The World has Become an Unfamiliar Place

Everything changed in a very short span of time, for everyone, all over the planet.  It's not just my world, or your world, that's been turned upside down, it's everyone's.  We are all in this mess.  While the suffering is solitary, isolated and alone, the condition is universal. I am no historian, but I don't think a situation quite like this has ever happened before. We are moving through uncharted territory and the world has become an unfamiliar place.

There have been times of war, world war, where seemingly the entire planet was in chaos and dread, but each country, each location on the planet suffered differently.  Some were intense while others were so remote as to be unaffected.  There were place of escape and retreat.  When other diseases have swept the earth they started in isolated pockets while the rest of the world was unaware.  The pace of life was slower and the rate of human travel and communication was MUCH slower, thereby dragging out the spread of illness, or even knowledge of it's existence, across the globe.  Some areas were able to escape untouched, and many people continued to live their lives unaware of the devastation.

Global access to instantaneous information changes everything.  We know when it started, we know where it spread to first and how quickly. We know how many are infected today, how many died, how many have been tested. We have seen the photos of Italy.  We are not living in ignorant bliss while the pestilence rages in our direction.  The story hasn't been pieced together by the survivors as a tale of warning to future generations.  It's being told, and heard, in real-time by millions and millions who face the same threat. The voice of warning from the dust isn't dust yet, or just barely so.  We have been warned.  

How do we act based on those warnings?  What do we do with the knowledge of what is coming?  I am sure my fears, worries, challenges, actions, reactions and thoughts about COVID-19 are not unique, neither are they universal.  It's an odd thing to be struggling alone in my head with what feels very personal while surrounded by an entire planet of people who know just what I'm going through.  There are many different ways of looking at the same set of circumstance and handling the resulting stress.

First there are those that are in denial.  I understand them.  If they don't believe it, it isn't real.  If everyone is just blowing it out of proportion and over reacting, then they have nothing to fear.  It's a simple psychological coping mechanism - the first stage of grief.  If there is no virus, then there is no danger.  Simple, straightforward, problem solved.  There is no problem, except for the people who insist there is a problem. 

Then there are the people who are angry.   Angry at the responsible parties - scientists, labs, conspiring governments foreign and abroad, bat eaters, heedless travelers, close talkers, nose pickers, hoarders, spring break partiers, etc.  Angry at those that haven't done enough, those are doing too much, those that did things differently than they would have. Anyone that gets in the way, anyone that stops the normalcy of life is a target of their anger. Anger is usually a reaction to fear.  They are angry and afraid looking for a dragon to slay.  They need someone to blame and something to fight.  It's another pretty easily understood psychological response to a threat with a straightforward coping method.  Find the monster, kill the monster.  Except, this monster is not so easily identified, contained, or killed.  It's elusive and invisible to the naked eye.  Beware the pitchforks if this group gets organized towards a common enemy.

The hoarders - oh, the hoarders - they are kind of like the angry people, except that they don't need to blame or kill, but they do need something to DO.  They need action.  They need to feel like they are solving the problem, or preparing, or at least doing something, anything, even if it is irrational like hoarding toilet paper.  If the world is going down with me trapped at home, there are a lot of things higher on my list of basic needs than tp.  I don't know why the tp became a thing, but once it did, crazy!  Hoarding supplies is about trying to control an uncontrollable situation.  It's wisdom run amuck, prudence in overdrive.

There are also those in complete panic mode - watching the news 24/7 and sharing every inflammatory meme on social media.   That level of high alert takes a toll to maintain.  Eventually the adrenaline will run out and they will be exhausted and join the ranks of those that have given up, binging on Netflix shows they have already watched, eating all the snacks and ordering from Door Dash.

Even those people who have so far managed to keep their heads, and are trying to carry on making wise, rational decisions, don't have it easy.  I would venture to guess that most of us have felt at least a twinge of panic, wished we could embrace denial, felt anger stirring in our chest with no where for it to go, and have counted our stash wishing we were better equipped.  I know I have.

