From
California
I’ve
been an inconsistent diarist. Sometimes the only note for the day is a brief list
of what happened with some occasional light commentary which I normally do
wherever I am. Usually this list is just the big highlights from the day and
not necessarily everything that happened or everything I did. [A sample from
4.4.20 catalogs this: Cleaned house. Read to girls. Played games. Watched 2
episodes of The Get Down. Rainy Day.]
The
set up for my Quarantine experience is this:
The
last of February, I left Texas and arrived to California.
The
weekend of February 29-March 1, I hung out with a friend who had come into San
Francisco by cruise ship from Europe via South and Central America. We joked a
little about the virus. We talked more seriously about viral implications. We
did some sightseeing. My second day aboard the docked ship there was a hand
sanitizer dispenser at the entrance to the vessel. Applying sanitizer before
getting on the ship was mandatory. It seemed a good, sensible precaution. That
night, I bid my ship friend goodbye and went across the Bay Bridge to stay with
my good friends (a Judo teammate/BFF from my Colorado days, his lovely wife
also now a BFF of mine, their 11 year old daughter, and their 9 year old daughter)
who have a standing invitation for me for short or long-term visits. I’d
planned to stay with them for an unspecified amount of time, maybe get a job,
maybe start writing another book, maybe move on to somewhere else. I was
playing it by ear. They were (and are) gracious enough to play things by ear
along with me.
On
Wednesday, March 11, I went with them to the older daughter’s middle school wrestling
dual meet during which it was suggested by the hosting school that maybe there
should be no spectators even though many of the parents had driven an hour or
so to get there. This was a first indication that our lives might actually be
affected by the virus. Right or wrong, and given the choice by the host, we
decided to stay and watch.
On
Friday, March 13, one of the daughters was allowed to stay home from school.
The other daughter chose to go. On that day, I didn’t know if staying home was
being paranoid or wise. I (and we) didn’t want to be fear-mongerers, but I (and
we) also wanted to protect ourselves and others.
By Monday,
March 16, the Bay Area schools had gone to distance-learning and we were all
home together. Although I hadn’t planned to move on from California by any
specific or quick date, it quickly become apparent that I was here for the
duration of this thing. Spoiler alert: overall, it’s been very good here. Even
with all the uncertainty, I’ve felt very lucky to be with people I love and who
love me.
For
much of this Quarantine my diary entries have been sporadic (except for the
calendar square summaries—as listed above from 4.4.20—which I make every day) as
I learned to adjust my usual work-from-home schedule to accommodate others
being at home with me. And as I learned to deal with the doubts, the fear, the
strangeness, and the beauty of this world-wide experience.
Starting
from March 11, as that day was the sort of kick off for my quarantine
experience, I’m listing both my calendar square summaries and longer entries. This
might all be very boring. For the most part, my life is generally simple,
mostly disciplined, and good. So, in many ways, not much has changed for me by
being “locked-in.”
Although
I take my writing quite seriously, I consider journaling and diary-keeping a
different type of work from my book/story projects. For me, my diary is just a
place to record my day-to-day activities, to jot down thoughts I have, to jot
down other people’s words or ideas that speak to me in some way, to clear out
the mess in my head, and to process (or keep for remembering) dreams or
experiences. My note-keeping can be both very personal and very matter of fact.
During this Quarantine, I have done a handful of longer journal entries of
which I’ll give some excerpts. For all of this, and as a warning, I’m exhibiting
great restraint by not heavily editing as I go. The restraint is tough because it’s
been my experience that good writing is a result of strong and deep editing. Still,
here I want to keep the feel of the moment rather than a more precise and
processed after-evaluation of events and emotion. So, all that said, much of
this is stream of consciousness or just a notation of something I don’t want to
forget. In all its mess, somehow, it makes sense to me.
Of course,
this isn’t a usual blog. But this also isn’t a usual time. If anything, listing
all of this here gives me a way to see myself and my thoughts during a time
that is both similar to how I often live and so wildly different. Maybe in some
odd way the minutiae of my life can be entertaining or even comforting to you.
3.11.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Talked to Dad.
Edited The Good Uncles of Courtney Dune from page 268 to 319. Dual Meet -Wrestling
in Albany.
3.11.20
8:33
A.M.
Trembling
like pins and needles
electricity
The
body electric
That’s
life
Vibration
Energy
Saying
I will live
This
life to the fullest
Feeling
the life in the breath
in
the moving of the blood
in
the flex of an arm
in
the bending of a leg
3.11.20
8:40
A.M.
