Category Archives: Hope

In January… like it’s a magical month.

Once again, I need a change in my life. I need consistency. I need peace and grace and hope and love. And I plan to get it. In January.

With the death of my dad in September, in addition to the death of my mom in December 2021, in addition to having to move back to Indiana in August of 2018, in addition to downgrading from a teaching job to $8 an hour barista job when I moved to MN, I have been stuck in a dark cave of depression that has been compounded by trying to heal some childhood wounds and trying to function without external stimulation to compensate for the holes in my heart. Basically, I am trying to get myself to a place where I can live with joy and without being so sad all the time.

In January, I have already committed to returning to veganism, which brings me joy. I am excited about it, and I have started by not eating meat since the day Jane Goodall died. I know that’s a weird marker, but when my mom died, bell hooks died, and when my dad died, Jane Goodall died. So I tried to add more radical love to my life in the first instance, and now I am adding back in veganism in the second instance. If you haven’t already, you should read All About Love by bell hooks and The Book of Hope by Jane Goodall. Both texts have revolutionized my life and how I feel about this difficult life and world, and maybe they will give you food for thought as well. I am encouraged by Goodall’s commitment to veganism and animal rights, and I hope to remain a lifelong vegan this time. I’ve been toying with it since 1992, so it’s probably time to commit.

In January, I also plan to ditch social media for the year, which I hope brings me some joy. A few years ago I switched to a flip phone and loved it, until I had to go on a trip and needed the maps app for directions, so I am just going to employ a strategy in which I remove everything but the essential apps from my phone and then have a friend lock it down with a passcode I don’t know. My brain needs a break from all of the doom and gloom in this world, but I also need to know what’s going on, so I will still follow the news, but at my leisure. I also plan to reinvigorate video game playing, taking photographs, writing here, and reading in place of the social media. I spend a extensive amount of time scrolling through bull shit, like animals dancing and people arguing, on my phone when I could be growing my brain in other ways.

In January, I also plan to start running a mile a day, which my brother and I did quite successfully a few years ago, and which I think helps me focus on getting outside even when I don’t want to. My goal is to reach 20,000 steps a day between running and walking. For me 20,000 steps is about 7.5 to 8 miles. Currently, I average about 10,000 steps, but I am not making any kind of conscious effort to get there, so I think with some effort, I can make it to 20,000. I love being outside, and I do love moving my body, but since the depression got worse and I’ve relegated myself to my couch, probably making the depression even worse, I am stuck in that mode, rather than being my typical outdoorsy self.

In January, I want to start some new traditions, too, like regular silent retreats, weekly “community” meals, meaningful meditation, and going to church more regularly. I don’t know. I just need a change. Again.

Maybe now I can break free?

Hope

As the calendar year comes to an end and people look back into the past to see what they’ve accomplished and look forward into the near future to set goals, I look back and see that what I accomplished is that I am here. I am still in this mortal coil, still moving forward day by day, and still working to experience joy and, on most days, happiness. For me, simply being here is a huge accomplishment. As I look forward to the new year and as I try to set goals, my only real goal, as always, is to have hope that this year will be better than the last.

In “You Belong to the World,” the first poem in the collection You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World edited by Ada Limón, the poet Carrie Fountain states, “You belong/ to the world, animal. Deal with it.” If you’ve read this blog for a long time, you know I’ve wrestled with vegetarianism, veganism, paleo eating, omnivorous eating, and a variety of other ways to sustain myself. I do believe that eating vegan is the best choice for us and this world, and vegetarianism is a close second, but I also know that as I age I need more protein than what I can stomach on a vegan diet. Notice, I did not say than what can be attained on a vegan diet, but more than I can ingest. I cannot eat that many lentils. I don’t even like most beans. So, I am choosing instead to eat mindfully, in moderation, all of the things I love, because while I want happiness for the animals, I, too, am an animal and desire happiness and longevity. Maybe one day, again, I will be vegan.

About being an animal and belonging to this world and dealing with it. Again, if you’ve read this blog for longer than a minute, you know I am heavily invested in theology, and so much theology is about what will happen then. Then, as in, when we die. While I have never been thoroughly invested in an “I’m living well now, so I can get to heaven” theology, I have been, since I was very young, invested in a “how do I live my theology, or how do I live like Jesus and Buddha, here on this earth in this year in this specific moment” theology—this was not so popular in seminary, as I was always asking why people were good with the hopes of a future reward, rather than being good because those good works flowed from their beliefs and were a natural consequence of our faith in Jesus—but, I digress. The idea of being an animal who belongs to this earth, so deal with it, seems much in line with my way of theological thinking. We are animals who belong, for up to 100 or so years, to this earth, while simultaneously we are souls who belong infinitely to another realm, string, or timeline—I have yet to parse this out exactly—and while we are here, we belong not only to ourselves, but to the world and those other creatures who inhabit it. In Genesis, humans are given the role of caretakers of the other animals on this planet—so what? it’s a metaphor, mythology, or allegory; we learn from those all of the time. We are not separate from nature, but we are part of it; in fact, we’re the ones who are supposed to make sure the plants and the animals—every last living thing— stay safe and well, so we can all be fruitful and multiply. There’s a reason that all of nature—a hike, a swim, lying in the grass, watching the clouds, feeling the rain— feels so fucking good to us. We belong to it, animals, so deal with it.

