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New And Selected

April 08, 2018 by Brian Fay in Poetry

Having finished a book of George Bilgere’s poems and having no more of him to read, I picked up Billy Collins’s New and Selected Poetry wishing publishers wouldn’t keep reselling the old just to put out a dozen new. I finished The Trouble with Poetry Section and went to replace my bookmark. A piece of folded paper on which my youngest daughter had written in marker: dear dad. I am really sorry For what I said I was just angry and I am really really really really really really really sorry. She drew a sad girl in her bed looking straight at me. The note is signed with Love, the O a sad face. It’s a poem I’ve read before. I may ask her to write another volume and place it in here. New and selected poetry from one of my favorite authors.

April 08, 2018 /Brian Fay
Daughters, Poetry, Bilgere, Billy Collins
Poetry
Proof: 10 miles, $235, and oh my that smoothie was good.

Proof: 10 miles, $235, and oh my that smoothie was good.

Ten Miles, Wegmans, A Smoothie

April 07, 2018 by Brian Fay in Running

Just got home from spending $235 at Wegmans for the week's groceries and back-stock. This after dropping my youngest and a friend at the mall and having my oldest drive from the mall to Wegmans on the highway. She is sixteen and her driver's ed. class will be on the highway this week so she wanted practice. Sure, why not? She did well and we made it to Wegmans where we shopped for an hour and a half, my girl in full command, me just following and paying the bill. Coming out, getting in the passenger seat, I looked at the clock. "4:03? How did it get to be 4:03 already?" I just wanted a nap. And a smoothie. 

I'm sipping that smoothie as I type this. A cup of milk, handful of spinach, one frozen banana, a heaping tablespoon of natural peanut butter (no sugar!), and a tablespoon of chia seeds. Delicious and nutritious, don't you know. I'm skipping the nap in favor of writing. That and I tend to make a mess drinking smoothies in bed while asleep. 

I wanted a nap because I ran ten miles this morning. I'm getting ready for The Fifty, as I call it and did two loops of the course on which I hope to run ten loops in August. I didn't plan to run two loops, but as I finished the first I felt good and wondered what it would be like to go for a second. Ten miles later I had my answer. You're thinking I'll say it hurt like hell. 

You're wrong. 

As I came down Euclid and turned into home, I smiled then laughed a little. It's okay. The neighbors know I'm weird. I laughed because it didn't hurt. I had felt my legs tire on the run, but not so much that I wanted to stop or was counting down the miles to home. I knew I would want a nap later (bet your ass I do), but coming up the driveway, stopping my GPS watch at 10.02 miles, I felt strong. I knew that I could have easily gone on for another mile or two and could have gutted out another loop.

I may feel differently tomorrow, but for now I feel good even if it is thirty degrees and snowing. It's Syracuse. These things aren't that shocking. And neither really is the run. 

The groceries are away. The girl is learning to drive. That smoothie was delicious. My legs are tired but strong. My feet too. I don't know if other people think about how strong their feet are, but I do, and I've got some work to do on them, but it's too cold to run barefoot. That can wait. So can the nap. I'm feeling too good to go to sleep just yet. 

April 07, 2018 /Brian Fay
Wegmans, Daughters, Smoothie Recipe, Driver's Ed.
Running
Like! Like! Like!

Like! Like! Like!

Is It Time To Leave Facebook?

April 05, 2018 by Brian Fay in Analog Living

It's such a simple question and the answers ought to be simple, or so it seems to me, but I have been thinking about this most every hour of the last two days and on and off for several years. The latest data breaches (if giving the data away can be called a breach) give me new incentive to quit, but they aren't compelling. I already give away all sorts of information to Google, post about my life on this website, and have more online accounts than I can remember. There has long been something about Facebook though, something icky, for lack of a better word, that has bothered me and I continue to admire people who aren't unpaid content creators for Zuck. 

Why stay then? I connect with people on Facebook. Not good connections, but at least something, and I fear losing touch with our old neighbors, a girl I used to date, and so on. Then again, are these not good connections worth much of anything? 

One good reason to go is time. I know I'm the only one, but I lose an hour at a time to Facebook. That hour isn't productive, doesn't feel good, and yet I give it up as if I have to. If I don't lose an hour all at once, I lose more than an hour coming back throughout the day and night, checking in, hoping something will entertain me. 

I just opened Facebook and found four notifications. One was my neighbor's Like! of a reply I made to his post, another was his reply to me. A third was someone else replying to his post and the fourth was a friend Like!-ing something I replied to her. This is what I mean by not good connection. Still, I'm loath to shut down even these "not good" connections. I wonder if those four hits felt like connection at all. Why do I go back for hit after hit of that? 

I stopped using the Like!. It seemed to epitomize "not good" connection. To Like! was simply acknowledging something had been posted. It doesn't mean someone had read or really connected. It certainly doesn't mean "like" as we know the term. (A while ago my sister-in-law Like!d Kids With Cancer and we had a lot of fun thinking of her as an angel of pediatric death.) I publish a blog entry such as this, link to it on Facebook, and in a moment someone Like!s the Facebook post. They haven't have read the blog, aren't responding to my writing, and I don't know what the hell they are doing. My wife says, they're trying to be nice. She's right, I'm sure, but what's nice about Like!? 

