A Hodgepodge

A friend sent "All Together" a piece she had written about trying to understand how things are now. It was two pages of her fear and worry laid bare, the kind of thing that seems like a drag but which was a balm for me. I thought, "thank goodness, someone else feels these things too." It was also beautifully written. Such a lovely gift to receive.

I wrote a rant about the man-child in the White House to which I won't subject you. I needed to write it, to respond to a liar, but he will ever acknowledge he lies, that he's ever wrong, that he harms others. There's nothing to do but move on from him and hope fate sweeps him away soon.

Another friend called about her situation. It's not good. A loved one tested positive but is unable to care for himself. But it's not all bad. Her parents will care for him she has family with whom she's staying and being cared for.

Yesterday, I had a good meeting and felt renewed vigor from it. Some of that vigor remains today.

My daughters and wife are healthy. It turns out that our house is one of the happier houses I know. It has often been that way, but what a comfort that in these times it's as true as ever.

There is work to do. This morning I drafted two grants for emergency funding, my small part in keeping the community centers running. Writing felt like doing something. I'll keep searching for those opportunities.

Our dog and the cats have help. Last night, though she does not love hugging or cuddling, our dog let me hug and cuddle her as she curled on her bed waiting to be allowed some peace. She gave me comfort. I give her cheese and chicken while I prepare dinner. We both think that's a good deal.

My daughters went outside to paint. Then the rain came. Governor Cuomo wants everyone staying indoors. What does that mean for us?

Tonight the wind will tear through our region. I lowered the basketball hoop. We are charging our devices in case we lose power. I was never one for checking weather reports and now it seems almost indecent to follow any news but that of the virus. Who wants to think about the ten-day forecast?

I'm inside listening to a Cannonball Adderley record on my turntable. I'll have lots of time to listen to records now.

When I see anyone from my window or when walking down the street, I wave and say hello. We're all our brothers' keepers now and should have been all along.

Take care of you and yours. If we all do that, then everyone will be cared for.

Breathing Into Balance

I have a meeting scheduled today at 4:30. Do I go or "meet" online? Am I being overly cautious, giving into fear? Is it foolish to expose myself (and by connection, my family) to further contact? The answers to all of these questions are that I just don't know.

It's an important meeting, but is anything important enough to get into a room with people and increase the exposure of my family by four or five times? We're in the early stages of understanding this pandemic. Testing isn't widely available. My family, including my elderly mother, are healthy, and I'll do most anything to keep it that way. So, despite the meeting's importance, I'm unsure what to do.

This reminds me that balance is the most important thing on which I'll work over the next few weeks. It has been crucial all along, but is especially so now. I'm balancing the welfare of my family with the importance of the meeting, balancing the feeling of risk with the available science, balancing fear with courage and risk with safety.

I can't hold balance. I'm constantly falling out of it. That sounds bad, but I'm also always in the process of returning to balance. Two nights ago I couldn't sleep thinking all was lost. The next morning I saw the sunlight. Last night I slept well. This morning it's grey outside and in.

As for the meeting, everyone there is smart, thoughtful, and careful. All of us will wash hands before, stay six feet apart, and not shake hands. Maybe we will begin by acknowledging our concerns and the ways in which we feel out of balance. From there we can proceed.

Yesterday, worrying over all this, I stopped to watch my daughters outside, playing with the dog, doing a photo shoot. I saw people jogging and walking past the house. I sat next to my wife on the couch. I knew that my mother was only a phone call away. I took a deep breath and felt just that much more calm, cleansed, and dare I say balanced in that moment. Before I could worry that the moment would end, I took another breath, this time closing my eyes and trusting that I won't fall down.

Love Thy Neighbor?

I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that someone important suggested (maybe commanded) I love my neighbor as I love myself. Something to that effect. I believe in that. It's sensible, thoughtful, and healthy.

However.

My next door neighbor's dog is barking outside. This is not unusual. It's almost noon, so that's better than when he barks from six to six-thirty in the morning or eleven-thirty to midnight. Still, it has been ten minutes of the dog barking at passing people, dogs, and sometimes cars and leaves. The bark is deep and strong. Were I a good person, I'd think of him as Walt Whitman sounding his barbaric yawp across the rooftops of the world.

I just think he's a pain in the ass.

I suppose I sound mean and petty. (I can play that role.) For several years I've not loved or even liked my neighbor. I don't hate her, so there's that at least. And just so I come off a little better, I blame the dog's faults on the neighbor. A dog doesn't know any better.

I like dogs. We have one, but she hardly barks. The two exceptions are the single bark to let us know she's ready to come in from the yard and a few seconds of bat-shit crazy barking when the little dog in the house above ours goes off. Our dog sprints up the hill to the fence, they bark like mad, then they settle in for wagging and smelling.

I don't mind that little dog, but I don't. He used to bark a lot, but I knocked on their door and asked "do you think you could bring him in when he barks?" They did. Since then, no problems. I love my neighbor as my dog loves theirs.

The next door neighbor won't change. I've asked. A couple times. Politely. But it doesn't occur to her that the barking is a problem. Some neighbors aren't on the same wave length of thoughtfulness.

None of this is the end of the world or cause for hatred, but I don't much love my neighbor. Not that one at least.

Still, today when she walks her dog, I'll say hello from a safe distance and ask how she's doing. It's the neighborly thing to do and right now we need as much of that as we can muster.

Woof-woof.

New Routine

Happy Saint Patrick's Day. I know that's usually written "St. Patrick" but an extra "saint" in the world is better than an abbreviation. I have very little understanding of who Saint Patrick was and am a little suspicious of those who "bring" Christianity to believers of other things, but I like to think there's good in this world and that we learn from that, so Happy Saint Patrick's Day.

I'm on the couch listening to Vince Guaraldi & Bola Sete. Usually by now I'd have taken my daughter to school and gone in to the office, but schools and the office are closed. I need a new routine.

Routine gets a bad rap — Stuck in a rut. Same old, same old — but routine provides comfort and rhythm. Last night I went to bed at the usual time. This morning I got up about as usual. I made a cup of coffee and wrote my Morning Pages. That has been my routine for years. I'll continue it.

After Morning Pages I usually shave, shower, dress, and go to work. I'll work from home for the foreseeable future, but I still shaved and will shower and dress once my daughters are awake. Shaving reminds me that I still have obligations (mostly to myself) and the power to respond instead of just reacting. My smooth face (though I try not to touch it) reminds me I'm not just alive but I'm living. There's a difference.

I'm on the couch typing this, testing if it could become routine, writing a morning blog post.

I can't tell what my new routine will be. I try things and see how they feel. Today it's sitting on the couch under a blanket listening to Guaraldi & Bola while typing a post about routine. Tomorrow may bring something else. I'll move in and out of things until I get into a groove. Developing a routine takes patience, time, acceptance, and the determination to create a routine.

Creative people are good models for this. A friend has worked in the arts for years. No boss, no time clock, no regular paycheck, but he has a routine he follows pretty regularly. That's how he gets the work done and getting the work done is what he most wants to do. Routine allows him to explore and create.

Routine helps me go through my days and not let them pass me by. Routine comforts and helps me feel as if I'm doing something good.

This morning I wrote three pages by hand which is always good. I shaved so I look at least a little bit good. Now I've sat on the couch and typed something that may be good to others. The routine feels good and feeling good is something I need, something we're all going to need. Routinely.