How, you may ask, does that effect how I plan to live out my goals this year? Fountain writes, “Even as/ the great abstractions come to take you away,/ the regrets, the distractions, you can at any second/ come back to the world to which you belong,/ the world you never left, won’t ever leave, cells/ forever, forever going through their changes, [. . .].” I hope to come back to this world. I hope to be sober and present in each moment in which I live. I hope to love every thing and every one in that moment. I hope to be vulnerable by sharing the best, and worst, parts of who I am and to allow myself to be shaped for good by those who love me. I hope to move a lot and consume moderately and read some and write some in mindfulness. I hope to honor who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming. I hope.

Sunrise on Ash Wednesday

Lent is my favorite church season, followed closely by Advent, which is weird because I hate to wait. I am a really bad wait-er. The reason these are my two favorite seasons of the church calendar isn’t that Lent or Advent are particularly happy, because Lent certainly is not happy. I am also not a masochist, so I don’t love these two seasons because of my intense need for self-punishment at waiting. My love for Lent and Advent probably has more to do with the fact that I know how long I will be waiting, and I know the outcome of the wait. I know that at the end of the 40-ish days, there will be a big event that makes the wait worthwhile. At the end there is a birth, there is resurrection. There is hope.

Another of my favorite things is the day when I realize that the sun is rising again on my way to work, when I am not driving the entire hour-ish in the dark. Driving out of the darkness into a sunrise is the best way to start a day of work, or of travel, or even of play. Especially if that sunrise is filled with purple deepness and yellow brightness and red intensity. The sunrise brings with it a sense of a new beginning; there is hope; the beauty of the earth is a forever thing.

The most beautiful day right now in my life is the day when Ash Wednesday and the sunrise morning happen to coincide. In other words, today is my most beautiful day.

On my way to school this morning, I listened to a podcast called “Everything Happens” featuring Kate Bowler and Nadia Bolz-Weber. In the conversation, they talk about how things happen and about how we frame the bad things that happen: “I think that those kinds of ideas, you know, the reason it hurts is because it’s painful, not like, the reason this thing in your life is hard is because hard things in life are hard. It’s not a spiritual failing of yours that this feels bad. Hard things feel hard. Period” (Bolz-Weber). My take away is that we try to make difficult things seem like they are our fault, but we always think the beautiful things are someone else’s fault. Maybe just take away fault. Bad things are bad. Good things are good. Beautiful things are beautiful. Things are.

The sunrise morning, and the beginning of my favorite season of the church calendar, happening on the same day makes me joy filled and helps me to recognize how beautiful God is and how amazing [Their] work in this world is.

I’ve started this post a million times…

or so it seems. I usually know with a certain level of accuracy how to express what I am feeling, but this week I am at a loss for words. I’m unsure what to say, and I’m unsure what to think, and I’m unsure what to do.

I’ve heard people say that the election resonated with them in the same way that the Pulse shooting resonated with them, but that’s not quite it for me. I’ve heard people say that they feel like a homeless person, because their home has been taken from them by force, but I can’t say that because I’ve never been homeless.

There are countless other ways people have described their disappointment, including a customer who came in, in tears, because she fears for her autistic son’s well-being and the loss of Arctic animals because of climate change. I, too, am scared—no terrified—for my GLBT+, non-white, non-“Christian” friends and the earth. I’m pissed that we are in a war in Standing Rock, North Dakota with indigenous people who are trying to protect the tiny bit of land that they were given by our government. This article by Code Switch is an excellent article about what’s going on there.

I feel like I am inside some bad trip, where nothing makes sense, and someone is trying to help me down, but I can’t come down. I’m just stuck, here, in an alternate world where nothing makes sense and nothing adds up. People, who I previously considered friends, intelligent friends, say things that make no sense, things that don’t follow any kind of consistent ethic, and that don’t align with their previously stated morality.

I keep seeing these things posted on Facebook walls of people who voted for Donald Trump, and I can’t wrap my head around how people can reconcile this bit of Scripture with the running platform of our President Elect:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart. Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Everyone around me is angry or sad, and those who aren’t angry or sad are elated and willing to tell me so. Over and over again. People I don’t know post hateful things on my Facebook timeline.  I spent fifteen minutes yesterday with a customer who told me all about how the next four years are going to be the best of his life. When I said, okay, he said, your products are going to be made in the US again. I said, okay, and he just kept talking about how P.E. Trump is trying so hard to establish himself as a good president. I said, okay.

I’m tired. I’m taking a break.

*

About four months ago, on my 42nd birthday, I set some goals. The older I get, the easier it is for me to just ignore my goals, to not care about meeting those goals, or to just be lackadaisical about accomplishing them.

On this coming Sunday, Advent begins, so I think I might try to accomplish my goal of going to church. I think I need it. I think you need for me to go. I say this because I have not been my best self for the majority of November. Maybe a baby Jewish refugee in a wooden cow trough, who was birthed to an unwed teenage mother and father, who was brought gifts by “foreigners,” who was worshipped by the working class, and who was later saved from infanticide at the hands of the ruling class will be just the miracle to bring me around.

