arbitrary dates for self-reflection
in 2008, probably the best and worst year of my young life, i:
* held my dying cat kari, the heart of my heart, my companion of more than fifteen years, while she took her last breaths.
* visited friends and family in berkeley and san francisco.
* stage managed two shows for public playhouse (moonlight and magnolias and daughters), stage managed the “made in oregon” series and the promising playwrights at jaw this summer, and was on the backstage crew for a christmas carol at portland center stage.
* finally managed to sell my car, and lived off the proceeds for awhile.
* found a well of happiness within myself (somewhere in my belly).
* fell in love.
* biked over 230 miles in three days in april, from my doorstep in portland to my parents’ house in sammamish, washington.
* biked in provence with my dad and my brother.
* made plans to spend two months in india in the fall, which were later cancelled due to the angst mentioned below and other angst related to other bike vs. car collisions. it was a rough summer, what can i say?
* got hit by a pick-up truck while riding my bike, resulting in a broken collarbone, a busted knee, some post-traumatic anxiety crap, and a whole lot of angst.
* lived in the jungle in beautiful hippied-out puna, hawaii for a month, doing work-trade for my jungle-hut accommodations, swimming in the ocean, dancing, playing, and exploring.
* appreciated the hell out of my friends and family.
* read 35 novels, seven books of short stories, a couple dozen plays, four graphic novels, one biography, one book of poetry, two travel memoirs, four books that defy categorization, and nearly 70 zines of varying length and quality. i also started reading three books that i did not finish.
at the end of 2007, i answered the question “do you have any plans for 2008?” with simply this: “the future is full of possibilities!” 2009 approaches and, well, the future is still full of possibilities. just the way i like it.
here are my resolutions/revolutions/evolutions for 2009:
a. recently took these photos in goa:
new happy your to you!
healing
this is what my collarbone looked like on june 12th:
this is what my collarbone looks like as of this morning, when i had my (hopefully!) very last orthopedist appointment:
my body did that all by itself! with just a little initial help from some fabric and straps. i am so impressed!
this is what it looks like on the outside:
give & take
i had a great day today. i invited a friend over for dinner and made us both acorn squash soup with sweet red pepper puree. first i filled the kitchen with smoke and burned the bottom of one of our pots. then i broke a bowl. made a mess, splashed soup everywhere… and laughed it off. the soup–made from a recipe for butternut squash soup, and with at least a couple other substitutions–was, after all that, pretty delicious. we ate ’til we were stuffed. there’s leftovers in the fridge.
this morning i rode to the theatre one last time (for this show, anyway). it rained. i haven’t replaced my fenders for the season–i need to buy a new pair ’cause the old ones were melted in a fire–ooooh what a summer it has been–and the rain soaked through my rain pants but i had a spare pair of pants (seriously!) in my amazing everything-but-the-kitchen-sink bag. draped my jeans over a chair and packed up props. came home, got cozy, bought groceries, talked to my mom about the endless possibilities.
i am really racking up possibilities these days. today i am simultaneously excited by these possibilities and just simply happy with my life as it is today. my messy backyard. the library four blocks away. the roadways-not-improved criss-crossing my street. the sound of the washing machine. my cat asleep on his favorite couch. the photos tacked up on my wall, so many good things in my past:
it is nice for a moment to not think too much about all those possibilities. to just, well, be here now. the rain, the soup, the friend, whatever.
last night i biked home at midnight singing “fly me to the moon,” except i don’t know all the words, so a lot of it was “da da da daaaaahhh.” it started to rain a mile or two in and instead of stopping to pull on my rain gear, i decided i couldn’t wait to be soaked through. unfortunately it didn’t turn out to be that kind of rain, and i arrived home just a little moist. my housemate and my cat on the couch. kepler (my cat) looked up at me over the arm of the couch and blinked slowly. i turned on the tap in the bathroom sink for him to drink from.
from this show, i have: a small paycheck, $25 to spend at powell’s from the cast, one helluva caffeine dependency, and an african violet that i will try my darnedest to keep alive, at least for the next week and a half or so before i leave town.
a few days ago, someone used an email list that my aunt (who lives in san francisco and who taught at new college there) put together months ago to announce a dance performance that she choreographed, to announce the death of a new college graduate named kirsten brydum. i didn’t know her or anyone else on the email list (which eventually devolved into pointless pettiness and a dozen “please take me off this list” emails, anyway), but because of the link included with the email, i was able to read some journal entries she wrote for her friends and family, which was a real, thoughtful pleasure. i am sorry for her death and for the way she died, but grateful for her faith in people and for the way her life was able to touch me today. small serendipities, i suppose.
