Category: Current events
Tuesday, Nov 3, 2020 | Current events, Music, Politics, Work |
How is anyone getting any work done today?
I write this on Election Day in the United States, November 3rd. Yet I passed today much like I do every other week day. I got up at 6:30, brushed and flossed, did my comical warmup exercises, which include 10 burpees, and then went for a run in the park. It wasn’t dark, due to the time change, and I decided that I prefer running in the dark, even though it’s a bit creepy. When it’s dark I’m not distracted by the scenery. I don’t keep wanting to stop and take photos. In the dark it feels like I might still be asleep, in a dream-state. There are sections where the path is completely unlit and I can’t see the terrain, and it feels like I’m floating rather than running, because I have no idea where or when exactly my feet will land. If that sounds terrible, it’s not. It’s a sensation quite lovely and strange. Lovely because it’s strange.
Where will my feet land?
Oh, to circle back to those burpees: I’ve been doing 10 burpees a day since July and they are EXACTLY as hard to do as they were on day one. I’m literally getting no better at burpees.
On my run, I listened to my “Run Fast” playlist. This morning’s favourites included The Weeknd’s “In Your Eyes,” and “House Party” by Neon Dreams. I stretched back at home, feeling some familiar twinges in my lower back and hip. Ugh. Then it was yoga in the living-room with Kevin and Annabella, who had just finished exercising with the Wii: Just Dance has suddenly become popular in our house. You never know what a day will bring.
Hope? Hope? Hope?
Shower, breakfast (porridge), listened to part of The Daily, read the Globe and Mail, coffee. Laundry. Watched Seth Meyers. Settled into office. Promptly exchanged texts with friends who were also trying to settle into their offices. At last, put on headphones and tuned into my “Lynda Barry playlist,” which helped me to tune out everything else. Sort of.
More laundry. Lunch was leftovers. I did some stretching on my office floor while watching Colbert.
I’m working on revising my novel and to my great surprise, I actually managed to find my way into it. Granted, the work I did today is probably crap, but at least I was there, in that other world, and I stayed there for a few hours.
Emails. Talked with various children as they wandered into my vicinity.
Angus is cooking supper. He’s been cooking every Tuesday this fall, gaining new skills each week. Last week, he learned how to cook beans from scratch and made refried beans. He’s also learned how to make lentil soup; lasagna; oven-fried chicken with waffles; a roux; and some other things I’m forgetting. Tonight, he’s making fresh rolls with tofu and a peanut sauce.
That catches us up. I haven’t checked the news for hours. But I’ll be tuning in soon enough. It’s almost time to take off my headphones.
Hey. I’m okay, you’re okay. When all the excitement and fuss is in the past, no matter the results, we’ll still have to figure out how to talk to each other, listen to each other, care about people other than our nearest and dearest, make reparations for our wrongs, and try not to destroy this planet we live on even further. We’ve got a lot to do. My work matters, your work matters. Distractions can’t fool us into thinking otherwise.
Sunday, Nov 1, 2020 | Big Thoughts, Confessions, Current events, Fall, Family, Lists, Local Food, Politics, Spirit, Work |
- What felt good this month? This is a challenging question to start with. It’s been a hard month. What’s felt good? There have been some things! Methodically digging into my novel-rewrite has felt good and necessary. Writing a reflective essay for The Scales Project was absolutely wonderful. Thankfully, my long-established habits and routines have kept me afloat: running and yoga, even if the morning runs now happen in the dark. No matter how bleak I’ve felt, I get out of bed and exercise at an early hour, five mornings a week. Hanging out in Kevin’s “back yard shack” is the best, especially with friends. On Fridays, Kevin and I have been ordering take-out and eating outside by the fake fire, just the two of us. And my studio is a warm, welcoming cocoon to retreat to, for writing, planning, reading, stretching, relaxing, napping.
- What did you struggle with? Depression, in all honesty. I had some lows that felt lower than usual, and I stayed low longer. Thankfully, I was able to reach out and get help. And the help helped. I noticed that what also helped was digging more deeply into my writing work. It was a life raft, keeping me afloat, giving me purpose when the days felt otherwise blank and empty. Cooking and chores actually helped too. I think it’s a privilege to be needed, or to feel certain that one’s work is valuable and valued. I’m not always convinced of that, and that’s when I fall down into the deepest holes. This feels like a pretty dark confession. But I’m compelled to say these things out loud, because shame thrives on silence, and because I think others may be feeling similarly, especially anyone who’s lost their job, or is in a liminal period in their life. Purpose and meaning make life worthwhile. It can be hard to function without being connected to that.