I've been going in to work.  I'm pretty much alone all day in my office.  There are less humans at my work right now than in my home.  I could do most of my work from home, but I go because it feels normal. I need something to feel normal.  I get up at the same time, follow my morning routine, and show up at my office.  All the while beating back the thoughts telling me it's pointless. 

 Sleep in, skip my daily routine of journaling and planning.  Plan the day? plan what? everything is cancelled. Why shower?  Why do my hair?  I could wear sweats to work, who's going to see me anyway?  Wear sweats and stay home. Why write down my dreams and goals? They are impossible now anyway.  Why would I want to travel the world, or be a great leader?  The world is different now, and I need new dreams, smaller dreams that I can fulfill within the walls of my own home, my own mind....

SHUT UP!

That's what I say to those thoughts, everyday, multiple times a day.  It works, they obey.  They recede to the background and I regain control.  It's what I do.  I show up.  I keep going.  I try and make the best decisions for my family, my team at work and our customers.  I want everyone to be safe, well and happy, with their needs met.  I want the weddings to continue, families to celebrate, and business meetings to happen. I want the kids to go to the park, and the kitchen to be full of food.  I want everyone to have work. I want the show to go on.

I realize that I don't have the ability to make that happen.  I only have the ability to respond to what's happening, as it changes seemingly by the hour, with my best self.  I can react from a place of kindness and love.  I can respond to the angry person on the phone with compassion.  I can listen.  I can take their concerns seriously and not dismiss them. I can volunteer as tribute, and go into the fire for those in my circle that need.  I can go to the store, I can search for what they need and do my best to provide it.  I can keep backing up to keep the close talking guy out of my personal space who is clearly in denial.  I can sanitize the door knobs and counter tops in my office multiple times a day.  I can help a bride reschedule her big day without charging her more money.  I can refund deposits when events are cancelled.   I can offer solutions, and a listening ear.  I can be a gentle voice in a world of angry shouts and fearful cries.  I can access that deep empathy that comes from a shared struggle and offer my fellow travelers on this unfamiliar journey some grace. 

Because Camping Can Be In Tents

I found these fun band-aids at Target weeks ago and thought they would be a fun little gifts for Girls Camp.  I have been racking my brain for the right words and packaging to go with them.  When hours of Pinterest scrolling failed to supply what I was looking for, I decided to make my own.  On the odd chance there is another person looking for something similar, I decided to add my creation to Pinterest and save them all the trouble.  If that is you, you are most welcome.

 These are super easy to assemble.  All you need to to do is print, cut them out, fold, insert your prize, and seal them up with a bit of tape or a sticker.  Cutting an nice even circle was the hardest part for me.  (Why is Quincie gone the one day I am doing a craft project??)

 1. Print

2. Cut it out

 

3. Fold in the sides

 

4. Insert your flat prize (Band-aids, EmergenC, etc.)

 5. Secure with tape or a sticker

For My Own Sake

"I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else." ~ John Keats

This quote from a love letter written by poet John Keats has been rolling around in my head the last couple of weeks.  I get it - the kind of love he is talking about.  To be loved just for who you are, not for what you do, or what you look like, or how you contribute, but just because you are, is a treasure. 

The more I thought about it the more I think this is how grandchildren and grandparents love each other.  I know that is how I feel about my sweet little grandsons, and also how I feel about my own Grandmothers.  It is a fierce and illogical attachment.  I love them just for their own existence.  Nothing can change that and nothing can top that.

I have been looking for the perfect image to express this thought, and finally found it.  I don't know who to thank for taking this picture of my Grandma T holding me when I was just a tiny girl.  They captured that look on her face that I now recognize as the way a grandmother feels about her grandchild - pure and total love.

Aging Update

 I know, 2 posts this week? What the heck? 