one of the first few people to reply to the email list signed her email “take/give care,” and the same day, one of the actors in the show (a really fantastic person who i am so glad i was able to meet; i hope we work together over and over if possible) picked up my notebook and wrote a note on a blank page, “stacia– remember when you are in hawaii to give of yourself freely–as much as you take–or should i say receive–that’s a better word. open yourself to the beautiful universe and invite it in.”
so that is what i have been thinking about these small quiet days. what i want to give–for now i just mean in small interactions–versus what i want to take. when i focus on what i want or need to give, what i want or need to take becomes what i’ve pretty much already got. i mean that sounds so cliché and saccharine… and i am trying to write in vague terms rather than in intimate detail because that’s how i roll lately, but i’m not used to it yet and i’m still learning the ropes. i feel like life has been asking me lately to be so self-centered–or at least i have been letting myself believe it’s “life” and not my self-centered self–but it’s pretty stressful to be the center of the freakin’ universe. ok and life’s finally changing and moving on. i think i’m only a few days from being done with dealing with the insurance company. left with a lumpy collarbone and a big chunk of change. here we go: possibilities.
amy hempel: how [do] we know that what happens to us isn’t good?
or:
o heart weighed down by so many wings.
–joseph hutchinson
anger & impotence
this past saturday afternoon i biked to the theatre as usual. on the way, two things happened. first, i was nearly doored on se 42nd ave between holgate and gladstone. i was riding as far to the left in the bike lane as possible, to avoid the door zone, but some dude swung the door wide open right in front of me and despite my caution i was about two inches away from getting nailed. why are so many bike lanes in portland narrow and painted right next to parked cars? i don’t know.
maybe twenty minutes later i’m riding through the pearl district on nw 12th ave. i’m taking the lane because it’s lined with parked cars and i don’t move much slower than traffic when there’s so many stop signs and traffic lights. it’s fine–i turn left at nw johnson after stopping at the stop sign there. i’m about five feet up the street when i hear someone behind me yell, “idiot!”
i turn around the and driver who was behind me at the stop sign is in the middle of the intersection with his window down, looking at me. “excuse me?” i say.
“you’re an idiot!” he repeats.
“why?” i ask him. he starts to answer but he’s driving away and all i hear is “you’re the–” before his engine drowns him out. i start pedaling again, and get about to the end of the block before i burst into tears. all of a sudden i feel so overwhelmed by anger and impotence and helplessness and frustration that it’s all i can do to breathe.
i got to the theatre eventually, but that feeling stuck with me for the rest of the night, and i spent a lot of the show lying on my back on the floor of the booth. when i got home (i rode the bus…) i even posted a “missed connection” on craigslist to ask this guy why, why am i an idiot? the only responses i got were from people telling me to let it go, that obviously he’s the idiot, oh and btw pink hair rocks (i’d included some identifying details). i know i should follow their advice. i even know that it’s not about that asshole…
today i started going over my accident (ugh i hate that word) in great, slow detail with a therapist i’ve started seeing. much of the story is so familiar to me that it’s pretty much rote at this point, but she regularly interrupted me and asked for more detail or, more interestingly, to check in with what my body was doing. what my body was doing was holding on as tight as possible to that trauma, holy shit. it was tense and fidgety and at one point i even felt dizzy. it is pretty clear to me that i am not crazy, just traumatized. on the other hand, it’s pretty clear to me that i’m traumatized.
often recently (i guess i mean in the past week or so) my life has felt very calm, quiet and small. i spend a lot of time at home alone during the day because i’m working from home right now and my housemates all have jobs and school. i pet my cat, drink smoothies, walk to the grocery store. but where there should be peace beneath that surface there is not. it wouldn’t be accurate to say that there’s all kinds of negativity “bubbling beneath the surface” or anything like that. that’s not really what i mean. i just know that i have a lot of work to do. that i am carrying a whole lot of shit around with me and i don’t have any peace even when i do have calm and quiet, and small things set me off and make me feel so hopeless. i am trying to be patient with myself and with the world, but it’s hard. it’s not a matter of perspective (i have all kinds of perspective. i know i am lucky that it wasn’t worse, lucky that i have the support of my family, lucky that i live someplace where an ambulance arrived very quickly to take care of me, lucky that the driver didn’t try to escape responsibility, etc etc); it’s a matter of letting myself acknowledge that this has been, and probably will continue to be, fucking hard. it’s affected pretty much every aspect of my life for the past several months. so. there you go.
