Most of the time, I have no idea how to answer that question. Do you?
In some respects, this collective trauma has left me feeling less alone than any other time I can recall. I’ve also found myself growing quieter and maybe a little more peaceful. I can’t really explain why but I’m not too into exploring or even asking, “why?”
Some key things I have noted in the past several months:
A lot of things are less funny, including me. I’m okay with that.
I notice little wonderful things in my daily life and I’m on the lookout for them.
I do a gratitude list every single day, even (especially) when I feel crappy.
I have become much smaller and I don’t mean in the physical sense, but my emotional investment in things that once appeared to matter, really don’t. I’m grateful for this too.
I forgive my sloppy eating but not in a way where I’m giving myself permission to eat five dinners. I’m just kinder to myself and I think, others.
I pay far more attention to how I use my own physical, mental, emotional and financial resources – I’m more discerning.
I don’t think I’m ugly even though I am physically not even close to my best.
I am sometimes incredibly sad, but rarely depressed.
I am shocked by other people’s behavior and especially meanness. I have learned in the past several months that I’m actually more naive than I ever thought possible.
I’m not becoming cynical.
I have a new appreciation for my previous trauma. The silver lining is that this is just another trauma and this time, I’m not alone in it.
I miss human touch.
Some of my favorite family moments have happened during this time period.
I generally think more in “we” and not “me.”
I’ve grown less judgmental.
I have fallen more deeply in love with fundraising and nonprofit management since the pandemic began.
I am very impressed by my (and other people’s) children and their ability to cope, hope, adapt and act for positive change.
I’m inspired to and must help the arts community.
I’m devoted to learning how to be an antiracist and I have a lot to learn and do.
I am sure I’m not destined for greatness but am good enough. What a relief.
How am I?
I am okay with not knowing what’s coming down the pike and when I’m uncomfortable, I just sort of sit in my uncomfortableness. It always passes, comes back, passes again and so on…
Just now, I took the dog for a walk. It’s chilly, but as usual, I chose not to wear a jacket. One of the things I like about frigid weather in the winter is how alive I feel when the glacial air blasts my face. Continue reading “People are Kind”
Years ago, I believed I was unintelligent. As a child, I worked very hard to hide my perceived stupidity and the shame that accompanied it. I was convinced that anytime I appeared to be intelligent, it was artificial. Naturally, this internal messaging, along with other self-mutilating messaging, was totally false. Continue reading “A Love Letter to Artificial Progress & Real Regression”
Lately, I’ve been extra depleted physically, mentally and emotionally. This is not a complaint, but is provided as a frame of reference for the possible drivel I’m about to write.
While in this diminished state, I considered writing 100 things I love about my Mother, but the truth is, 100 isn’t nearly enough. I have way more than 100 things I love about my amazing Mom.
Instead, I thought I’d fantasize about 100 Mother’s Day gifts and/or events I’d absolutely love. Some are real, and some are imagined. Most are imagined, but I hope they’re real someday. Continue reading “The Mother Load”
When anyone mentions ORT to Lynn Reiner, and people often do, they are likely (and lucky) to catch her infectious enthusiasm and passion for ORT and all things related to elevating education. Lynn’s unique presence leaves a profound and indescribable impact on the people, places and things she touches. This is certainly true for ORT on a global and national scale as well as here in the Metropolitan Chicago Region. She has been unwavering in her dedication to ORT for more than 36 years.
My eldest daughter, Juliette, suffered a concussion yesterday. She tripped in the school locker room in total darkness. The power suddenly went out in the entire school, and in the locker room, there are no windows. Her head hit a bench. This is her second concussion in less than two years. She seems fine, so I’m going with that. Continue reading “The Concussion,the Head Trip & WHY?”