Being
here
Present
Time
to heal
and distance
3.11.20
9:00
A.M.
To
leave the world a little better than when I came into it.
3.12.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Hung out with
Amy – Hike/walk 1.67 miles. Tea/coffee time afterwards. Talked with Mom. Edited
TGUCD from page 272 to 321.
3.12.20
7:10
A.M.
Rainer
Maria Rilke Sonnets to Orpheus II.29
Translation
by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows
Quiet
friend who has come so far,
feel
how your breathing makes
more
space around you.
Let
this darkness be a bell
tower
and
you the bell. As you ring
what
batters you becomes your
strength.
Move
back and forth into the
change.
What
is it like, such intensity
of
pain?
If
the drink is bitter, turn
yourself
into wine.
In
this uncontainable night,
be
the mystery at the
crossroads
of your senses,
The
meaning discovered there.
And
if the world has ceased to
hear
you,
say
to the silent earth: I flow.
To
the rushing water, speak: I
am.
3.12.20
8:09
A.M.
I
live my life in widening circles.
3.13.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. TGUCD Edit from
page 294 to 323. Stevie’s parents over in afternoon and stayed until after
dinnertime. L home from school. Our unofficial start of Corona Virus stay at
home time.
3.14.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. House cleaning
day. TGUCD edit from page 306 to 323. Started working on a puzzle. Watched
Yesterday.
3.15.20
Day Summary
Amy’s
bday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Talked briefly to Phin. Talked to Amy. Rainy day. Worked on TGUCD
edit—finished first pass through of 2nd draft.
3.15.20
9:28
A.M.
Being
a gentle person in a harsh world.
3.15.20
10:11
A.M.
To
calm reactions into responses.
Peace.
Peace. Peace.
Looking
for stillness in the midst of chaos.
Breathe.
Inhale,
one, two, three, four.
Hold,
one, two.
Exhale,
one, two, three, four, five, six.
To
be the water on the fire.
I
don’t have to be perfect.
I
can do my best in a situation
but
I don’t have to overthink it.
Handling
my own crises. As they come.
Wanting
to kintsukuroi myself
So
that I’m together again
And
shining.
3.16.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. 2 walks. 1
alone and 1 with A and the girls. Talked to Mom. Read. Made soup for dinner. Official
start of compliance with the Shelter in Place Order with all of us at home.
3.17.20
Day Summary
St.
Patrick’s Day. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French.
Russian. Spanish. Talked to Siafu, Amy, Michaela. Sat in the sunshine. Walked
in rain with A and SJ. 1.60 miles.
3.18.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Looked for Bday
vids for Dad. Walked in backyard 2.00 miles while listening to podcast. Watched
Jumanji: The Next Level.
3.18.20
10:12
P.M. Wednesday
Friday
things begin to seem heavy.
Stevie
lets Leanza stay home from school
Then
Monday school is all home-based—officially.
San
Francisco is under a Shelter in Place Order
We’re
hunkered in.
Falling
away from reactionaries
deflating,
breathing, talking self down
Chocolate
was a good thing today.
And
a 2.0 mile walk while listening to an interview.
Being
outside, in motion. For a moment being
free.
3.19.20
Day Summary
Dad’s
Bday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Did laundry. Talked to Dad. Felt worried about food stuff. Read.
Walked. Played patio-table ping-pong. Worked puzzle.
3.19.20
10:42
P.M.
Dear
self,
I’m
here with you
You’re
okay
It’s
going to be okay
3.20.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Got Groceries
from Whole Foods. Talked to Michaela, Mom, Grandmama. Outside reading in the
sunshine.
3.20.20
1:20
P.M.
Feeling
more at ease after loading up on my own groceries.
Taking
control of my own life, my own health, my own needs.
No
reason to act powerless.
Weird
having to work through laziness, helplessness—justifying
things
against the safety. Knowing when to take action and
when
to be still.
Wanting
the whole world to be well.
There’s
comfort in green tea.
Trying
to release all energies that rile and collect fear like
static
electricity.
Breathe.
Now
be at peace.
Grateful
for food. For a place to be. For friends to be with.
For
care and comfort to share.