Anyway, I set a couple of other goals, too: running, compassion, pay it forward, social media and creativity, and finances.

I am working on running, while also playing soccer and nursing my plantar fascia on my right foot. I won’t be running a full marathon again next summer, but I am going to run a 25K trail race at Afton; 15 miles is a more accomplishable goal for me this year.

Compassion, which includes going to church, seems to be going the best right now, since I am trying so hard to understand what makes people do what they do. I’m also trying to work at allowing myself to be in someone else’s shoes; I’m hoping that maybe I will somehow be able to better understand my fellow humans. I’ve also been a bit of a slacker when it comes to meditation, so I need to refocus on this aspect of my life as well. I can really tell when I practice mindfulness and when I don’t. I’m not so mindful right now. I’ve been vegetarian, but not vegan, which is something I will fix at the new year.

I still haven’t worked on paying it forward, and I’d love to find somewhere to volunteer every week, even though my schedule is a bit wacky, I could just RTO time each week for volunteering.

The social media and creativity goal is the one that I should’ve kept working on with diligence. More than any of the goals. I find that being on social media is really damaging to my psyche. People are mean. I should’ve been drawing or printmaking, instead of spending all those hours on Facebook, getting angrier.

Finally, my finances are slowly improving. I’m paying more on all of my credit cards each month, and I have a separate savings account, where I deposit all of my wages from Caribou, for vacation spending. We went to New York and I paid for all but the dog boarding with cash, but I quickly paid off the dog boarding upon our return.

So, while I’m not making major headway, I feel like I am making some. I’m also taking a break. Until after the holidays. Peace. Grace. Joy. Love. Hope.

My Hips and Knees Are Sore, So I Must Be Running Again

If you follow me on here, you know I set a few goals for this—my forty-second—year, and you know I said I’d check in on each goal every month on this day. I have to admit that I am not super inspired to write today, but I am going to give a run down of how my goals are progressing.

RUNNING: Let’s start with running, since that was the goal that sparked all of this. Running is both a blessing and a struggle. It’s frustrating to me when I look back at old photos and see myself 50 pounds lighter and a lot better at running, both faster and farther. But I’m doing it. I’m building my way back up to being a runner, instead of someone who simply wants to run and never does. This morning, for example, I ran 48 minutes on some fairly difficult trail at Afton State Park. Don’t ask how (not that) far I ended up going in that 48 minutes, because I’d be embarrassed to tell you, but I did it. I got up. I went to the park. I ran. That goal of running 26.2 in less than 6 hours seems so far off, I can’t even fathom it at this point, but I know I can do it. With my friend Molly supporting me and cheering me on, I can do nearly anything, even if my hips and knees get sore.

COMPASSION: The vegan diet part of this one is going really well. I’m kind of disgusted with the meat industry, so this part of the compassion goal is much easier. I never have a problem having compassion for animals; their sweet faces make it so easy to love them. Self-care and compassion is always a bit more difficult for me. Have I been to church regularly since I wrote these goals? No. And every Sunday, I say I’m going to go and then I don’t. I need to try harder in regards to my spirituality. I’m letting a lot of opportunity fall through the cracks. It’s a good thing I’m checking in on these goals I’ve set, because I have been neglecting a lot about this compassion goal: I’ve not been meditating every day, like I planned, and I haven’t been praying while running. Here is a place where I can do some serious focusing and bear down to accomplish wellness.

PAY IT FORWARD: Now that I look at this goal, it’s closely coupled with my goal of being more compassionate. I’ve been focusing on the work part of this goal, and trying to look at each customer with the love, grace, and patience I’d show my grandma. God rest her soul. I’m finding that my vocation to love is becoming easier and easier to practice, even when people can be difficult. Recently, I’ve been more able to think about how we all can be difficult and about how we all have faults. Whenever I think about how irritated I am able to get with other people, especially if my irritation is over someone’s inability to understand, I am reminded that I am likely irritated with my own insecurities more than I am irritated with that other person. In fact, I am reminded of this Thich Nhat Hanh quote: “If you are not yet able to love yourself, you will not be able to love your enemy. But when you are able to love yourself, you can love anyone. When you do this, you will see that your so called enemy is not more or less than a human being who is suffering.” The more I work on my own wellness and self-love, the more I am able to love those around me.

SOCIAL MEDIA AND CREATIVITY: I have been off of Facebook for over two months now! And, I am finding that I really don’t miss it at all. Do I miss some of the people I interacted with through Facebook? Yes, but then I think about how easy it is to find other ways—ways that are less invasive and less public—to communicate with them, and I know I made a good decision. Have I written any memoir or drawn any illustrations? No. Have I read read any books? Yes, I have been reading so much that I finally remember what it’s like to simply read for the sake of enjoyment, instead of reading to analyze text. Of everything I’ve changed in my life, reading more is the best part! I even joined the library!

FINANCES: Um, yeah. These are goals, and, um, I am certainly a work in progress in this regard. We’ll just leave that there.

Peace and cheers!