272 // Dragging Myself

I am struggling to meet the work week with enthusiasm this Monday morning. I didn’t sleep well last night, but that’s been my new normal for a long time now. Part of it was the usual pain and discomfort of the body, but most of it was anxiety over the problems I have yet to overcome and the problems I imagine may be on the horizon.

So, I am dragging myself through work and class, trying to complete tasks and teach others what I know. It’s a tough morning, but the great (and horrible) thing about time is that it is always marching on moving you toward a new state. The morning will end. The calls will end. The day will end and each end brings with a new beginning, a fresh start, another chance.

The good news is that the day should end early and I’ll hopefully have time to spend in my newly—though far from perfectly but much more than before—organized creativity room. I’m looking forward to doing some writing, or some reading, or whatever feels right to do when I get there.

I’m carrying my pocket notebook with me today and I’m excited to use it, though so far no thoughts or ideas worth jotting have occurred, of course. I pulled out my old physical journal yesterday too. I haven’t written in it since January. These entries have taken its place but somehow have never given me quite the same satisfaction.

I suppose it isn’t good to start the exploration stage of any idea in a place you know others will be watching or judging. I do my best to be open and free here, but there is a level of raw emotion I can only achieve in in writing meant for my eyes only.

Goals // Week 40: Amor Fati

This week is going to be a bit of a roller coaster ride of alternating work days scheduled to the brim with projects and classes and days with little more to do than wake up and walk in and while it sounds like a luxury to have any days at all where expectations are so low, there will be times when even that will be too much.

My health has been improving somewhat and in someways but fatigue is still a hard obstacle to overcome and worry over tasks that must lie undone until the next low burst of energy or fleeting moment of focus can cripple me with stress and guilt.

I have been suffering so long now with this flare up of symptoms though that I have decided, this week, I will move from hoping to return to some old normalcy or version of myself and my life I can recognize and start moving on toward a new life that is compatible with who I am now. I have to work with and sometimes around my body. I have to work through my emotions. I have to to make the most of my new insights and perspectives.

This week I will:

Meditate every morning. It’s been weeks since I last made time to be still, to breathe, to be present, and it’s really beginning to show. I find myself getting too easily swept up in the emotions of the moment or the problems of the past or future. I feel what control I’d gained over my perspective slipping. It’s time I get back to it and I regain the peace I’ve lost.

Spend more time at my desk. I spent a good portion of the weekend purging and reorganizing my “creativity room”. The space feels much more welcoming and conducive to writing, and I’m eager to make a little time every day to this little hobby and passion of mine. I have a pile of thought fragments and scraps of ideas to get to work on, and I’m excited to see where this system of reflection and writing might lead.

Take better notes. No more post-it notes and pieces of scrap paper! This week I will carry around three notebooks: a journal for writing about the day, a small notebook for recording more formal writing ideas, and a pocket notebook for all those thought fragments and raw ideas I don’t want to lose to forgetfulness. Bonus: Schedule time in your calendar to review each of these notebooks weekly.

Read a little every day. This past weekend I made a little headway toward catching up to my reading goals and now that I have this momentum I do not want to lose it. To make the goal easier to meet, I’ll make sure to keep a Penguin Little Black Classic on me to read during all those minutes between tasks and events that add up throughout the day.

Go for a walk or two. I’ve started seeing small signs of improvement in my health and healing journey, and I think it’s time I found my way back to physical activity. I have to be cautious and mindful not to push myself too far and undo all the progress I have made. Just three days this week, I’d like to get out and around the block with the dog.

This week I will not not feel sorry for myself. I will not get sucked into patterns of self pity and suffering because I focus far too much on the gap between my expectations and my lived reality. It’s okay to be sad. It’s not okay to wallow. It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to get stuck. This week I will work on acceptance and forgiveness, for myself, my body, and the universe at large. This week I will work to love my fate.


Photo by kyler trautner on Unsplash

271 // Bond and Blur

The weekend is finally coming to an end and I’m ready! It hasn’t exactly been and bad weekend, but it’s been a bit of a lonely one. My wife has been away on a trip we meant to take together, but because I have been feeling so cruddy she went without me. That meant four days at home, just the dog, the cat, and me.

I enjoyed the extended time spent with silence and solitude but my wife and I have been together and been so close for so long that when she is away, it really does feel like a part of myself, my psyche, my soul, had been ripped away.

There is a numbness, a blunting, a dampening that happens to my emotions and passions. It’s as if I go through a miniature grief and life becomes a little less lively, less livable until she returns.

She’s home now though, and the life is bright, full, and open again. All is right with the world and with me. What is interesting is that I don’t necessarily have to be talking or interacting with her to feel better. We don’t even have to be in the same room. I only need to know she is near me to feel whole.

I think about this a lot, this wholeness I feel with her. I think about how intertwined we are, how dependant we’ve grown, and I worry over how healthy or right it is to be this way.

I’m alternatively resistant to it and longing to deepen the bond and blur between who she is and who I am, where she ends and I begin. I know my resistance comes from fear about how we, or sometimes just I, will be perceived—too needy, too wanting, too willing to give up who I am. I don’t have many role models for long-term relationships, and even fewer for what constitutes healthy, so it’s hard to know or compare.

