November 13th, 2016
|05:38 pm - Not Actually Recovering, Post #48|
For the past few days I have been veering between fragility and anger. Now I've reached the truly strange state of angry fragility, which is actually weirdly difficult to sustain....
I have work to do, but I spent the afternoon doing some cleaning and rearranging around the house, and after dinner and a glass of wine (because I have an open bottle of Riesling that needs to be finished in the next three days), it'll be yoga and list-making. Maybe then I won't feel quite so shaky.
I am having some trouble with self-care, let's just say that.
Anyway, three random quotes, literally chosen by going to my bookshelf and picking three books:
The last stanza of Mark Strand's "In the Mountains":
For though we stared at mountains
Earlier, the dark has made us
Wonder where we are, and where
We were, and who we are
Thinking of where we were,
And, even, if.
A stanza from Eliot's "The Hollow Men":
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning
And the end of Wislawa Szymborska's "Conversation with a Stone":
I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in."
"I don't have a door," says the stone.
[scrutinizes the quotes]
Apparently I am obsessed by geology and flora in these troubled times.
May we all find more comforting words than these.
Those quotes make perfect sense to me.
And I'm not so much recovering as I am hiding from a reality that I do not want to accept.
I am glad that I do not have children, and what more biting indictment could there possibly be?
I am glad that I do not have children, and what more biting indictment could there possibly be? I am right there too.
Hugs, and may we all get through this. ALL of us.
|Date:||November 14th, 2016 12:22 am (UTC)|| |
I do have adult children, both of whom voted. It's one of those times when I feel guilty about the world they're inheriting.
You needn't feel guilty. You should be proud of them. [hugs]
|Date:||November 13th, 2016 10:51 pm (UTC)|| |
Those quotes make sense to me.
I keep thinking of the song "Could We Start Again, Please?" from Jesus Christ Superstar.
That's a great song. We need words and music to give voice to this.
|Date:||November 14th, 2016 12:20 am (UTC)|| |
[hugs and comforting thoughts]
And the same back to you. [hugs]
I'm with ya on the fragility and anger. Also in the falling down in self-care. Too numb, I guess.
I think we'll focus eventually, find a game plan. Right now, less than a week later, we're still stunned.
[hugs] Take care of yourself.
Sorry this is so long, but sort of needs all of it. I kept it on my fridge door back in the 60's and again right after 9/11. It sustains me, in spite of its old-fashioned-ness (also sorry about the pronoun, but that was then):
What Are Years?
What is our innocence,
what is our guilt? All are
naked, none is safe. And whence
is courage: the unanswered question,
the resolute doubt, —
dumbly calling, deafly listening—that
in misfortune, even death,
and in its defeat, stirs
the soul to be strong? He
sees deep and is glad, who
accedes to mortality
and in his imprisonment rises
upon himself as
the sea in a chasm, struggling to be
free and unable to be,
in its surrendering
finds its continuing.
So he who strongly feels,
behaves. The very bird,
grown taller as he sings, steels
his form straight up. Though he is captive,
his mighty singing
says, satisfaction is a lowly
thing, how pure a thing is joy.
This is mortality,
this is eternity.
That is a wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing it. May your Monday be full of good words and delights.
|Date:||November 14th, 2016 09:02 am (UTC)|| |
I wish I could get W. B. Yeats and T. S. Eliot out of my head but they just won't stop muttering gloomy lines at me.
Sending many hugs in lieu of comforting words.
Yes. Yeats' "Second Coming" is so horribly apt. :(
Hugs hugs to you and yours, K.
I too am struggling with self care, and that bothers me a lot. I mean, we're going to have to be strong if we are to find a path forward out of fear. I admire those like you and Di Francis who have a creative outlet, some way to put the words we can't actually speak ourselves into others' mouths. Or maybe that's just me imagining the way imagination works for you. But I found cleaning therapeutic, and silently walking the beach ditto.
I also found it surprisingly helpful to practice monkish silence last night. The pressure of putting words on this is...overwhelming.
hugs, my friend. Hugs.
Silence can be a blessing. I wish more blessings for you! [hugs]
|Date:||November 15th, 2016 12:09 am (UTC)|| |
Angry fragility is a great way of expressing the emotion. Adding in additional stress from other non-political sources hasn’t been helping. I know we are suppose to take up our wands and practice “constant vigilance!” right now. Hard to raise your wand when you feel like old, stained, threadbare carpet. Self care (I did make a proper doctor’s appointment that has been needed) but there really isn’t enough tea right now. And WHO IS HIDING THE CHOCOLATE FROGS!
Big hugs! Keep writing. Keep on, cause that is what we are going to have to do.
Belatedly -- hugs hugs, tea, good thoughts! And I hope your doctor's appointment goes well, too.
Yes, I am right there with you. And in retrospect, this wasn't the ideal time to make this medication switch, and I'm not sure how much of my shakiness is from the medication change, which makes it hard to tell my doctor what's going on. But we persevere. I was feeling pretty optimistic about everything before Tuesday night, for once.
G and I immediately discussed how glad we are that we don't have kids, as people said above. Long term, the planet is screwed and we just voted in the most anti-science administration of all time -- I'm worried about what is going to happen to medical research as well. And I'm obviously worried about health care in general, as whatever the GOP does could have a really horrible effect on my life and the lives of people I love. And I'm worried about every vulnerable person in this country and furious at Bernie Sanders and members of the media who are doing nothing but complaining about how the white working class (read, white male working class) doesn't get enough attention. Yes, it's all the white men we really need to worry about now! And the media has done nothing but eulogize the white working class throughout the election. Nobody cared when women and minorities had problems.
I have decided that I have to ration my news. This isn't a good time to be a political junkie, and I am so furious at the mainstream media for playing a huge role in this debacle and then immediately normalizing it. I need to balance the need to stay informed with self care, or I will never be able to actually do anything about this. So I started a novel. Amy Tan, The Valley of Amazement, the only book of hers I have not read. I need to spend less time staring at a screen, you know?
I am very thankful for my friends, though. ((Hugs)) to you. Talking to each other is how we will get through this,
Yes, news-rationing is hard but perhaps necessary.
I am sending all hugs that your new medication issues wear off, and I am sending all hugs to you!