CHAOS

Yesterday morning a thunderstorm rolled through our area.  This is not a common occurrence.  We get drizzle, mist, showers, even steady rain sometimes.  But yesterday morning the skies darkened, the temperature dropped, and winds picked up.  Soon, there was distant rumbling.  And a pelting non-stop big drop rain.  By the time I signed on to my weekly Zoom visit with my Sutra Sisters yoga group we all heard the loud cracks of thunder and flinched a bit at the flashes of lightening outside the windows in our respective homes, although some of us live 20 miles apart.

This dark deluge, replete with sound effects, seemed fitting.  Our world has been storming lately.  We have been living in a whirl of chaos it seems -- where nothing is as it was.  In the Ayurvedic tradition, one would call the energy around us "Vata" -- a swirling chaos of unpredictable movement.

We've been living with the Coronavirus pandemic where many (most, in Washington) have been "locked down" socially: staying home, keeping physical distance from each other, wearing masks, to comply with the Governors order.  But others, some in our community and in other states, have defied this recommendation to slow the spread of the virus and have refused to stay home, to distance from others, to wear masks. Somehow this defiance has become a political statement -- a disbelief in science, epidemiology, and a protest against being told what to do, how to live.  It's become a statement of "freedom" to refuse to comply.  Citizen is pitted against citizen as the refusal to wear a mask endangers us all.

As businesses have shuttered to comply with orders to "stay home" workers have been laid off, let go, and some small businesses have closed for good.  No one wanted this.  Everyone hates this.  We all grieve.  Yet some believe we must suffer this economic downturn in order to save lives.  Others have organized rallies and stormed State Houses with weapons and banners demanding we "open the economy".   These images on the news are unsettling and chaotic.  There seems to be no way to bridge the gap to reach an understanding of sacrificing for the greater good.

Then last week a black man in Minneapolis was killed when a white police officer pushed his face into the pavement with a knee to the victims neck as he arrested the man (who was handcuffed and unable to resist), while three other officers stood around doing nothing to help the victim.  The ensuing protests in Minneapolis and then spreading out to every major city in the United States over the ensuing days have resulted in riots, looting, fires, massive destruction of property and many injuries (thankfully, no deaths yet).   There is righteous anger, demands for change, for justice.  People want to be seen and heard.

To some police are seen as the "enemy" shouted at, pelted with bottles, rocks, and other debris as they try valiantly to maintain order and safety for protestors.  But some police were also identified as perpetrators of more undue violence in the melee, beating and clubbing and tear-gassing their way through the crowds.  Chaos.

Curfews are put in place to little effect. Tear gas and flashbombs are used to control the crowds.  Store front windows are smashed and looting occurs.  Fires are set and cars and buildings burn.  Many watch in horror, wondering to what end are these destructive acts committed? 

We hear that some portion of this destructive violence comes not from the community, but from outside extremist groups swooping in to take advantage of an opportunity to sew discord, to cause us to judge each other and to turn away from those hurting, casting them as offenders rather than victims.  We hear they are right-wing white supremacists methodically bringing makeshift weapons to the fray, to smash and burn and incite others to violence as mob mentality overtakes reason.  Who can tell?  How do we know?  What can we do?  Who are the good guys?  The bad guys?  Chaos.

And we have no leadership, no voice of calm or reason coming from the White House.  His usual words of divisiveness and threat are no balm to anyone.   The chaos of this administration is more and more disturbing, more and more out of touch, more and more ineffective.  During a pandemic he withdrew the U.S. from the World Health Organization.  During a nationwide protest over police brutality he threatens to crack down harder -- threatening military action and the loosing of "vicious dogs".   It has been nearly 4 years of chaotic dismantling of the rules and norms of our national government, of name calling, threatening, bullying.  It has been horrifying and disorienting.  We both anticipate and dread the coming election.  Our Republic hangs by a thread as an oligarchy-ruled authoritarianism creeps ever closer to the finish line.

I do not do well with chaos.  Yesterday, after the storm, I felt myself unable to find an oasis of calm.  I felt exhausted.  I decided to do something I never do.  I went up to my bed, crawled in fully dressed, pulled the covers over me, and fell asleep.  I slept for 2-1/2 hours.  This is practically unheard of.  But I believe my mind, body, and spirit had had enough.  I needed respite.  Sleep was a gentle and soothing balm in the middle of a dark and troubling day.  Hub made dinner for us; we watched a comedy on TV.  I thought I'd be up all night after my late afternoon nap.  But sleep took me under again -- for 7 straight hours.

Nothing has changed this morning....we are still fighting for our lives with the pandemic; overnight riots continued; the "president' is still Tweeting threats; I still don't get to see or hug my grandkids.

But, rested, I realize with renewed perseverance, we do as we do, we decide to go on.  To take action. To do what we can.  For me that will be:  contribute to an organization fighting for racial justice; contact elected officials; work for voting rights and candidates.  And wear my mask, physically distance, find a safe way to see my family.