Perhaps, like all things in life, any example or comparison should be taken in the context of what feels right or wrong to you. Perhaps it isn’t about right or wrong at all. Perhaps it’s only about what is. After 18 years together, how could we not be so intertwined or dependant? How could the boundary between where she ends and where I begin not blur with time? This bond is inevitable.

270 // Purge, Develop, Expand, Evolve

I spent the morning working through a very large purging project in the “creativity room”, a place where, lately, very little creativity has been happening at all.

This room, divided in half with a desk on my wife’s side for her work, and a desk on mine the doubles as a place to create both my analog collages and these attempts with words, has long become a dumping ground and storage space for every knickknack and ambiguous piece of furniture. It’s become far too cluttered and become something far from its original purpose for me to fall into the kind of focus and flow needed to produce anything without great effort and distress.

So, I’ve been avoiding the room entirely, and my desk, and my art and writing because I can’t relax or think in there. I can’t connect old ideas or generate new ones without anywhere to “spread my mind out in”, you know?

The bulk of the work so far had been throwing out those items I haven’t used or even thought about in months or years and that will certainly give me the space I need but there is a harder and more delicate task to tackle after of sitting down and working through the mountain of scrap paper and old notebooks containing just about every thought that has occurred to me over the last many, many years.

Yes, I am a compulsive note-taker. Most of the notes are useless nonsense I jot to remember a task, an item from the store, a thing I read or saw, or mean to read or see, but there are a few small gems buried beneath: ideas for blog posts, essays, zines, and even books I scribbled while working or in the dead of night and never went back to expand or develop. Now they sit, contextless and nearly indecipherable, waiting for review, reflection, revision, and reshuffling into something that resembles real writing.

I had thought to transcribe them into Google’s Docs or Keep apps, but I think a new Are.na channel might be more interesting. I can then connect each note individually to other channels to give them that missing context and purpose as I decide what each thought means, or can mean.

Going forward, I am going to carry a pocket notebook with me everywhere and at least weekly transfer the useful ideas to Are.na (or an index card system that I can keep in a nice and tidy box on my desk if I decide to go full analog). The hope is that through regular review of the notebook, I can then set those ideas free from their frozen prison of paper and turn them into long-desired blog posts and essay attempts.

I’ve never had an issue generating ideas in the moment, the struggle has always been in returning to those ideas and making time to do the work, the writing. Today is a chance to clear the slate, the desk, the mind and begin developing and expanding ideas but developing and evolving a system that feeds the writing.

265 // The Practice is Important

The new week has finally begun and though I woke in a bad mood, wanting to stay home and forget all responsibilities and obligations, I’m doing a remarkable job of faking it until I, hopefully, make it. Being part of a team and knowing there are people who are counting on me to show up and produce good work means leaving my problems and poor attitude at the door.

And you know what, taking the time and making the effort to change my perspective really turned the whole day around. It wasn’t easy though, and I realize now why the practice of mediation and mindfulness is so important. I’ve been out of practice for weeks now and I am noticing that stepping outside of myself, grounding myself, or using my rational mind is getting harder and harder to do.

The good news is that even though this week’s schedule is full, there are plenty of people on my team to share the load this time. I have more downtime than I anticipated and on top of that I’d long decided to take a couple of days off at the end of the week. It won’t be near as hard as it looks on paper and knowing that alone makes the day all the brighter.


There are just 100 days left in the year. Of course, I know that nothing, not politically or personally, will get better when the clock strikes midnight on January 1st, 2021, but the elections will be over, we’ll have settled so much further into this new normal, we’ll be halfway through winter, and so many of the big decisions I have to yet to make will be behind me.

It’s not the new year that matters. That isn’t really the end I’m waiting for. I’m just looking forward to solutions and outcomes to the problems we face and a chance to overcome fresh problems altogether.

264 // What a Weekend

What a weekend it has been! Friday night was the start of a great many birthday celebrations. Three of my siblings happen to have been born within the same 48 hour time frame, though many, many years apart. In addition, we have my father-in-law, and, a new addition to our family, my beautiful newborn baby niece.

Her father is one of the siblings celebrating his birthday this weekend too and I’m so happy that his greatest birthday wish finally came true—him and his daughter will share their special day for their whole lives.

Beyond the festivities and the bundle of joy joining our family, there has been heartbreak too. I was shocked, and then devastated, and then terrified by the news of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing. The world has been uncertain for a long time now and grows more uncertain as the days pass and our heroes pass away. I feel certain there is so much worse to come for us all on the horizon and hopeless, powerless, to stop any of it.

So, for now, I’m focusing on what I can control. I’m focusing on what I can wrap my head around—today and the week ahead—and even that mush feels enough to push me over the edge.

258 // Carry this Pain With Me

Health-wise, today was an awful day. For one, I felt a lot worse. My pain and other symptoms were heightened and quite distressing. I’m so tired and run down I had to leave work early so I could to come home and simply sleep the afternoon away. After two additional hours rest, I still woke up with darkened eye circles and weakness in my muscles.

