GO TEAM

Sometime this summer, a memory popped up in Facebook. It was a picture of me excitedly holding my ticket for BlogHer, an annual conference for women who blog. It turned out that this is the ten year anniversary of that first conference I attended, as well as my first visit to New York City. I was buzzing with excitement to see Talaura and have her show me around this city that I had only ever experienced through a Hollywood lens. I was ecstatic to be going to a conference that would put me in the same room as so many amazing women. My favorite bloggers were all going to be there and I was going to meet them! I was going to be in the same room with these women who inspired me to be creative with their own words, who taught me the power of telling stories through pictures.

One of those women is Karen Walrond of Chookooloonk. Karen’s blog has always been a place for inspiration. She was my first teacher of photography and to this day I still use “look for the light” as my mantra while imaging. Her words combined with her images tell stories of kindness, joy, truth, and beauty. Reading this blog has made me want to be a better version of myself and I am so glad that she still keeps up with it, while so many of us have fallen off the blogging wheel. When Karen put out a call for people to help promote her new book, The Lightmaker’s Manifesto: How to Work for Change Without Losing Your Joy, I raised my hand high up in the air and whispered “pick me! pick me!”. Then I got an email saying that I was now part of The Lightmaker Launch Team and a link to the Facebook group page. Karen wanted everyone on the team to take a moment to post a brief “about you” along with a photo and I jerked my hand out of the air and shrunk in my seat whispering “I don’t really know the answer, don’t pick me.”

One question Karen asked of all of us Lightmakers was “how would we change the world?” and my brain turned into a desert of nothingness. I mean, I think I had causes that I used to be passionate about. I really feel like I used to do stuff. There are past blog entries in this space about the AIDS Walk and buying school supplies for underprivileged children. I have written here about science and making fully informed decisions as opposed to relying on some ridiculous meme as a news source. All of that feels like a lifetime ago. I have lost my zest for activism or for at least talking about it. I still send a weekly email to Gov. Parson’s and Eric Schmitt demanding they free Kevin Strickland and Lamar Johnson. I have an automatic monthly donation set up for Planned Parenthood. I quietly give money when a disaster hits and while I was still doing my Zoom classes, all proceeds went to a charity of some sorts. But really, I feel useless, deflated and tired every time I read the news and see what a dumpster fire just this country alone has become, let alone the rest of the world. The desire to help and fix it all is overwhelming and paralyzing.

I’ve lost my joy.

So, I think that maybe Karen’s new book is coming to me exactly at the moment when I need it the most. I look forward to reading this book and gaining some of my joy back. If you’re interested in reading Karen’s book, there are a number of ways to pre-order it here: http://www.chookooloonks.com/books . I haven’t even read it yet, but I’m sure it’s going to be one of those books that I keep within reach for those moments when I feel like throwing in the towel.

HOLLY JOLLY

I had our Christmas card design ready for ordering almost two months ago. Then I received a coupon and ordered those cards a month ago. I have a stack of cards on my desk waiting to be addressed and I don’t even know who I am any more. The card design came to me by accident and started with a picture taken while hunting for the new dining room table. That table is currently taking up the space where I would normally set up our Christmas tree. So while I may be ahead on the cards, I am at a loss on how I might decorate this year. I’m thinking of only putting out the stockings, hang a wreath on the door and set up the Menorah. There are also no presents. I have a brilliant idea to take the box my mattress came in that I stored in the basement and fill it with individually wrapped gifts for the Cabbage. Except, at this point, I don’t know what to get her because she’s reached that weird age of not really being into anything but her tablet.

How excited she’ll be to open a giant box containing nothing but a pair of earrings.

This year, I am surprised with how much I seem to be embracing the jolliness of the holiday season. I have always disdained the appearance of Christmas on the day after Halloween. Those radio stations that start playing all of the Christmas tunes in November get banned from being played in the car. I once worked at a department store over the holiday and was stuck folding clothes to Christmas songs on a loop for a month. That was enough to turn me into a right Grinch for all things Christmas. This year seems different. Early last week I found myself playing Andrew Birds’ new Christmas album, Hark!, on loop. Man, can that guy whistle and his rendition of Souvenirs makes me dance a silly jig. On Saturday as we drove to Costco, Michael flipped the radio over to a station already playing Christmas songs and the car turned into my own personal choir concert. He let me get through at least three songs before he turned the station with “that’s enough of that.”

With the infection rates being so high right now, we will not be traveling anywhere to visit with family and friends. Our mayor is set to announce new restrictions at noon today. Michael and I have decided to have our Thanksgiving dinner on the Friday after Thanksgiving. They have dollar oysters at Whole Foods on Fridays and our plan is to buy up a mess of them for an Oystergiving. Let’s face it, as we get closer to the end of this year, there seems to be a real urgency to celebrate. It is not so much an urgency to celebrate the end of 2020 as it is to celebrate surviving this year. Oystergiving and singing Christmas tunes at the top of our lungs seems like a pretty nice way to celebrate right now.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Bonnet

Each morning during my walk with Josephine, I take a moment to practice some flash photography. I am learning. I find it to be pleasantly challenging and humbling because I end up taking so many crap pictures. Sometimes I even post the crap pictures. It’s important to me to show the crap pictures. There is an honesty in showing them. This practice in making my own light is making a difference and not just with my photography. This was a dark week for me. I have been hearing stories from others. We are all struggling. We all suffer from pandemic fatigue and the added strain of keeping ourselves and our families healthy. I follow some pretty great women in social media and I have read their stories of stress. Everyone of them follow up with a reminder to find the goodness and joy in the day.

There was a schedule change this week and I ended up not going to the office on Thursday and Friday. I spent the first half of Thursday doing a thorough scrubbing of the house. I pulled down the curtains and threw them in the washer. Then I started in the kitchen, wiping down cabinets and walls. I moved to the bathroom where I crawled on the floor to clean behind the toilet. I dusted every surface of every room. I moved the couch and tackled cleaning the windows. There was about two inches of dirt on the window that I had been ignoring. Every winter you can feel cold air blowing in through these windows and we always end up sealing them up with that shrink wrap plastic stuff. I went through four rags and almost all of the multipurpose cleaner removing all of the dirt. I put new covers on the couch, swept, vacuumed and hung the clean curtains.

I woke up the next morning to a cold house and a stuffy nose. For a minute, I indulged in the idea of not walking the dog, but I rolled out of bed and bundled up. Josephine and I went on our walk and I had no intention of stopping for a photo. My fingers were numb with cold and I just wanted to get our walk done. But on our way home, I stopped at the house that grows all the dahlias every year. They’re still blooming, still bright and fluffy. They won’t be for much longer. Soon the man who grows them will dig them all up to be stored in his basement until next year. So I paused.

As I continued with my day, I noticed a little lift in the darkness. I took note of the actions I use to console myself. Putting the things I can control in order, soothes me. Pausing to admire the last of this season’s dahlias, brightens me. Working on a new skill, empowers me. All of these things make me stronger and lighter.