- Where are you now compared to the beginning of the month? I can’t really grasp where I was at the beginning of the month, which makes it difficult to compare. Apparently I was feeling calm at the end of September? Given that I’m on about draft five of trying to answer this question, what I’m feeling right now seems to be distracted, discombobulated, and wondering what the heck is going to happen. The American election is three days away, and I’m feeling wary of false optimism, and wary of “endings,” especially of this belief in some definitive happy ending that appears as if by magic. If the pandemic has taught me anything, it’s that the answers in a crisis, as in ordinary life, change with the circumstances, require monitoring and reassessment, and must shift to take many factors into consideration. In other words: there are no easy answers. Related to this, at least in my confused mind: It seems a particularly American flaw to admire the huckster, the grifter, the entertainer, the fraud — the person who can make a buck out of nothing more than a talent for deception — and even though I’m a fiction writer, I don’t believe in personal deception as a solution to life’s challenges.
- How did you take care of yourself? Meditation, podcasts, reading silly mysteries, stretching, naps on my warm office floor, kundalini yoga, walks with friends, running, yoga, a regular bedtime, beer on the weekends.
- What would you most like to remember? I’m not going to remember much from this last month. But one really happy memory is the afternoon I drove the kids out to the country to pick up our Thanksgiving turkey. It was raining, the turkey line was long, and absolutely no one complained. The kids went over to the barn area and watched the chickens, pigs, and cows, and petted the dogs. No one was in a rush. The outing was mellow, chilled-out, and completely satisfying, and would only have happened in covid-times, when we’re all kind of starved for entertainment and stimulation, and a drive to the country to watch a chicken drink from a waterspout counts as memorable.
- What do you need to let go of? I’ll let go of my need for things to happen, maybe. Or no. I’ll let go of my need for things to happen in a particular way, according to expectation. I’ll celebrate when I respond according to my values, and forgive myself for not being perfect or better or best.
Thursday, Oct 8, 2020 | Big Thoughts, Coaching, Confessions, Current events, Exercise, Fall, Manifest, Meditation, Peace, Running, Spirit, Success, Word of the Year |
Be clear with yourself. It’s a practice worth practicing.
Be clear even when it’s uncomfortable. Be clear, even if you’re worried you’re letting someone else down.
This week has not been my best (see previous post …), but I’ve been noticing that it helps, in uncomfortable moments, to ask myself: What do you want to do? Are you doing it?
I almost always know the answer.
And just asking brings me into the present moment.
I can say, yes, this is actually what I want to be doing. Or hell no, it’s not.
If I am doing what I want to do, it becomes so much easier to keep doing it, but with a new perspective, a feeling of agency and freedom. Hey, this is what I’ve chosen to do! Maybe it’s harder than I expected, or maybe it’s not bringing up the feelings I’d anticipated, but I want to do it, I’ve chosen to do it, so I’m going to get on with doing it.
If it’s not, I can dig a bit, and find out whether the situation is changeable; often it is, even if it isn’t. By which I mean, often, the thing I’m doing that I don’t want to do is made less tolerable by what’s going on inside my head. An imaginary conversation. A pointless outrage. An excited or anxious or fraught connection to something that actually has no connection to my immediate well-being.
So, I ask:
Are you okay?
What do you want to do?
(And I remind myself: Don’t worry about what you think everyone else might want you to do — let go of imaginary projections. What do you, Carrie Anne Snyder, want to do?)
Oh. Okay, well, I’m right here, running in the rain, and what I want is to take the long way home, and there’s time, and my body can handle it, and now that I know these things, I’m feeling the rain and the wind on my face, and the breath in my lungs, and I’m okay. I know I’m okay. This is what I want to do, and I’m doing it.
Tuesday, Oct 6, 2020 | Confessions, Current events, Manifest, Spirit |
Confession: Today, it feels like I’m totally out of juice. I’m out of steam. I’m bored of myself. I’ve reached an intense sensation of ENOUGH! My impatience with, well, everything that seems to cross my field of vision is competing only with my indifference. It’s unusual that I feel like I don’t care. Today, I don’t care. I just want to be finished with the presidency of Donald Trump, and also the pandemic, and, autocracy and incompetence and gaslighting and gilded mediocrity and the racism infecting all of our systems. I’m done with people going hungry in countries like ours where there should be enough. I’m finished with people getting rich off people being poor. My own life is pretty sweet and easy. Objectively, I’ve had a pretty sweet and easy day, writing, biking, running, laundry, helping a kid make supper. So I shouldn’t feel done or tired or like switching off. But I do. I hope this too shall pass. This too shall pass, right? But what comes next and will it get worse, and sadder and harder? There are some people I want to hug.
Wednesday, Sep 30, 2020 | Art, Big Thoughts, Blogging, Books, Current events, Death, Drawing, Exercise, Fall, Feminism, Fire, Friends, Lists, Manifest, Meditation, Organizing, Peace, Politics, Reading, Running, Space, Spirit, Work, Writing, Yoga |
Drawing a flower with CJ.
- What felt good this month? At the beginning of the month, it felt wonderful to be on holiday (we spent two weeks away at an isolated cottage). As always, I hoped to bring that holiday-feeling home; but inevitably it has slipped. I can’t drink a caesar while cooking supper every day! It isn’t even possible to keep up the habit of twice-daily yoga. But it is possible to get up early every week day morning for a walk or run, followed by yoga. It’s also been blissful to take charge of my studio space, to clean and organize and purge and paint, and to set new goals. And we have kept the holiday-feeling going in small ways: Kevin bought a fake fire pit (propane-powered) and we’ve been sitting outside some nights, watching the flames, listening to tunes.
