Outside

Upon waking,
my brain retreats. 
I want
I want
to avoid the inevitable hopelessness
unenviable dread
that seeps through each beginning of each beginning of each day.
I try to lever myself
I try to pry myself
into the day,
but mostly I 
Resist
the pull of normalcy in favor of  my comfortable black murk.
On some days,
the sun reaches in and grabs me by the neck.
It's a best friend who refuses 
to watch me wallow when there is 
Outside waiting.
My legs are weighted by two-ton memories and
slowed
by thick magnetic mud.
I slog with the sun pulling my neck my arm my heart toward Outside.
If I can navigate this holy map,
make it to my front door, 
dragged along, then
a surfeit of,
glimmers of
a path appear
and grow exponentially into a widening view
of 
this bird
this tree
this weed
this flower
this shadow.
This air
replaces the grey fizz fuzz buzz in my head.
And makes me feel.
Alive.
Outside.
The doorway is my magical portal
but it has a combination lock.
I fumble.

Time, Patience, Coconuts, Pileated Woodpeckers, Doodles

Time.

Photo by Jessi Watson, Thai Coconut Timepiece

As in,

...it's been a long.

That's all relative, of course.

The beginning of my hike

I have managed to maintain some online connections, and managed to attend OpenEd14 (which was fantastic and after which I got lost in VA someplace as my phone died and darkness fell and the Famous Virginia Traffic Overtook).  

My work at school has been rewarding. The pain levels in my body have not. They seem to cycle, and for the past few weeks the cycle has been Not So Good. As in, Bad. 

But.

Through these weeks, I have truly thought of my #ccourses folks daily.

I have been yearning to connect with them, but only managing the Life Minimum to succeed in "real" life, AKA my job....which basically means I have devoted what ever energy I have to my school and staff and students.

So. Connections.  

But.

We have now had ten days off from work, which has helped my pain. Less typing. Fewer desk-sitting hours.

I have been trying to Capture Moments in order to Maintain Sanity. Take advantage of the times when less pain has reared its head.

Listening to pileated woodpecker.

Books, they help a lot.  And nature.  I was able to take a gorgeous hike in Patapsco State Park and watch a pileated woodpecker for a wonderfully long time. 

Sky at Patapsco State Park

One of my students, who is homeless, has been at the Barnes and Noble store in town daily for about 8 hours a day, because his mom got a job in the mall. He and his sister can't stay at the shelter during the day, so they wait at the book store. I have been showing up there with my chess board and challenging him to a few games as we both learn to play chess.  

A colleague and I have been playing Chess With Friends across space and time. I'm awful, but willing and learning!  (You wanna?)

Another student has mainstreamed back to his home school, but I maintain contact with his mom.  He and I went on New Year's Eve to see the new Hunger Games movie. Popcorn ensued, and discussions of The Walking Dead, and mostly I was just happy to see him.  He has grown 6 inches since I last saw him.

My BFF and I have seen some amazing films as well - Imitation Game, Theory of Everything, Fury, Unbroken, Wild.

And.

PopArt filter on Zendoodle of owl

I am learning a new meditation-doodling method called Zentangle, which I am really enjoying. Hoping to incorporate it into our SEL program at school.

Embossed Filter on Bird Zendoodle

Most days for me consist of a choice between accomplishing a lot (more pain) and accomplishing a little (less pain). 

Today was a good day.

And...tomorrow will be another good one.

I need a cMOOC.

Deckadence

I sit decadently on my deck each night and eat the newest freshest peas right off the vine. To heck with acid rain, 
this is my version of organic. 
Nothing has ever tasted better. I made this food.
I chase it with a beer.

I grow things now.  I never used to.  I can't get past the addictive nature of creating something from a seed, food I can actually eat.  In my kitchen are jars of seeds, sprouts in pans, little tiny tendrils of nutrition.  I fend off the apocalypse for one more day.  Surely with these seeds, I can survive a while longer.  They are my mid-life babies, my menopausal offspring. They surround me with green when the world feels bloody gray and hopeless.

My deck is my sanctuary, my neighborhood not the best, the boards under my feet warped and worn, my grass not always trimmed the way the HOA would like, this is middle class, make no bones about it.  The cops who visit the courts don't see the irony of all of the "being in court" but they come here often anyway.  They are our entertainment through the windows as the crazy neighbor screams illogical nonsense at her boyfriend and child.  I am grateful for police diligence but allow myself to watch the craziness, that was me once, long ago, so I see both sides. 

I sit and listen, I feed my birds, I thrill in the bright yellow finches, the mischievous chickadees, the tiny chipping sparrows with itty bitty rooster combs that pop up at odd times.  
Right now it's fledgeling time; adolescent birds holler and beg their way through the day while patient parents feed them the seeds they could easily get for themselves. I like these mom and dad birds, the way they shield their children from the eventual reality for as long as possible.  


A robin has laid two clutches in my shed this summer, on top of a humane trap I used for catching baby stray cats. I love this irony as well, she chose the perfect spot, no predator can reach her chicklets.  She lets me see them, I anthropomorphize enough to think she trusts me. 

Here's my morning - feed the cats, make tea, grab a book, go check on the garden.  Examine each leaf while wearing reading glasses.  Add food to bird feeder. Sit on deck and read for as long as possible before life calls.

I have no hot tub, no expensive trips, but I can see the mountains from my deck, and things are growing.  Everywhere I look, I see green.  My neighbor cut my grass the other day.  My other neighbor offered me steamed crabs over the fence.  My neighbors are all colors, shapes and sizes. Make no bones about it, this is middle class.  Life is good. I choose this.