Strange
to think that the not knowing/the not having a next thing/next plan
actually
is good now that I’m staying in place
3.20.20
To
Do
nWrite blog
nDraw pic for
Phin’s birthday
oStart new book project
nReread TGUCD for
edit
oPost positive
vids
3.21.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read most of
the day. Talked to Phinehas and Grandmama.
3.22.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Talked to Jan. Frisbee
at park with A and the girls. Read. Watched Onward.
3.23.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read. Did some
Judo with the girls. Played games.
3.24.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Worked on Cthulhu
drawing for Phinehas’s birthday. Talked to Phinehas. Games in evening.
3.24.20
Brief
notes for March’s blog:
Better
ways to live from now on
Stay
at home
“Must
weigh the cost of being wrong against the chance of being wrong.”
- Dr. Jordan L. Shlain
Small
(or large) acts of kindness and love
3.25.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Worked on blog.
1.30 miles neighborhood walk with A and the girls. Talked to Mic. 1 hour
journaling.
3.25.20
2:12
P.M. Excerpts from 1 hour journaling exercise:
Didn’t
feel the unease until I talked with M. Wanted to berate her for being out. For
shopping only for orange juice. Is it an essential? Can I recommend something
without being judgmental? Let this feeling be a bell tower. Rilke said
something about a bell tower. Let the clapper be you. And the pain something
else. And the swirling angels be terrifying. Let us not just look out for
ourselves but for the whole world. Where the heron feeds and the duck swims.
Where pain is a memory. Or a reminder to do something good. We have to think
forward. Don’t want to be wrong. Don’t want to be attacked for saying anything.
Want to be kind. To be good. It’s this wanting to be good and to encourage
everyone else to be good. Good all around. Respectful of life. Of living
creatures. Not ruled by subdue and rule. By fruitful and multiply. We already
tried that. And how can we be kind. We, we who? I. I. How can I be kind? With
no expectations for others to be like me. With all expectations of showing
anyone how life is precious. Is it? As a friend of mine might ask.
Tired.
Peace. Peace. Where is peace?
If
not peace, is there hope? I don’t want to be in a world of ugliness. But if
that’s what there is – is it better to see it or to be illusioned? Blinded.
With blinders on. I have to believe that we are all capable of making the
beneficial choice. I have to believe in the underlying good. Or else what? Or
else it’s not a world I want to be a part of. Do you think Bob Ross or Mister
Rogers or Steve Irwin felt that? That touch of despair?
And
what is good anyway? Just because anything doesn’t serve humanity that doesn’t
invalidate its existence. I wish everyone would see that. Minor gifts of art. A
gift of a drawing because it means time. A gift of a conversation. To give up
the need to be right. We can just be. And that’s enough. That should be enough.
For everything. Why does the world have to react? We just got too full. Too
caught up in the pre-evolved, Neolithic behaviors. Cave people behaviors. Those
don’t benefit the collective.
How
to comfort the grieving? To connect with the lonely? To acknowledge that change
is hard for all of us? To be that beautiful change I want to see in the world.
To stand in the honor and confidence that I am not harming. That my own and
very existence has not been a waste of breath. We are all doing the best that
we can. And we can all be just a little bit better.
Take
a breath. Find the rhythm of the earth’s breathing. Of the pulse of space. Of a
heartbeat. Of rest. I want the world to rest and recover without the turmoil.
Without economic distress. For slowing down to be the answer. Don’t trees reach
up and down at the same time?
Wipe
us clean and start again.
Feeling
like a not normal human. Is this evolution? Rising above survival.
What
do you want?
I
want to be the still center. The eye of the storm. In the hub of an 8-spoke
wheel. Not turned with chaos, not harmed. What is darkness, what is fear, but a
friend. But an instructor. Where we can choose. There is always a choice. In
the lapping water. In the sigh, the cry of the wind. In the voice of a bird. In
the song of a cricket, a frog, a bat. What do any of us want to say?
Is
this all just grief? Grief for being in the midst of change. Grief for dis-ease,
distress, desire. Grief for the grinding conflict of iron sharpening iron. A
spilling of words. Of collective not knowing. What do we do in the unknown?
Where being outside is not a punishment, where the earth, the living, all
living things are our friends. The earth is not hostile. The universe is not
indifferent. All is, all is indifferent but us.