When I was over here yesterday I read the last thing I posted, 8 months ago about aging.  Things have definitely changed on that front!

1. I now LOVE my hair!  No dye, just a great cut and good shampoo.  The gray roots are now gray streaks.  I especially love the gray streaks at my part.  It's not quite as cool as Rogue, but not bad for Mother Nature.
The texture of my hair feels so good.  It feels like it did when I was much younger, before I started trying to hide the silver sparkles.  It's shiny, soft and it moves.  Sorry, I'm kind of in love my hair right now.  I can't stop touching it. :)

 

2. My feet have recovered and I'm wearing heels again (occasionally) without pain. I bought a good pair of b.o.c. sandals.  They are only sort of ugly, and have GREAT arch support.  After we moved in February, I pretty much wore my hiking boots daily until it got warm, and I still wear them when hiking.  The big lesson here - DON'T WEAR CHEAP SHOES!!!!  Your feet carry you around everyday and they deserve some respect and support.

3. I noticed once again, that I am not nearly as tall, or thin, in reality as I am in my mind.  I saw my reflection in the glass door of a freezer at the store today and was shocked once again. (Who's that short, stumpy lady with the fabulous hair?? Oh, it's me!  No!)   Not sure why, but it still surprises me.  I also think of myself as more graceful and athletic than I really am.  I KNOW I am not a ninja or a ballerina, but I wish I were.  It's also quite possible that I am not as smart as I once thought I was.

4. Being a grandmother is FANTASTIC!  I love those 2 wild little guys so much it's crazy!  Being with them doesn't make me feel old.  They actually make me feel younger.  Playing, actually letting go of all restraint and playing, with a child, is very good for my soul.  They make me laugh and smile every single day. 

5. I started wearing contacts again a few months ago.  It's really fabulous to be able to see!  I needed multi-focal lenses and I could never get used to them in glasses, so I just wore my reading glasses mostly.  I lost my distance sunglasses in the ocean - sad, but true.  These multi-focal contacts are AMAZING!!  I love the rich details of the world that are now clear to me.  (Note all the nature pics on social media.)  It is also a fact that the skin around my eyes looks much better when I take OUT my contacts.  (So does the grout around the bathroom sink.)

5. I'm taking more vitamins, trying not to eat so much junk, and exercising when it's fun (mostly hiking when I can). 

Life is too short to not enjoy it, and too precious to squander.  Each day is a gift.

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

Is blogging dead?  Mine is - 8 months with  no post is pretty much dead.  I love to express myself through the written word, so what gives?  My expressions have been reduced to Facebook and IG posts.  Can't do Twitter, even at my briefest, I need more than 140 characters.

I have been recently asked to write blog posts for a couple of clients.  I was like, sure, I blog, I can do that.  But seriously, I haven't blogged since before Christmas!  Are my skills rusty?  What is a blog post but a short essay with a couple of flashy photos?  So all these years since school, and I'm still writing essays.  I admit I prefer getting paid in dollars rather than grades.

Whatever, this blog post is dumb, and too short, and kind of pointless.  I'm really profound over on social media - I'll go post another nature photo over there were get paid in likes. :)

Aging Gracefully, or Otherwise

My daughter says my gray hair is pretty.  I think she is lying to me.  But whatever ... I'm not dying it anymore - for now - maybe - I might change my mind tomorrow.  Some days I'm cool with it, and others I look in the mirror and wonder, "who is this old gal?".  Hair dye doesn't really change anything - it's just smoke and mirrors - still the same old m e under the illusion, but sometimes the truth is hard to look at.  Is there some sort of rule, like the one about wearing white after Labor Day, about at what age you should just go ahead and go gray?  How old is too old to have long hair?  Is there then yet another milestone age when it's cool again to have super long hair?  I'm just not educated about all the rules of aging.  I never intended to do it, but alas, here I am, just this side of 50 and well, let's just say, I don't get carded for cough syrup anymore.