I realize how blessed and privileged I am and that I have a responsibility to use that privilege, to be an example, to live a life that brings compassion and support to those I love and those who need my effort on their behalf.

I have a print hanging on my kitchen cabinet that I see every day: "We can do hard things."  Yes.  We can.

At least, that's the view from here...©

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN -- EVEN IN A PANDEMIC

I promised at the end of my previous post that I'd write a more upbeat post this time.  I'm not sure this is it, because this little pandemic is starting to get to people. 

I took a risk with my life this week and ventured to Lowe's Home & Garden Center to get a few container plants for the garden.  I'm not sure this was an essential trip.  I convinced myself that I'd be mostly outdoors and my mental health could benefit from seeing and buying and planting pretty flowers.  So I went.  I got a few pretties and patiently waited in the looonnngg checkout line where people were encouraged, but not required apparently, to keep a 6 ft distance.  Others who wanted to cross this long line wiggled their way through at a distance of far less than 6 ft.  Of course only about half the folks were wearing a mask, so the fact that I was was only nominally protective, but better than nothing is what I tell myself.

I finally reached the checkout booth (it's almost entirely enclosed these days).  The woman working there who appeared to be about my "grandma" age, just glared at me, not making any move to start scanning my pots.  Then she blurted, "Who picks this crap?  Do I have to listen to this shit all day?!?  Who is this anyway?  It's just screeching!" Startled, it took me a minute, but then I got it -- the overhead speaker of piped in music was rather loud and right above her work station.  "Um, yeah, well it's Cyndi Lauper.  You know...the 80's....'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'..."  She retorted, "Well I remember her; I thought she was a cute little girl, but this is just screeching.  I'm going to see who picks this music! I have to stand here all day!" 

This moment of workplace frustration  off her chest, she proceeded to scan my purchases. I fumbled with my credit card, trying not to touch anything, but then realized I'd hit the "enter" button on the card reader with my finger, then touched my credit card, so I panicked and realized I'd now contaminated my card and what was I going to do with it until I could get to my sanitizing wipes which I'd forgotten to bring?  I had some hand sanitizer in the car, but could I just squirt that on the card?  I didn't have any tissues or paper towels.

I walked away as Tom Jones' "It's Not Unusual" started up on the overhead speaker and briefly wondered if this was more to the checker's liking or just more irritation.  I also noted that everything was unusual, including being sworn to by the Lowe's checker,  being deathly afraid of my credit card, and being desperate to get to some sanitizer before I ended up on a ventilator by dinnertime. 

I got to the car, stashed my flowers in the trunk, immediately worrying about having touched the trunk latch, threw the radioactive credit card on the passenger seat, sanitized my hands, and took off.

I had decided to do my usual waterfront walk before heading home.  When I got there, I put on my mask again, sunglasses, ballcap -- I always look like a bank robber when I head out in public.   I noticed the credit card still on the seat and my first thought was, "Oh gosh!  I can't leave that in plain sight; I gotta put that in my purse!" which I did, slammed the door, and off I went. 

A hundred yards into my walk, it hit me.  I'd never sanitized the card!!!  Now I'd contaminated the entire inside of my little purse that I take on walks, which contains my driver's license, ear pods, chapstick, a couple bucks, and cell phone.  Damn!   I needed to check for messages on my cell phone since I was waiting for an important text.  Well, I decided since everything was contaminated anyway, I'd just touch my phone and NOT touch my face, which I couldn't do in any case since it was covered hairline to chin line.  I'd sanitize it all later.  I dragged my phone out of the little bag probably half dozen times in the 4+ mile walk, checking for the text and dialing into a podcast.

When I got home, I unloaded all the items onto a sheet of newspaper to ready it all for sanitizing.  Wait.  "Where's my credit card?"  In the car?  Nope.  Not in my bag.  Not anywhere since I'd gone almost nowhere.  I knew sure as the day is long that on one of the reaches in for my phone, I'd likely also pulled out the card and dropped it while on my walk. Damn!

I spent the next little while calling in to the credit card company to report a lost card, then trying to determine how many websites I'll have to contact to update payment information. 

So, no, I'm still not feeling cheerful about the pandemic.  But I do still like Cyndi Lauper.  This girl just wants to have fun too.  Puhleeze, just a little fun...

At least, that's the view from here...©

PANDEMIC UPDATE: YES, WE ARE STILL IN IT

I'm back.  I haven't really gone anywhere, since little has changed since I last wrote about the Covid crisis and lockdown.  There is is still a pandemic raging and we are still on a Stay Home/Stay Healthy order in Washington state, extended yet again until the end of May for most people, much longer for those over 65 and/or with underlying health conditions.