We can
choose to feel. That is what hurts. That is what complicates. When drinking tea
is all you do. When feeling the sun is all you feel. When listening to another
is all you hear. When the moment is pure. All of life is uncertain. This breath
and this one. Let’s be kind from one moment to the next. Please, let us be
kind. And in the moments when we don’t know what to do, let us fall back on
kindness. Let that be what we know. Let that be what supports and comforts and drives
us. It’s not that hard, is it? Doing all things right. Moving from one moment
to the next with grace and love.
All
those tenets of a faith practice. Faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of
these is love. And is that true? Finding stillness. Is love greater than hope?
If hope is gone can we still love? Do love and hope require faith? Faith in
ourselves. Is that disillusionment? So what if it is? Spilling out words.
Finding space within me. Space to rest, to breathe, to feel, to stop, to listen,
to relax. Be at peace.
Just
being where I am. And finding that when I have to, I can rest where I am. I
cannot move on, therefore, here I am. What’s important in the end? Stories?
Always stories. The story of the wind over the mountains. The story of the stars’
song. The story of the distance and time it takes for the sun’s light to reach
the cover of my skin. For the grass to grow. For the world to sigh and calm. To
splash through the wisping touch of the ocean’s waves at its shallowest point.
To feel at one with self. With all. With nothing. To ask for peace and to
expect it. Is there more than that?
To
travel if only by imagination. To know how lucky I am to carry my work inside
of me at all times. To be one who can be still. Like a tree. Like the passing
of time. Like the travel of wind. Like the touch of sound.
Where
in the world would you want to be when the Collective came to a halt?
How
can we be joyful there? Linked in joy. Laughing as much as possible. Sure,
crying when that needs to happen. Feeling all that needs to be felt. Responding
rather than reacting. Is there such a thing as overresponding?
Where
is peace but in story? Story. Own story. Other story. Collective story.
When
it comes down to the end, what will be said? We all did the best that we could
do. That should be enough. It just means that we have to always be giving our
all. Looking into the distance to see what comes.
The
wonder of life. The very wonder of being alive. That is what we must tap into.
Watching a shadow dance on the wall. Running alongside life. Keeping pace with
life. Reaching for death, not running away in fear. Always okay with the unknown.
So full of life. Filled to the very brim. Filled to bursting. Let the sound,
let the light, let the darkness when its turn comes also be my friend. Thank
you. I love you.
When?
Now. Why? Because. How? This way. What? Everything. Where? Here. The answers
are right in front of my face.
3.26.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Texted with
Katie. Called in to cancel CO jury duty summons. Read. 2 mile walk with fam.
3.27.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Talked to
Siafu. Facetimed with Nancy and Thatcher. Worked on blog. Read 72 pages of
TGUCD out loud to the girls. Watched Remember the Titans.
3.28.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. 1 hour of
journaling. Read. Read up to page 156 of TGUCD to the girls. Lowkey day inside.
3.28.20
11:36
A.M. Excerpts from 1 hour journaling exercise:
Staying
still. Trying to find my rhythm in each day. Fitting in with the people I’m
around and yet also living my own existence. Balancing work against all else
that’s around. Judging work. Reading out loud to the girls – my own story and
it seems weird and natural. What else are stories for but to pass the time?
Global.
Local. Significant. All is significant to the one in the middle of something.
Sorting through the noise. Finding stillness and silence inside myself because
it’s nowhere else at the moment. Energy being released by children comes at a
different decibel level than from many others. There’s music involved. Math.
The languages that don’t simply speak. In time. Writing the words that come to
mind. They are scattered.
Wendel
Berry and a poem about hope. Hope is essential. Without it, death is a great
comfort.
Learning
a well of silence. Seeking solitude and safety within written words. For they
can’t scream in your ears or make your body tense with fearful anticipation.
What’s the work? Healing of the past. Interpreting alien text. A spinner of
stories. Spinning stories makes what happen for a character? What
happens? Why is there conflict? We saw your message on the moon. What does it
mean? We came in peace for all mankind.
3.29.20
Day Summary
Phinehas’s
birthday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. 1 hour journaling. 2 mile afternoon walk. Talked to Phinehas. Read to
girls up to page 243. Did Tiktok dance with fam. Literary Agent requested full
manuscript of Seizure the Day!
3.29.20
8:18
A.M. Excerpts from 1 hour journaling exercise:
Dreams
of ex-boyfriends, old jobs, houses that need to be cleaned and worked on. Of
being close, too close in proximity to people and not getting a disinfectant
wipe quickly enough for my liking. Of being told that my knowledge of the Corona
Virus is all wrong and actually responding in my dream with, “Tell me then
where I’m wrong.”
