SAVE THE WORLD? NAH....

My "resolution" for this year was to STOP.   

I decided to stop trying to be or do anything particularly noteworthy.  Stop hoping for anything that is not happening.  In fact, I've banished "hope" from my vocabulary and emotional life.  Instead of saying "I hope..." this or that, I try to remember to say instead, "It would be nice if..."  I can hope all I want; that's not gonna make anything end up differently than how it will.  Hope feels like a wished for outcome without any real control over its realization.  

But just because I've given up on the word "hope", that doesn't mean I don't care.  Yet, sometimes I feel a wee bit like a slacker when I choose not to engage in various activities, events, conversations, commitments.  But it's getting easier the more I check in with myself and honor the answer that is already there.  Mostly that answer is: "No; not now."

I've spent most of my adult life saying "yes" to a zillion commitments.  Not only those that come to me from "outside" -- being asked to serve on a committee or join a group/organization or host a holiday gathering or go to a party. But also those that have come from within -- creating and facilitating any number groups, activities, and events that didn't exist before I imagined them into being and made them happen.

I don't regret most of those years of non-stop organizing and facilitating and working for various causes (both internal and external), but I do wish I had a some of that time back -- especially the time that ended up being compulsively perfectionistic, unwelcome, or ultimately meaningless.  I wish I had been more aware during the times I was over-calendared, stressed out, exhausted, and couldn't say "no", allowing one thing to snowball into the next.  I wish I had  been more aware of the toll it was taking on my mental and physical health and probably on my relationships.  I wish I'd taken longer breaks between one thing ending and another beginning.  

I think that might be what I'm doing now.  Or maybe it will always be like this year has been going forward.  I've continued to address my own internal life, some relationship stuff with Hub, my family and friends, but with less urgency, less desperation, less "hope".  I'm finally seeing clearly how things are.  I don't have to like it.  I do have to decide if I can live with it.  So far I can.  And with that I am more content...or getting there anyway.

As for worldly concerns, I've taken an enormous step back.  I unsubscribed to most political and non-profit outreaches.  I reluctantly turn on the nightly news -- but now the 30 minute version on network TV, not 2 hours of cable outrage political commentary every night (OK, just Monday night for my one weekly hour with Rachel Maddow, who is brilliant, funny, not outrageous, and does not yell.)  I still read the newspaper and various periodicals, but not religiously.  And yet, I still do great on the New York Times Friday News Quiz! Yay, me!  I'm not ignoring the world.  But I avoid a lot of the vitriol.  

And I'm not raising my hand to volunteer for much of anything.  The whole idea of "getting involved" sort of feels like a sucker punch to my gut.  There is a sense of pre-commitment angst just thinking about it.  I think this is maybe a PTSD reaction or an indicator of burn-out.  I just can't seem to motivate myself to be the old me.

I watch others step into action and feel some guilt.  My local Indivisible group is incredibly politically active, working for issues and candidates I support.  I know it's held together by the hard, tireless work of a few strong, amazing women.  In a former life I would have been one of them.  Now I support them financially, write postcards to local voters, go to the occasional rally -- not nearly enough support for them.  But the thought of being more involved makes me feel a sense of dread.

I watch in my own home as Hub is immersed, as he's been for more than 5 years now, in work around educating and organizing groups to address the climate crisis.  I have resented his hours of devotion to various commitments around that issue over recent years.  It seems to consume him at times.  This year I realized this will not change.  It has been the same with other "causes" over the years, even when we both were over-committed.  I changed my priorities, but he didn't in that regard.  So I have to change my perspective.  I tell myself, "He works part time/half-time." His payment isn't monetary, but it is obviously rewarding for him to be engaged in this way or he wouldn't do it.  I think of it as his job now and the hours he spends in various in-person or Zoom meetings, at the computer, on the phone talking or texting, or with email, each happening at all hours of day/evening/weekends as the need arises, are how he does his work.  His commitment is commendable and his work important.  I'm glad it's not me.

So, how do I occupy my time?   

• I'm not planning, striving, hoping, working, engaged in conflict, or losing sleep.  I don't have a calendar that rules my life; nothing is there that can't be changed or cancelled for reasons large and small.  
• I am more home and garden focused, seeking to do satisfying tasks, even the unpleasant ones, that contribute to surrounding myself with beauty and comfort.  
• I stare out my big windows appreciating my great view of the city, water, mountains and the changing sky.  
• I've befriended the neighborhood cat and love sitting with him on my porch when he visits.  
• I try to see my youngest granddaughter (8) when I can: she still thinks I'm great and fun to be with so I have to take full advantage of that while it lasts.  She's my last admirer in the family.  LOL
• I see a few treasured friends.  
• I am reading for pleasure, having re-discovered fiction, especially woman-centered novels that are not sad or terrifying.  (English mysteries are nice.)  
• I am taking care of my growing-older body, which demands more time than one would imagine -- yoga asana practice, walking, weight training, nutrition, weight loss/maintenance, flossing. LOL  
• I take some occasional solo trips and am planning some big ones with Hub for next year.  
• I am re-learning needle crafts: sewing, embroidery, and my usual crochet.  
• I write this blog.  
• I teach some online yoga philosophy and general encouragement to meditate and move.  
• I scroll Facebook.  
• I watch TV shows -- lots and lots of cooking/travel/nature shows, fun comedies,  drama that isn't based on sadness and terror. (Thanks PBS).   
• I also watch football--Go Hawks!  (We all have our inconsistencies.  LOL)

All of that sounds like the very epitome of a woman I would have previously judged unengaged, lazy,  unmotivated, privileged, maybe stupid, definitely "old".  Uh-huh.  I am privileged.  I know that.  As for the rest?  Not so much.  I feel more alive and aware than at any other time in my life.  And I've stopped feeling badly about feeling contented most of the time.  I have devoted most of my adult life to efforts to effect change in the public square.  Right now I need to just stay home, do what I can -- but not more than I can stand.  I use my privilege to try to support those who are out there fighting the good fight.  I'm learning that others will do as they do for as long as it serves them to do it.  Then the baton is passed.  I've passed the baton for now.  