What has changed since I last reported stats a month ago is the number of cases and deaths.  Both have gone up:

TODAY --
Global cases:  3,810,744  Global deaths: 264,021

U.S. cases: 1,256,669   U.S. deaths: 74,121
Washington state cases: 15,594   Washington deaths: 862
My county cases:  2,549  My county deaths: 112

So when Hub found me sipping my coffee, staring out the window this morning and asked how I was doing today I said, "Pretty good."  He replied, "Well, I guess 'pretty good' is the new 'great!'"  And that is about how it feels.

How great can things really be?  Well, there are moments of greatness I guess, when for some reason a sense of normalcy and joy creeps in and I forget what is happening, or something unexpected and wonderful happens in the midst of this -- that can be something resembling great.  There are uplifting moments when I read or see stories of people being kind, generous, selfless, and loving during all of this horribleness.  It's kinda great when a TV show or a book or a funny thing on the internet takes me away to a happier time.  It's really great to talk to a nearly 35 years of friendship BFF on the phone every Tuesday.  I do believe we could laugh through the apocalypse.

But let's not forget my tendency toward anxiety and depression and my need to examine the dark side before I come back to the light.  I'm not a natural Pollyanna type.

Last week the Depression Monster grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me into the pit for a couple of days.  I had felt it stalking me for awhile.  I thought I'd fended it off.  Nope.  This time the lies it told me was that my family didn't care about me; that my regular reaching out to them with texts, messages, gifts, etc was more a bother than a support since I so rarely heard anything reciprocal from them.  I ignored the rational explanation that they already knew I was physically OK, (and my emotional well-being apparently is not on their radar screen),  that they are busy and stressed with their own life issues, that when I was in my 30s I was equally self-absorbed.  Ages and stages.  (Sorry, Mom; I get it now.)

So I spent a few "poor me" days in tears and sorrow until I got clear about an action to take -- basically stop reaching out so often, stop checking in, and hoping for news of their lives, and give them some space.  I think my impulse to offer them encouragement and support is pure -- I truly DO care and want the best for them, but with contemplation I recognized a secondary motivation being one of hope of reciprocation.  A gift with strings attached?  I need to get clear of that.

And I admit to a bit of jealousy when I hear other friends my age talk about how their adult "kids" are constantly checking in and checking up.  I think I understand on that count why ours are not....we are still a bit invincible in their eyes.  Both of us healthy, active, engaged...Hub's a retired doc for Heaven's sake.  What could we possibly need?  Again, this is familiar since my own mother was about the most stoic, strong, capable person I'd ever known....until she wasn't.  By the time it was so obvious anyone could have seen her mental decline, I had to admit I missed the early warning signs out of pure disbelief and denial.

So, with that light bulb going off, a different kind of light(ness) has re-entered the dark space, Depression gone,  and I'm back to merely the new normal dread of thinking I might die if someone breathes on me.

I leave the house only to go in our own yard and our almost daily (masked) walks in the neighborhood or at the waterfront.  I realized I was getting a bit agoraphobic, so I decided to go to Costco with Hub last week and that went fine; very few shoppers (relatively speaking), 99.9% of them wearing masks, no lines at the 6 ft spaced checkout.   I bought some new leggings and a couple of summer weight hoodies.  Haute Couture, Kirkland-brand style.

We've had two brief visits out in our yard and on the back deck with Son One and the grandgirls and Son Two and Lovely Fiance, keeping 6-12 feet away, although at one visit the 5 y/o ran toward us for the usual hug until her daddy grabbed her and reminded her to stay back, to which she said, "Oh, I forgot.  We can't touch or we will get sick."  How heartbreaking is that?  The ache to hug my granddaughters is palpable.

Nature is oblivious to the plight of humans, so spring is flowering in all its glory.  Veggies are planted in the raised beds, tomatoes growing on the sunny back deck, grass growing so fast it doesn't take long to feel like I am walking through the prairie to get to the garden.  The colors of spring are bright spots for sure.

Nicer weather also means that people are getting "quarantine fever", which in comparison to Covid Fever, will not kill you, but many are acting like it will and deciding to say 'screw it' to all these silly rules and resume life as before.  It may be impossible to express my rage at this decision, a decision that impacts everyone and prolongs this nightmare, but oh well, "freedom" is the byword of the ignorant and selfish at this point.

People are starting to gather, most don't wear masks, some are openly and proudly defiant.  And I'm just talking locally.  Nationally it's a disgraceful disaster of disregard for human suffering from the very top of government with the lives of those who are most vulnerable to this killer virus seemingly expendable in a rush to "open the country" again and get that economy moving.

I know this doesn't sound at all like my depression has lifted.  (Just think what I'd have sounded like had I posted last week!)  I'm not depressed, just taking a hard look at reality these days.  But sure, I could focus on more of the bright side.  I'll do that next time.  Promise.

At least that's the view from here...©