Letter to the editor

I have so much I want to say. I’ve been thinking and reading and talking with friends about politics, writing, writers, the state of the country, the world, AI, the Constitution, the Civil Rights movement. I write scraps of ideas for posts and essays, but don’t get far with them. I promise myself I will return to them, and perhaps I will. I reworked an essay I started some time ago and really tightened it up—500 words that I thought worked well. My opening line: I’ve been shot only once. The next part: By my brother Gary. With his BB gun. It was an accident, of course. And we were kids—he, at 11, was four years older than me. Once I got to the point where I could stop and read it to myself, I wondered: what is my point? Why am I writing about this? Originally it was going to say something about guns (my brother was a life-long collector) and gun laws (my brother supported safety laws and no one would have guessed how many guns he (safely) stored in his apartment). Am I really adding anything new or different to the topic that so many people have written about brilliantly? Really, I just wanted to tell a couple stories about my brother that I see as connected now that his life is complete. Really, I just want to write out my grief to share with everyone. To say: look at how interesting this guy was and listen to this funny story from when we were kids and how it connects to what I learned about his gun collection after he died and can you believe he died at only 50 years old because sometimes I can’t. I can’t believe he turned 50; finished his bachelor’s degree; received a stage 4 pancreatic cancer diagnosis. It really is the worst.

One thing I did write and get published was a letter to the editor of my hometown paper. Never mind that when they published it online, they included my phone number [insert skull emoji here]. I didn’t receive any calls or anything—I wouldn’t have known it was included if a colleague hadn’t breached the paywall to get a screenshot—but it seemed like a bad idea to have my name and number on their website. So I changed my phone number. My stepdad mailed me clip of the letter. This is what I’ve been thinking about.

Feb 24

Invigorated

Our finished masterpiece at the street painting festival.

I spent the last few days in South Florida, luxuriating in the perfect weather, and having delightful and inspiring conversations with some incredible people.

This trip to Florida has become an annual event for me and my friend, Cyd, and I hope it will continue for as long as it can. We go in February to participate in the terrific Lake Worth Street Painting Festival, something we participated in when we were both living in the area.

What I tend to realize while I’m there is how much I miss these people I’m visiting. They are hard working, dedicated, talented, stylish, interesting, fun, and funny. They are easy to talk to and have thoughts and opinions about the world around them. They are passionate. I find that all my favorite people embody these traits. Their friendships bring me pure delight. I’m thankful for them (in Florida and beyond).

While there, I have pangs of wishing to return to Florida because of ALL THE THINGS there are to do. So many options! SO MANY! I didn’t appreciate it while I was there because I lived in it. Now, transplanted back to the midwest, I miss it something fierce.

But the other thing I realize while I’m there is how happy I am in my little nook of the world, with my hubby and my pups. Always looking for the next adventure (New England, maybe?), but enjoying ourselves in the meantime.

Aug 24

The opposite of equanimity

The thing is…I know I make it worse by telling myself, “I want this to change,” “I want this to happen,” “I don’t want this to happen,” “I don’t want to deal with this situation,” “I’ll be happy when this happens.”

I’m perfectly and completely aware that we think ourselves into feeling agitated or dissatisfied. I know that’s what I’m doing these days. I have a certain vision in my mind of what I want life to be like right now, and since that vision is fading, I’m stomping my feet like a child, and wishing it were otherwise. This is the very opposite of how Buddhism teaches me to handle such situations. There is a great quote by Joko Beck that I snagged from another blog:

Life always gives us exactly the teacher we need at every moment. This includes every mosquito, every misfortune, every red light, every traffic jam, every obnoxious supervisor (or employee), every illness, every loss, every moment of joy or depression, every addiction, every piece of garbage, every breath. Every moment is the Guru.

I love this quote. It brings my thinking back to the present, and knowing that while I don’t have control over the situation, I do have control over how I respond to the situation. Intellectually, I know this, and often I’m able to apply it, but lately, I’ve fallen into old habits, and find myself pouting and stomping my feet more than I ‘d like to admit. And, of course, the pouting and stomping takes time away from actual action that could help me achieve my vision (but sometimes I don’t even know what action to take, which leads to further pouting on my part. You see where this is going. (Nowhere)).