Waking
up heavy and with a block in the third eye. A heavy feeling. Is it the weather?
My body’s own discomforts? The being in one place and around a schedule not
quite my own? Or rather, not only my own. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re
okay. You are not with an ex-boyfriend. You are doing what you can in many
ways. It was just a dream.
Get
those dusty, uncomfortable dreams out.
Why
can’t it just rain heavy and be done with it?
Be
at ease. Be easy. Go easy. Have some fun for once in your life. Lighten up. Don’t
take yourself so seriously. Is time just a construct? Today is going to be a
beautiful day. The weather could be stormy but I don’t have to carry it inside
me.
Who
else besides wizards have so much power?
Think
your thoughts. Write them down. Dispelling heaviness, darkness, dreams like
baby spiders blowing away on the strings of the wind.
No
need to rush or do everything at once. Smile. Lighten up. Lighter than air like
hydrogen and helium. Flammable like hydrogen. Like one hundred percent pure oxygen.
Lighter. Not floating, yet, not weighted down and not so heavy. Here I am. Present
and accounted for.
3.30.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Posted blog.
Finished out loud read of The Good Uncles of Courtney Dune to girls. Talked
with Amy. Received rejection from a Literary Agency for Seizure the Day.
3.30.20
11:56
P.M.
I
dreamed I was with Ellen DeGeneres and Andy Lassner. I somehow got to go wherever
they were going. To do that, I got on a bus and sat one seat over from Andy.
Ellen was delayed by something—we were waiting for her. Then Andy scooted over
next to me to open an easier seat for Ellen and I was a little disappointed. I’d
wanted to sit right next to her.
Then
later, somewhere else off the bus, Ellen, standing behind me, says, “I’ll have
to keep you around.” or something like that because I’d made some quip that
she’d thought was funny.
3.31.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Puzzle working.
Games. 2.10 mile walk with A and the girls. Sidewalk chalking time.
4.1.20
Day Summary
April
Fools’ Day. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Posted Patreon stats. Talked to Amy, Mic, Grandmama, Mom. Jump rope
workout with A and the girls. 60 Uchikomis. S got groceries. Received rejection
from a Literary Agency for Seizure the Day.
4.2.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Worked on edit
for friend’s book. Talked to Mic, Siafu, Phin, Gmama, Rachel. Texted others. Read
to girls. Worked on puzzle. Watched TV shows with fam.
4.3.20
Day Summary
Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French.
Russian. Spanish. Finished edit on friend’s book (5 hours total). Started read of
Prydain Chronicles Book 1 to girls. Talked to Mic and Gmama. Watched The Get
Down. Worked puzzle.
4.4.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Cleaned house.
Read to girls. Played games. Watched 2 episodes of The Get Down. Rainy day.
4.5.20
Day Summary
Palm
Sunday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Rainy day. Read. Read to girls. Uchikomis on crash mat. TV-Zoom game
night with S, A, and S’s cousins.
4.6.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Some edits on
TGUCD. Read. Read out loud to girls. Walked neighborhood 2.05 miles. Worked on
puzzle.
4.7.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. 10:00 A.M. talk
with Pontus. Talked with Amy. Finished The Black Cauldron reading out loud to
girls. Worked puzzle.
4.8.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read last of
Little, Big by John Crowley. Started The Castle of Llyr with girls. 1.50 miles
neighborhood walk with SJ. Games. Worked on puzzle. Received rejection from a Literary
Agency for Seizure the Day.
4.9.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read. Talked to
Mom. Talked to Ben. Read to girls. S and A went to Costco for groceries.
Finished watching The Get Down.
4.10.20
Day Summary
Good
Friday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Did laundry. Talked to Michaela. Finished The Castle of Llyr with the
girls. Read. Watched Trolls World Tour. Made mung bean and rice soup.
4.10.20
10:45
P.M.
S’obnubiler
Obnubilate
Obnubilate
= darken, dim, or cover with or as if with a cloud; obscure
[s’obnubiler
read in the book Pars vite et reviens tard by Fred Vargas]
4.11.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read most of
the day. Finished Mister Rogers book by Gavin Edwards. Started Taran Wanderer
with girls.
4.12.20
Day Summary
Easter
Sunday. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Annabelle came over (joined our circle of quarantine). Read to girls.