- What did you struggle with? After rejigging my studio, I panicked—as if I didn’t deserve the space, full of fear and doubt about my work and worth as a writer. But then I journaled, meditated, and went for a dog walk with Kevin, and I came out the other side. It helped to reframe my work through the window of books. Books are my life’s work. If I feel unmoored, I can ground myself by reading, writing, or connecting with others who read and write. I am so thankful for this blog as a place to come to, to share ideas, and experiment, too. I am so thankful for each one of you who reads. Thank you.
- Where are you now compared to the beginning of the month? Unexpectedly calm. When my mind spirals away, caught in fear or doubt or shame, I notice, and find a safe branch on which to land. I breathe. I think: Is this true? What’s really happening right now? Are you okay? Is there anything you need to do? I’ve noticed, too, that projects are so very satisfying to work on and complete: my mind is soothed, no matter the task. Cleaning out the bathroom cupboards. Cooking a meal from scratch. Painting a door. Writing a grant application. Revising a story to send to my writing group. In this way, small accomplishments accrue, and the days flow peacefully, but don’t feel dull. And in the evenings, I reward myself with some stretching, watching a show, reading, eating popcorn, letting my mind and body relax. (Note: this is so much easier to achieve now that I’m not coaching! I do not take my easy evenings for granted!)
- How did you take care of yourself? All of the above. Plus, remembering to reach out to friends. Working on my posture, and core strength. Sticking with established healthy routines. Putting away the pairs of jeans that don’t fit anymore. Thanking my body for carrying me through this life. I ask a lot of my body! I am in total awe that my chronic running injury has healed through physio, and that I’m able to run fast again, without pain, at least for now. Every morning run through the park is a full-body expression of thanks.
- What would you most like to remember? It’s okay if I don’t remember very much from this time. Sometimes the best days aren’t super memorable—I don’t remember much when inside the flow, but if I’m fortunate, from the flow will emerge some work of substance, or a strengthened relationship, or deepening insight and capacity for approaching conflict, suffering and pain. I will remember where I was when Ruth Bader Ginsberg died; and my own sadness and immediate despair. But I’ll remember just as much that her passing sparked a renewed connection with one of my beloved American cousins. I’ll remember, too, what she worked toward: equality for all, a far-seeing, long road of commitment that developed from her own experiences, that was encouraged to develop through the support of her husband and family, and that extended till her death. Like John Lewis, she is a true role model of character and vision, beyond the self.
- What do you need to let go of? I deactivated my Twitter account a week ago, after watching The Social Dilemma on Netflix. I also turned off most of the app notifications on my phone. It’s been good, and I hope it lasts. What I’ve noticed: I’m freed to work with more focus throughout the day. But I’m also not filling my mind with fury and outrage, the primary emotions sparked by “doom-scrolling.” True, there’s less to distract me from my own restlessness and boredom, but here’s the strangest part: I’ve felt less restless, less bored, since signing off. There are more productive and meaningful ways to connect with others in this world. I commit to choosing those instead.
Wednesday, Sep 23, 2020 | Blogging, Confessions, Current events, Exercise, Family, Green Dreams, Lists, Manifest, Meditation, Peace, Poetry, Politics, Spirit, Stand |
The darkest hour is before the dawn (says who?), but I don’t think we’re there yet. Our planet flares with alarms, and I keep scrolling the news like it’s entertainment. Like it’ll make a difference to know more and more, somehow. Like I’ll reach the end and go: there, done, at last, problem solved! 1
(Anonymous commenter: “The darkest hour is actually midnight.”)
The equality we’ve fought for is tenuous, incomplete, and may erode further. What hope is there that we humans on planet Earth will work together, pull together, row in a direction that honours difference, blesses the frail, lifts up everyone who is in pain? Where does it hurt? What’s your story? 2
Vote? Of course! I’ve got my ballot filled in, ready to mail back to Ohio. I will take deep breaths and hope. One voice, one gesture, one act of faith. But VOTE is not enough to fix what’s broken. Dividing, degrading, self-dealing; cynicism. What does democracy mean? For the people, by the people? Also, a corporation is a person?? Also, send more money? 3
Don’t pretend the end justifies the means. We live in the means! If you lie and cheat to win, you’re not a winner, you’re a liar and a cheat. If the only way to win is at all-costs, I’d rather be the sucker who spoke her heart and lost. 4
My heroes are the ones who saw the long road ahead and walked onward toward a light and promise they knew wouldn’t be found in their own lifetimes. Or maybe ever. But they saw it and articulated it. Our better selves. Where everyone will have enough, and dignity too. 5
Where love not greed rules. What I see: my brothers sisters friends strangers the ground underfoot the air trees stars the living oceans are of me and I of them. All of us humans are flawed, broken, in need. To share is to receive but also to give. 6
Look at this bountiful world. End
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