i would like to start setting concrete goals for myself every week so i have something to work towards and something to get myself up and doing when i find myself acting depressed and alone. in the next week i will:
1) meditate at least three times for at least 15 minutes, and
2) read something that will challenge me intellectually.
two things about my body
thing one about my body
my lovely lady lump:
thing two about my body
this evening just now i was kind of idly wondering how fast i could run a mile. the last time i ran a continuous mile was sometime in high school when i was made to for p.e. class. it took me ten minutes and forty seconds, i think. i was very impressed with myself because the time before that (in middle school) i’d been one of those kids who takes so long they write down “15+ minutes” for your time.
so i went out and did it. i mapped out a mile loop from my house, put on some sneakers, grabbed my stopwatch (which i use all the time as a stage manager) and ran out the door.
for the record it took me ten minutes and six seconds.
this is crazy i hate jogging but it felt pretty good.
looking up in looking down
i’m trying this again. my blog at log.whyiamnotdying.net gets about a bazillion spam comments a day lately, and i never felt totally myself writing there, which is probably why i mostly just posted a whole lot of photographs. plus, this seemed like the easiest way to upgrade to the new version of wordpress. i think i can write some stuff that’s suitable for public consumption without feeling stilted and weird if i just stop, i dunno, thinking about it too much. and i really would like to have a “travel” log ’cause life really is one hell of a journey these days. so here we go.
physically, i am pretty much healed from my june 12th injuries (when i was hit by a pick-up truck on my bike, resulting in a broken collarbone and some muscle damage in my right knee), though i’m still working on my strength and flexibility, and sleeping on my left side and carrying weight over my left shoulder are still uncomfortable. i also have a pretty ridiculous lump where the break was. emotionally… this too shall pass.
i’m not going to india as planned this fall/winter. i cancelled my plane tickets a couple of weeks ago. it’s not the right time for me, for several reasons, and i know it.
instead, i’m going to the big island of hawaii for a month to live and volunteer at an eco-hostel i found through the wwoof hawaii directory. for ages i’ve had this idea that wwoofing in hawaii is my “plan b” for when everything else went wrong. everything went a little bit wrong this summer, and so. i think it’s going to be pretty low-key for wwoofing, but that’s just as well for my healing body and mind. i am looking forward to being salty and sweaty. the place is called hedonisia and it’s about 4 miles from pahoa. i’m still trying to decide whether it’s worth the hassle and the extra cost to try to bring my bike with me.
in the meantime, i’m stage managing a show (2 weekends left in the run) and have some real employment lined up for when i get home from hawaii. i mean theatre employment–i mean they’re paying me! a more-than-symbolic amount! i am stagehanding during the holidays and then stage managing a show at a children’s theatre, which i am pretty excited about, most of the time. sometime last month i started getting all these indications that my efforts to establish myself in the theatre community here have begun to pay off… at the same time that i started to think about whether this kind of theatre work is really what i want to do with myself. i am so interested in running (or pedaling) off out of town all the time and sometimes i feel so very, very young and sometimes i feel like i oughta just grow up already.
too many tough goodbyes.
at least i am back on my beautiful bike.
there is a lot of hope in here somewhere.
lastly:
“The Man in Bogotá”
by Amy Hempel
The police and emergency service people fail to make a dent. The voice of the pleading spouse does not have the hoped-for effect. The woman remains on the ledge–though not, she threatens, for long.
I imagine that I am the one who must talk the woman down. I see it, and it happens like this.
I tell the woman about a man in Bogotá. He was a wealthy man, an industrialist who was kidnapped and held for ransom. It was not a TV drama; his wife could not call the bank and, in twenty-four hours, have one million dollars. It took months. The man had a heart condition, and the kidnappers had to keep the man alive.
Listen to this, I tell the woman on the ledge. His captors made him quit smoking. They changed his diet and made him exercise every day. They held him that way for three months.
When the ransom was paid and the man was released, his doctor looked him over. He found the man to be in excellent health. I tell the woman what the doctor said then–that the kidnap was the best thing to happen to that man.
* * *
Maybe this is not a come-down-from-the-ledge story. But I tell it with the thought that the woman on the ledge will ask herself a question, the question that occurred to that man in Bogotá. He wondered how we know that what happens to us isn’t good.