Talked to Phin, Gmama, Uncle Jeff. Zoom call with Mom, Dad, Steve, and Jan.
4.13.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read all day to
myself and out loud to the girls. Worked on puzzle. Talked to Siafu and Amy.
4.14.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Kaspersky renewed.
Feeling fat. Neighborhood walk 4.15 miles. Read to girls. Finished Taran
Wanderer. Made more mung bean and rice soup. Talked to Phin. Talked to Gmama.
4.15.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Talked to Mom. Took
walk with SJ 1.42 miles. Read to girls. Finished reading book about River
Phoenix.
4.16.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read to girls.
1.58 miles neighborhood walk. Read. Talked to Phin – he’s disgruntled. Did
laundry. Girls bickered. Punished by being sent to camp-sleep outside (they
came back in after 1 hour).
4.16.20
5:16
P.M.
Weird
dreams.
Strange,
violent—one child being saved only for another to have its head severed. No way
to go back from that.
Walks
in the jungle. A jaguar or other clawed animal lays its paws against my head. I
choose not to go near the alligator. Heading back to safety – danger always
just behind me.
Head
aches. From a stiff neck. From reading a lot. From sitting thinking too much.
Maybe. From lots of noise.
A
stressful dream of moving into a house. Trying to get my stuff in only to find
out closets and drawers are still full with the previous owner’s things.
Stress
dreams.
4.16.20
9:26
P.M.
It
wears on us all.
Exhibiting
in ways I recognize.
Feeling
myself slowing even more—calm. Retreat. Practice extreme self-control—as I
tense. So that I loosen and come down. Calm down.
Feeling
the start of a story I want to write.
Thinking
of all the stories, ideas rather, I’ve wanted to write.
Zeppelins.
Tanner
the boy with muscular dystrophy and his dad. Imago dei. In the Image of God.
Of a
listening-post soldier/spy in the 1980s at Teufelsberg in Berlin.
Of
the 1950s peacetime bomb testing.
Of a
good man—a mixture of Mister Rogers and Newt Scamander.
4.16.20
10:38
P.M.
A
hard couple of days. Some of pain. Some of cloudy sky. Some of biological
reasons. Some of just the build up in the house of energy and friction. Of some
late nights for all.
A
lot of headaches the last few days.
How
many stories can you read at once?
A
soft, gentle high to keep my dreams less darkly intense tonight. No moving. No
unpacking. No being indebted to people who want me to work for/under them. Less
sharp-clawed creatures.
And
no more of young children being decapitated.
Anyway.
Go to sleep.
4.17.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Meditative A.M.
Reading. Journaling. Meditating. Walk in afternoon. Talked to Gmama, Mic, Amy.
Finished the out loud read of The High King to girls.
4.17.20
11:12
A.M.
The
thing is no one knows anything for certain. Everyone—all the usings of
absolutes and alls here—deals with it in their own way. People getting angry at
others to cover fear. Being hard on themselves to make up for what is felt
others aren’t doing. Step back. Take a breath. Breathing in. Breathing out. A
story begins with a man driving past a hitchhiker. Not having the time to stop
because he’s already late. Forgotten something at home. On the way to work.
A
house full of people. An open home. A door that leads to comfort—even if it’s
only for the moment.
All
you have to do is begin. All you have to do is finish what you start.
It’s
as simple as that.
With
practice the thinking time becomes less. The responses more natural, more
instinctive.
4.18.
20 Day Summary
Slept
in later. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian.
Spanish. Read. Neighborhood walk 2.37 miles. Had sushi for dinner. Started out
loud read to girls of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Watched Won’t You
be My Neighbor?
4.19.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Quiet morning.
Meditations. Talked to Mom. Talked to Dad. Took walk with Annabelle and the
girls. Annabelle over for afternoon and dinner.
4.19.20
The
pauses.
The
spaces between.
The
negative space.
“Can
I be kinder?”
(Quote
taken from a talk with Tara Brach called The Four Remembrances)
The
Goodness in others
Making
people feel like their best selves.
4.20.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Started work on
new book project. Short neighborhood walk 1.40 miles. Finished reading The
Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to girls. Talked to Phin and Gmama. Watched
half of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
4.21.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Listened/watched
Impact Theory interview with Jewel. Talked with Siafu. Started Prince Caspian
out loud read to girls. Neighborhood walk with girls 1.50 miles. Did dance
video for Stevie’s mom’s bday. Finished watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
4.22.20
Day Summary
Earth
Day. Superbrain yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish.