It's not that I think Like! people are rude or superficial (though there is nothing much more superficial than a Like!), it's that I can't figure out what all of us are doing. It seems to me to be less foolish than insane. 

Is it time to leave Facebook? Of course. It was time five years ago. It was time last month. It was time when I posted this:

The link is to a Washington Post article about Facebook giving away all our data (or having it stolen, whatever). 

The link is to a Washington Post article about Facebook giving away all our data (or having it stolen, whatever). 

Yet I still haven't deleted my account. Weakness? Maybe it's the sort of thing to which I need to adjust. Maybe I'll just rip the bandage off and quit. I'll regret it for sure, like a recovering drunk dreams of going back to the bottle, but I bet I'll feel better, better, and better. So much better I'll Like! it. 

There is irony in the fact that below this line is a button by which you can Like! this post. Sigh. 

April 05, 2018 /Brian Fay
Facebook, Social Media, Disconnect
Analog Living
procrastinate.jpg

Roots Of Procrastination

April 04, 2018 by Brian Fay in Writing, Whatever Else

Leo Babauta's recent piece Four Antidotes To Procrastination caught my eye but, oh the irony, I put off reading it. Having read it now, I like how he admits to "procrastinating a bit more than normal, and of course it doesn't feel great." He gives good reasons why he procrastinates: fatigue, overload, uncertainty. He wants "an antidote (or two) to our procrastination, because it usually means we're not doing the meaningful work we want to do in the world. It's worth figuring out." 

In the margin, I wrote "procrastination is a sign of unhappiness. I want to investigate it so as to address what is really wrong." Babauta's piece suggests solutions to procrastination, but I'm pulled to try understanding the underlying problem of which procrastination is merely a symptom. 

Last week I very little good writing. I watched a lot of television and felt myself slipping toward depression. I wanted to work on my daily blog posts and a big writing project to which I've recently returned, but instead flipped channels, scrolled through social media, and skimmed the news. I procrastinated going to my desk to write, but procrastination, while a problem, wasn't the root problem keeping me from "doing the meaningful work." It was a symptom of something deeper. 

My issues began with getting too little sleep. I get up mornings at 4:45 but was up after ten most nights. Some people can get by on that little sleep, but not me. Lacking sleep I begin thinking of whole lists of things I have to do and spiral into anxiety. I procrastinate because I feel  I can't do the things I want to do. And all of that stems from feeling unworthy, my fundamental issue. 

Dealing with that feeling of unworthiness seems impossible, so I end up in front of television, phone, or computer. But when the wind changes, I do a few things that make a difference: I get rest, stop making lists, do one small thing, clear space, and remember the difference between work and a job. 

Rest comes first. I'm tired and wanted to go for a run, but my job drained me and it's about all I can do to sit here and type this. I'll be in bed reading by eight and asleep before nine. I'll be more ready to go tomorrow. 

Ditching the list is good. I worry that I'll forget something, but if it's important, it will get done. There are always a couple dozen things that feel like priorities, but I can do only one and I do better without the anxiety the list gives me. I'm typing this and that's enough. I don't know what's next. That can wait. Right now there's just this one thing. 

Clearing space on the desk mirrors clearing it in my mind. Imagine a desk covered with laptop, three folders, two stapled articles, a dozen pages of notes and writings, a letter from a friend, an empty coffee cup, the stapler, two library books, phone, wallet, keys, a pen, and a writer's notebook. On the shelf next are the contents of a couple more folders, some bills, and more books. That's my brain sometimes and it leaves me anxious and distracted. Clearing means picking something up and finding the right place for it until I have just the tools for one job: a notebook, laptop, and one article while in my head there is just one task on which to focus. Distractions creep in, but I'm getting better at gently clearing them away. The clear desk and mind help settle and center me. 

Then it's a matter of differentiating between work and a job. Work is choice, jobs are obligations, but it's mostly up to how I choose to approach the task. If I'm doing it because I ought to, it's a job and I'm likely to procrastinate. If I choose to do it as work, even scooping the cat litter can be rewarding and worthy of my focus though I'm not sure I can explain how. It's easier to see it with choosing to write this. There's no money or fame in it, but it's good work. My job tired me terribly today. This work is energizing. 

Procrastination isn't the enemy. Procrastination is a symptom of me fighting something, most likely the feeling I'm unworthy. Right now I'm not sure I'm worthy of publishing this. Who am I to say much of anything? Well, if nothing else, I'm someone with a clear mind (and desk) and a focus on understanding that procrastination comes from a deeper place. That might be worth sharing. 

Now, I'm ready to clear the desk and my mind of this and find more work I want to be doing. There's always the cat litter. 
 

April 04, 2018 /Brian Fay
Clutter, Procrastination, Self-help
Writing, Whatever Else
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