And then there is the subject of my feet.  They hurt.  I have pretty much given up on heels because I don't like pain.  I've been wearing slippers for months.  (Just in case you are not familiar with the way we say things in Hawaii, slippers are not house shoes, they are flip flops, or thongs if you are from the 70's or 80's before a thong became something obscene.)  They don't pinch or squeeze any part of the foot, but they still hurt - because they are flat.  At least the ones I wear.  The super flat ones look pretty.  They look like a pretty naked foot with just a little splash of color with a strap or a small buckle.  Eventually flat shoes make your feet hurt.  Your arch needs some support.  Your foot needs at least a little cushion.   I like the look of flat, skinny, minimalist slippers, big tall boots, or sleek skinny heels.  I think all running shoes are hideous, along with all the sensible shoes in the world.  They look terrible.  Ballerina flats, are flat, but I hate the way they look on my feet. (I think it has to do with my ankles - they are thick.  Nice and sturdy and sensible, but not my idea of nice looking.)  Oh yeah, I also like the look of Converse and have a couple pair, and they also make my feet hurt.  They are too flat, too narrow, have minimal arch support and no cushion to speak of.  They are more uncomfortable than heels or flats.  Am I doomed to sore feet or ugly shoes? 

So if some day in the not too distant future, you see someone that kind of looks like me, except they have long, wild, frizzy, gray hair and and are wearing a pair Sketchers or Crocs, go ahead and say hello.  I'm probably eating chocolate and I will share.  I'm still cool, even if my shoes and hair say otherwise.

Homeless Newborns

There is something amiss in this world when a small apartment, in terrible condition - not even safe, or sanitary - rents for over $900/month, where a blind woman depends on her 4 year old grand daughter to be her eyes, where in a homeless camp of 300, 85 are children, 5 of which are newborns. FIVE homeless newborns!  There are 2 newborns living in my home right now and I cannot even imagine them homeless.  It breaks my heart, and makes me want to scream.  How can we being doing such a poor job of it down here that our most innocent, precious, and vulnerable are homeless?  Welcome to the world you precious child of God ....

Seriously, homeless newborns??  I can't get over it.  Those mothers - how are they caring for themselves as they recover from pregnancy and birth?   How can this be?  I know, I know - we make our own choices in life and that determines where we end up.  I am a big advocate of personal responsibility.  I think people should work hard, follow the rules, and be responsible.  But do you know how much work it takes to afford that much rent?  How much it takes to just cover the very basics?  It's not as simple as all that.  Sometimes life gets darn near impossible.

Thank goodness it doesn't get cold here, but a home provides so much more than warmth.  A home provides safety, and shelter.  It provides a place of sanctuary from the world.  It's a place to belong, to feel safe and loved.  How does growing up homeless shape a child?

All they are asking for is clean bedding and towels for the kids for Christmas.  That's it - just a bit of comfort and the means to be clean.  We are a greedy and selfish society that consumes flat screen tvs and decorator seasonal throw pillows while newborns - NEWBORNS - don't have a roof over their heads!  Something is waaaaay out of wack.  We need a society wide priority check.  There are homes, there are empty buildings, there is plenty for all, if we would only live up to our divine birth right and love our neighbors as ourselves. 

I just can't even imagine ..... but there is no need to imagine.  It's reality, just down the road.  Life is fragile, we must treat each other better.  If don't, we are failing the test.  We are failing.  I must do something.  Even if my efforts are one feeble stroke against the strong current, I must try.  Won't you try too?

UPDATE 12/1/16:
We gathered up sheets, towels, clothes, baby items, food, etc and donated a trunk full today.  It's so much better for those extra things to of use rather than taking up space in our crowded house.  Why do so many of us humans have the innate desire to hoard stuff?  If having a clean towel is good, then having 20 is better, right?  Wrong!  Having tons of stuff is a burden.  Let go and be of use.  Free your stuff.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start!