Solo neighborhood walk 1.56 miles. Wrote answers to cousin’s questions about
large families/siblings. Read to girls. Talked to Mic and Gmama. Watched The
Sword in the Stone. Watched The Mask Singer.
4.22.20
5:28
P.M.
The
days blend into each other, punctuated by sunshine or clouds. There are lots of
lizards out today. Running across the road, rustling in the bushes. Birds also
have a lot to say. Alameda County sent out a Public Health order for Mandatory Face
Coverings. I carry a mask in hand while I walk—we still manage our social
distancing these other neighborhooders and I.
The
mandatory mask wearing is for out-and-about activities and for the runs and
walks when six-feet distancing isn’t possible.
4.23.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read outside in
sunshine. Worked on Patreon entries. Worked on blog. Read 2 chapters to girls.
Jumped rope. Went with fam to S.F. for Stevie’s mom’s birthday.
4.23.20
10:00
A.M.
There’s
no such thing as equal love. Love is shaped by the giver, shaped to the
receiver. There is more than one way to love. This is true. This might not be
true.
A
study of love.
All
stories are a quest for love. A theory to be proven or falsified.
4.23.20
Evening
With
our masks, we go into San Francisco. It’s my first outing by car since I got my
own groceries 5 week ago. Going out feels illicit. Almost. It’s Stevie’s mom’s
birthday. We’ve been quarantined and social distanced. Stevie’s parents and
sister have as well. Before making the decision of what to do as far as
celebrating, Stevie consults a doctor friend who says there’s always a risk for
exposure. Still, instead of a driveby, we go in and visit. Wearing our masks
and washing our hands as soon as we get inside. Stevie’s mom cries with joy.
There’s pizza, vegan lasagna, and cake. The times flies by. It gets late. We’re
all tired. It’s time to go. The girls have school tomorrow. Alma has work. “Mandie
has work too,” the youngest says. This is true. The traffic is much lighter
than usual. Stevie said, “This is what it used to be like in San Francisco. I
wish the traffic would stay like this forever.” The youngest falls asleep in
the car. The stars are out. There’s the Big Dipper. I pause for half a second
to admire the night sky as I get out of the car. We wash our hands thoroughly
when we get home.
4.24.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Cup of tea in sunshine.
Worked on blog. Formatted TGUCD to epub format and sent to Amy and Tim. Talked
to Amy. Neighborhood walk 2.11 miles. Saw a deer. Finished read of Prince Caspian
to girls. Made mung bean soup again. Started read of The Dawn Treader with the
girls.
4.24.20
9:30
A.M.
Good
morning, Day. Sitting in the sunshine with a dog at my feet. Hot cup of tea
within hand’s reach. Is that a frog actually ribbiting? Some birds sing.
Another bird, a crow? calls out its complaints then falls silent. The bees buzz
from one flower to another. Some flies hover around me, around the dog.
Overhead,
a single airplane flies.
From
the distance comes the plaintive call of a train. “Old time train whistle take
me back to long ago,” as the song says.
4.24.20
10:34
A.M.
The
funny thing is, I like the security of limiting activities because it keeps
those around me more predictable. For once, others are slowing down to the
slowness that feels nice to me. But that is already being stretched back into movement
and business.
I
know I’m unusual. Always wanting to stay in the still point so as not to be
caught up in the spinning motion of a carousel, the tempestuousness of a storm,
the frenzy of most people’s day-to-day existence.
Being
in the world but not of it.
4.25.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Changed bed
linens. Cleaned house. Stevie’s parents over. Neighborhood walk 2.11 miles. Saw
a deer and two pairs of turkeys. Conversation on backyard deck.
4.25.20
4:40 P.M.
On
my walk I see two wooden, white painted rocking chairs and a little matching white
table set between them in a front yard.
I’d
sit there every day, I think, if I lived there.
And
then, I’m transported in memory to being in Anstruther, Scotland and of the
garden I sat in there and the birds and the neighbors and the flowers and the
pathway through the overgrown flowers to the road, down the hill to town, and
to the sea.
And
I remembered how happy I was there. Just finished up with writing a novel. And
how on my 40th birthday I went to Dunnottar Castle. How the day before
that adventure I went to the pharmacy and got a painkiller stronger than
ibuprofen to fend off the pain and inflammation in my calf and knee. How it was
like magic to get it. To have a more or less pain free birthday. For that day
to put off the cares and worries I’d been carrying around with me. How even with
the pain, that was a wonderful time. Altogether. All in all. Scotland.
