that I should reach this point in November.
The last several years, November has come to be such a fun time for me. Not just writing every day, but sharing that with my friends. With our code names. With our wacky rules about task masters and write-a-thons. (I miss that this year, more than I expected to.)
So, today I am thankful to have the blessing of writing in my life. I'm thankful to be in this place right now with this pair of books. I'm thankful for my writing partners and beta readers, who are helping me make these books the best they can be.
It's true.
(It can also be a curse, like when you're trying to sleep and the people in your head WON'T SHUT UP. Or when they DO shut up and you can't convince them to talk to you until they want to.)
Last November, I set out on a mission to write every day until I'd finished the book I was writing AND it's sequel. I wrote for 240 consecutive days. I wrote the first draft of what is probably the best thing I've ever written in the last 165 of those days.
And then I promptly put them away. I needed space. I needed time. I needed distance. (Why couldn't Doctor Who come scoop me up in his TARDIS?)
In August, feeling a little reenergized after a conversation with a friend, I started (finally) editing the first book. I got it out to some beta readers. Some of them have given me helpful feedback. Everyone who has read it has said overwhelmingly positive things (which kind of freaks me out, but that's a whole other conversation).
And then I stopped. That second book that I'd worked so tirelessly on and then dropped was really hard for me to read. Really, really hard. (It's not my story, but enough of it mirrors my own grieving process that it will probably ALWAYS be hard for me to read.)
And then came November. I decided to edit a chapter a day, since I wasn't going to be writing every day. And then I read the last three chapters and epilogue in one day. I finished early. I didn't know what to do. So, I (coincidentally) met with my writing partner. I sat on it for a couple of days.
Yesterday, I went back into that second book. I think I figured out how to fix the one glaring thing that bothered both my writing partner and me. And now...it's ready. It's ready for other people to read it. I sent it out to the first couple of beta readers.
And now we wait.
It seems fitting to me that I should reach this point in November.
The last several years, November has come to be such a fun time for me. Not just writing every day, but sharing that with my friends. With our code names. With our wacky rules about task masters and write-a-thons. (I miss that this year, more than I expected to.)
So, today I am thankful to have the blessing of writing in my life. I'm thankful to be in this place right now with this pair of books. I'm thankful for my writing partners and beta readers, who are helping me make these books the best they can be.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Bonus post!
Because I'm really thankful for good bras. Bras that fit and hold everything in place so I can do things like skip during Derby Lite warm up and not kill myself. (You may think that's an exaggeration, but I wear a 34G. That's 8 pounds of girl flesh attached to my chest. It's not something you want to mess around with.)
I'm also hugely thankful for my friend Ana, the Bra Whisperer, for finally fitting me appropriately and teaching me how to wear my bras right. (If you think your bras are uncomfortable, go and get properly fitted. It'll change your life, I swear.)
I'm also hugely thankful for my friend Ana, the Bra Whisperer, for finally fitting me appropriately and teaching me how to wear my bras right. (If you think your bras are uncomfortable, go and get properly fitted. It'll change your life, I swear.)
Sleep
I am fantasizing about going back to bed and sleeping for a while, so maybe I'll do just that when I've finished with this post.
My mom used to tell the story about how when I was born, I stayed awake so long the doctors got worried. They wanted to give little baby me some Valium to make me sleep. She declined. (Thanks, Ma.) And during my babyhood, I would often be found wide awake just looking at things when I was supposed to be sleeping.
More recently, my aunt told me that when I was very little, I would nap in odd places. Like, the middle of the floor. She said I was such a grouch if I woke up that everyone would let me just sleep wherever I fell down, no matter how awkward or inconvenient that location might be.
I've been an insomniac my whole life. Sleep is not something that comes easily to me, even when I'm tired, even when I desperately need it.
Mom always said, "You reverse your days and nights so easily," and she's always been right about that. During the week, I force myself to get up to an alarm to be at work during the normally accepted business hours. Give me any kind of time off, and my natural sleep habits take over -- staying up well into the night and sleeping until almost afternoon.
I've gotten better at handling all of this -- about getting to sleep most nights and about conforming to the schedule adults are expected to keep and not letting myself get too off track on non-work days. But, I still can't help that I am an insomniac and that my natural circadian rhythm is well off from the one that our society has accepted.
And the biggest problem of all is that as much as I love sleep (and I do, I really, truly LOVE sleep), I make terrible decisions all the time about when to go to sleep. (I think it has something to do with the insomnia. It's like it's given me this fear of trying to go to sleep when I do not feel falling-down-eyes-drooping tired, because I know I'll just lie there feeling helpless and sleepy without actually sleeping for hours on end.)