But 2024 is coming....who knows what next year will bring?  

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

IN THE MINORITY

I'm definitely in the minority it seems.

This whole legalization of marijuana thing is taking off in state after state, my own being one of them.  I'm not opposed.  It's crazy how this substance has been vilified and criminalized for far too long, given some of its benefits and relative safety, compared say, to alcohol  -- or tobacco, which is deadly.  While both remain hugely destructive forces in people's lives, alcohol is still as socially-acceptable as breathing.  (Tobacco less so as people see the damage done, not to only the worst offenders, but eventually to almost everyone who smokes.)  I'm the weird one at most social gatherings for eschewing alcohol.  And now also for not indulging in the pot craze.

I get that it is relatively safe and not too addictive or destructive. (C'mon...it's NOT a gateway drug unless one is already predisposed to wanting to try as many drugs as possible, which begs the question: "What's that all about?")  When I say, "not too addictive or destructive" I'm not talking about a physical addiction, which is disproven, but my judgement does start to show.  I know plenty of people who need their daily dose to feel good about their lives or good in the moment -- not unlike a nightly glass or two or three of wine, perhaps.   And I know plenty of people who seem to be, shall we say, less motivated to ambition or clear thinking when occasionally imbibing or particularly when making their usage a regular habit.  "Pot-head" has its genesis in some reality.  Others self-assess that they handle it fine.

One thing I hear is that getting high gives one a "broader psychic perspective" and stimulates creativity.  OK.  I wonder at what point the creativity really kicks in since it seems all those good ideas fade with the high, but maybe I'm wrong....or just recalling all those nights of brilliant insight in the 70s and having not much to show for it the next day.  Maybe I'd be a better writer if I got high?  Don't know.  Don't care.

I also find it annoying, actually,  how the Boomer generation has embraced this legalization with enthusiastic giggly-ness.  There is still a modicum of disbelief that the stuff is sold in mini-mall storefronts; with senior discount days an added bonus!  For some there seems to be an "I'm being naughty" smirk about going there to score their drug.  Although as it becomes more commonplace I also notice it's done with no more excitement than stopping off for a gallon of milk.  It is amazing to realize the wide variety of types and dosages available depending on desired effect.  I visited a store with friends once and was shocked at the variety of products available -- from pot in bags, to pot in pills, to pot in gummy bears and suckers and cookies, and lotions, and potions, and rubs... Overwhelming, really, but the pot shop people are knowledgable and helpful -- like your neighborhood pharmacist.  Still, I walked out empty-handed.

Even with some guidance, however, each person responds uniquely to the strain or dose.  What's mellow for some is a horror for others.  What is a "low dose" for some puts others on their butts in a chair, unable to speak coherently.  It's a trial and error process until one finds their sweet spot, I guess.

In the illegal heyday of my 20's (in the 70's), we'd pass one or two joints around, not having any idea what we were actually smoking, and tried to see if we'd get high.  We did, but it was short-lived and mostly just caused the infamous munchies and lots of silliness.  Today, one hit can put you on your ass.  It's much more pure and much more potent.  I found this out one New Year's Eve a few years ago, right after it became legal here.  I wanted to see what all the fuss what about; why some of my friends and some in my immediate and extended family were so enamored.  I took two hits of what was supposed to be a very mild low dosage: my head started to spin, I felt sick and scared and went to bed for 4 hours.  It was awful!!!  Never again.  And I was so pissed I'd screwed up my "sobriety" for that, having quit alcohol years beforehand.  I'm not doing AA or NA or anything, so I didn't have to confess to anyone, but I was mad at myself, and vowed that I would never use intoxicants of any kind again.  I haven't.  This body is a Temple; a substance-free zone.

Which I am told can make me a wee bit judge-y.  I know it has its place -- as an anti-nausea remedy for folks on chemotherapy; as a sleep aid instead of sleeping pills; some pain relief for aches and pains (with the "high" being a bonus side-effect for those who enjoy that feeling).  But it seems to me most people just use it to get high; to alter reality.   And  I mostly try to steer clear of anyone who is obviously high, or drunk for that matter.  It makes them hard to talk to, to relate with, and they just appear ridiculous to those not mutually indulging.

And I worry that I am sounding just like an old-time-y Prohibitionist.  I'm not a prude, honestly.  But I do find that I'm not as open to things in the "vice" category as I used to be.  Upon reflection, I see now that my wilder days and the activities I engaged in were to escape from stresses, to cover for insecurity, to fit in, to feel fun or sexy or "crazy" in a way that was not really me, but that I thought should be....all the usual reasons for dulling one's senses.  I've worked damned hard on my personal and spiritual growth to the point that I now don't need or want those things in my life.  Being clear-eyed, clear-headed, and open-hearted is trippy enough in this crazy world.

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


DISCLAIMER/CONFESSION:  I have used CBD oil/creme (the non-intoxicating part of the plant) to alleviate pain in my knee and migraine headache. They even sell it at local pharmacies now.  It contains trace amounts of THC, but I don't feel any effect from that, while I do get some pain relief, which is great.  So there's that.

Also, for the uninitiated, here's a link to a menu at a local pot shop.  Sheesh!  https://snohomish-menu.budhut.net