On top of that, I met with my doctor and though we still have no solutions; we are not quite out of options. I have a plan, but it’s a little terrifying. On one hand I have to come wean off one of my medications and see if I get better or worse. On the flip side, we are increasing another medication with the hope that it will work better. So a lot of hoping with very few certainties and a lot of real possibilities for things to go from bad to worse.

I feel close to giving up, or at least wanting to. I don’t know that giving up is even a choice or what that would like as an option going forward. I guess I can’t really give up, but I’m dangerously close to giving in—to grief, to anger, to loneliness and hopelessness.

I’m just tired of fighting. Talking myself up or back is a daily battle. Getting out of bed, getting dressed, going about my day, and doing my best to work, listen, connect, laugh, love, and be present is exhausting beyond words. How can I keep up this pace? How do I go on living, really living, not just being alive, while my body is falling and failing me every minute of every day?

I guess the only way is to see that, for one, my body is me, and two, I am not failing or falling at all. I am perhaps doing, giving, and expecting more than I should, but I am strong and I am getting through it the best anyone could if they were in my position.

It’s been helpful to remind myself that that none of this is my fault and more than that I don’t owe anyone anything because of it, let alone an apology. I’ve been feeling so sorry for every part of this, but what exactly am I sorry for? For impacting others? For asking “Will you help me?” For the proximity I place them to suffering and fragility by simply existing and being perceived?

Yes, I’m sorry for it all, but what is the point of friendship, of community, of caring, connection, and love if not to both experience and welcome such impact? I’ve got to stop feeling bad for living a real life that includes sad things, bad news, and hard choices. I have to not just welcome but expect that the people in my life will put up with me, will help me, will carry this pain with me willingly and enthusiastically.

257 // A Wholly Different Day

I’m feeling good today, which is utterly unexpected considering I had one of the worst nights in a long time. On top of my usual problems and pains, I woke early with a migraine that even total darkness and silence plus a combination of both Aleve and Tylenol would not touch.

I found myself staring at the ceiling before the sun was fully above the horizon and contemplating giving up, rising, and beginning whatever kind of day I was fated to have after a night like that.

Somewhere in her sleep my wife must have felt my frustration, pain, and plans. She rolled over and laid her head on my shoulder and draped her arms over me so I couldn’t leave. I told her I meant to get up, but she only moaned her disapproval and refused to budge. So, I gave in and gave up, and the next thing I knew I was drifting off again.

Two hours later I was a brand new me and I’m convinced today is a wholly different day, all because of her and those two hours of deep and restorative sleep I got. The migraine is now gone and I’ve had enough energy to mark an item or two off my to-do list and spend a little time at my desk.

I’ve missed this space lately. It’s a mess, but I decided not to use up all my time and focus on cleaning and simply sit down and try to create. I made a new blackout poem and I’ve published and scheduled a few posts here.

There was more I could have done, sure, there always is and will be, but it felt good to do a little more than drag this bag of meat and bone from work to bed and back as I have been now for weeks.

256 // A Compete Wreck

My body and mind are a complete wreck today. Part of it is last night’s indulgences, and part of it was today’s anxieties and stresses.

My family has been going through a hard time lately and today was a day to face some hard truths head on. Today I had to be brave, to open up, say what is on my mind and in my heart, and set boundaries and demand that things change so that one day things might really, really change.

It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but at least I didn’t do it alone. We came together as a family. For so much of my life I have been the caregiver, the advice-giver, the strong, loving, and dependable one in my family, but lately I have been wondering when and who will ever be all of that for me? Part of me thought, “no one and never”. Part of me thought, “at least not until you ask”.

So, I asked and to my pleasant surprise everyone answered and I was reminded that despite all we have been through, separately and together, we turned out to be a surprisingly well adjusted, loving, and connected family. We have some big problems and we carry heavy baggage, but we are blessed in all the most important ways.

255 // Friday Feeling

The weekend is finally here and with it a more relaxed, or more accurately, an unconcerned attitude. I feel unbothered and unaffected, almost detached, and it feels good.

Lately I’ve been drifting unanchored, at the whims of currents I cannot control. I’ve been swept up in the emotions and problems of others for too long, and perhaps my mind has hit a limit and has mercifully shut down some of that emotion and empathy I seem to perpetually have too much of.

The downside is my patience is thin and nothing feels particularly important to accomplish right now. All passions are dampened and productivity is suffering. THe upside is, I’m in a sociable kind of mood instead. I want to talk and laugh. I want to connect with the people around me and have a little fun for a change. So, that’s what I’m doing. No work is getting done today, but there are more pressing needs at hand.


Lately my favorite part of Friday has been dinner time. These past months I’ve been forced into a bland, low-residue, and often liquid diet in an effort to cope with a severe ulcerative colitis flare up, but on Friday nights I let myself one cheat meal. Tonight we are picking up baby back ribs, burgers, and margaritas from one of our favorite restaurants.

You don’t realize how exciting food can be, or how much the texture, flavor, and taste of food contributes to your quality of life until you can’t have it. This dinner, and every Friday night cheat night, are the highlights of my entire week. I suffer every Saturday morning, sure, but I’ve never regretted it once.