And
now, this day too, even with its pain (without its painkillers), with its views,
with its walks, with its memories is a wonderful time as well.
4.26.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Read to girls
after breakfast. Talked to Phin. Zoom call with Mom, Dad, Steve, Jan, Siafu,
and Michaela. Outside time with Stevie. Read more to girls. After-dinner solo
time on deck with a glass of wine and a book. After-deck time conversation with
Alma.
4.26.20
After
6:00 P.M.
Wasn’t
it Mary Oliver who said, “Do not try to save the whole world?” And that can
seem like the right thing to do. To try and save. But even when, even if you can
boil it down to where to start – it feels so impossible. For those around crying
out for saving don’t want to be saved in the way you can save. If you could
save.
The
thing is – mostly we have to save ourselves, and in that saving, that healing,
that curing we can save …. oh, something. Mary Oliver said it better in her
poem. Anyway, I’m not really in the business of thinking we need saviors.
My
head is tired. Running over a conversation, old habits and patterns – what could
I have done better? I shouldn’t have said that. I should have said this. That constant
stream of self-criticism. As if everything rests on my shoulders, is my
responsibility, my project to put together, my disaster to fix, my burning world
to save.
Conditioned
to please. To appease. To cajole and placate.
No,
it was Martha Postlethwaite who said that. Mary Oliver had other things to say.
Like:
“and
you felt the old tug at your ankles.
‘Mend
my life!’
each
voice cried.
But
you didn’t stop.
You
knew what you had to
do,”
What
did I have to do?
The
knowing would be nice.
It’s
the unknowing, the unknown that can eat away at one.
4.26.20
10:09
P.M.
Clearing
by Martha Postlethwaite
Do
not try to save
the whole
world
or
do anything grandiose.
Instead,
create
a clearing
in
the dense forest
of
your life
and
wait there
patiently,
until
the song
that
is your life
falls
into your own cupped hands
and
you recognize and greet it.
Only
then will you know
how
to give yourself
to
this world
so
worthy* of rescue.
4.26.20
Mary
Oliver
The
Journey
One
day you finally knew
what
you had to do, and
began,
though
the voices around you
kept
shouting
their
bad advice –
though
the whole house
began
to tremble
and
you felt the old tug
at
your ankles.
“Mend
my life!”
each
voice cried.
But
you didn’t stop.
You
knew what you had to
do,
though
the wind pried
with
its stiff fingers
at
the very foundations,
though
their melancholy
was
terrible.
It
was already late
enough,
and a wild night,
and
the road full of fallen
branches
and stones.
But
little by little,
as you
left their voice behind,
the
stars began to burn
through
the sheets of clouds,
and
there was a new voice
which
you slowly
recognized
as your own,
that
kept you company
as
you strode deeper and
deeper
into
the world,
determined
to do
the
only thing you could do –
determined
to save
the
only life that you could
save.
4.27.20
Day Summary
Superbrain
yoga. Five Tibetan Rites. Meditation. French. Russian. Spanish. Red sent Jason Mraz
vid Look for the Good. Tea in sunshine. Talked with Josko. Talked with Amy.
4.27.20
9:40
A.M.
A
friend sends me a video featuring a song by Jason Mraz called Look for the
Good. On a Monday morning where I woke up before I wanted to and nearly got up
on the wrong side of the bed, it was just the words I needed.
For
the sun is shining. My tea is on point. The dog is resting peacefully at my
feet. Comfort in company.
Jason
Mraz sings, “Look for the Good in Everything.”
Mister
Rogers recalls his mother saying, “Look for the Helpers.”
Bob
Ross said, “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents.”
Steve
Irwin said, “The message is simple: love and conserve our wildlife.”
Ellen
says, “Be kind.”
All are
ways to say Let’s live to the fullest. Let’s be the best we can be. And when we
get to that best – be even a little bit better than that.
*I
don’t have the original of Martha Postlethwaite’s poem The Clearing. I’ve heard
versions read with the last line as “so worth of rescue” and also as “so worthy
of rescue.” I’m not sure which is right by the poet. I’m using “worthy” here
because it seems to be more correct in common usage and understanding. I
sincerely apologize if this in incorrect.