So, I exploit pretty much any opportunity to sleep. And I am so thankful for weekends that allow me to take those opportunities and to get as much sleep as I can, where I can, without having to feel like some undisciplined child for "oversleeping" or "sleeping in." (Why on earth do we, as a culture, shame people for that? It doesn't mean you don't work hard when you're awake. It doesn't mean you're lazy. It's taken me nearly my entire life to finally get that it's simply about self-care.)
My mom used to tell the story about how when I was born, I stayed awake so long the doctors got worried. They wanted to give little baby me some Valium to make me sleep. She declined. (Thanks, Ma.) And during my babyhood, I would often be found wide awake just looking at things when I was supposed to be sleeping.
More recently, my aunt told me that when I was very little, I would nap in odd places. Like, the middle of the floor. She said I was such a grouch if I woke up that everyone would let me just sleep wherever I fell down, no matter how awkward or inconvenient that location might be.
I've been an insomniac my whole life. Sleep is not something that comes easily to me, even when I'm tired, even when I desperately need it.
Mom always said, "You reverse your days and nights so easily," and she's always been right about that. During the week, I force myself to get up to an alarm to be at work during the normally accepted business hours. Give me any kind of time off, and my natural sleep habits take over -- staying up well into the night and sleeping until almost afternoon.
I've gotten better at handling all of this -- about getting to sleep most nights and about conforming to the schedule adults are expected to keep and not letting myself get too off track on non-work days. But, I still can't help that I am an insomniac and that my natural circadian rhythm is well off from the one that our society has accepted.
And the biggest problem of all is that as much as I love sleep (and I do, I really, truly LOVE sleep), I make terrible decisions all the time about when to go to sleep. (I think it has something to do with the insomnia. It's like it's given me this fear of trying to go to sleep when I do not feel falling-down-eyes-drooping tired, because I know I'll just lie there feeling helpless and sleepy without actually sleeping for hours on end.)
So, I exploit pretty much any opportunity to sleep. And I am so thankful for weekends that allow me to take those opportunities and to get as much sleep as I can, where I can, without having to feel like some undisciplined child for "oversleeping" or "sleeping in." (Why on earth do we, as a culture, shame people for that? It doesn't mean you don't work hard when you're awake. It doesn't mean you're lazy. It's taken me nearly my entire life to finally get that it's simply about self-care.)
Saturday, November 23, 2013
I didn't even get anything good in the mail today, but I went to the post office and sent out several postal ninjery envelopes (with several more to go out sometime soon).
I love mail. And I love the fact that I can make someone else just as happy as I am to receive it by sticking some stuff in an envelope and sending it through the postal system.
I don't know what I'd do without email, but it definitely makes me a bit sad that email has made it so easy to forgo the real kind you can hold in your hands and tear open.
The thing I marvel at the most in this life is the way we are all connected. And I love how something as simple as mail supports those connections. I love how the postal ninjery project has given me a new way to know and appreciate people I may not have known all that well before it.
I love mail. And I love the fact that I can make someone else just as happy as I am to receive it by sticking some stuff in an envelope and sending it through the postal system.
I don't know what I'd do without email, but it definitely makes me a bit sad that email has made it so easy to forgo the real kind you can hold in your hands and tear open.
The thing I marvel at the most in this life is the way we are all connected. And I love how something as simple as mail supports those connections. I love how the postal ninjery project has given me a new way to know and appreciate people I may not have known all that well before it.
Friday, November 22, 2013
9th floor south
A few days ago was my fifth anniversary working at my current job. When we talk about ourselves collectively, we usually refer to "9th floor south" because that's where our program sits, off in the corner, up at the top of the building.
There are days when I don't particularly like my job. There are things I don't like doing and people I don't like interacting with. Working in state government can be nightmarish at times. (And don't even get me started on the crappy building....)
But the people in my program make it worth sticking around.
They're the people who took a picture of their feet clad in knee high socks surrounding a "We miss you" sign to let me know they were thinking of me when I was home taking care of my mom just before she died.
They're the people who lip synched and danced around the office to "Call Me Maybe" as a send off for one of our own.
They're the people who look for any and every excuse to have a potluck or bring in snacks.
Today was a pretty quiet day, even for a Friday. Lots of people were out of the office for one reason or another. But today, like most days, I'm really glad to work with the people of 9th floor south.
There are days when I don't particularly like my job. There are things I don't like doing and people I don't like interacting with. Working in state government can be nightmarish at times. (And don't even get me started on the crappy building....)
But the people in my program make it worth sticking around.
They're the people who took a picture of their feet clad in knee high socks surrounding a "We miss you" sign to let me know they were thinking of me when I was home taking care of my mom just before she died.
They're the people who lip synched and danced around the office to "Call Me Maybe" as a send off for one of our own.
They're the people who look for any and every excuse to have a potluck or bring in snacks.
Today was a pretty quiet day, even for a Friday. Lots of people were out of the office for one reason or another. But today, like most days, I'm really glad to work with the people of 9th floor south.
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