Silence is not an option


“Every act of kindness, every act of goodness, now matters more than you ever thought it mattered before. You turn yourself into an active agent of change, because now it matters.” – Carolyn Myss
 

This is a message that cannot be divorced from this moment in time when we are mourning what Lee Pelton, President of Emerson College, calls “the legalized lynching” of George Floyd. 

This moment is about complicity in systemIc racism that we have always been aware of and haven’t done enough about.

“We’ve got to be as clear-headed about human beings as possible, because we are still each other’s only hope.”  – James Baldwin 

The term “upstander” (as opposed to bystander), was coined in 2002 by Samantha Power, who was at the time a human rights advocate and scholar before assuming a role as U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, in speaking out against genocide.
Respected primatologist, Dr. Jane Goodall is an upstander.

She has committed to (via replanting or restoration) 5 million trees this year as part of the 1 Trillion Tree Campaign of UNEP. 

At age 85, she is not slowing down because she knows, and has always known, that there is power in every single person doing their part to make the planet a better place.
 

Although thankfully most of us have probably never even been close to being a victim or perpetrator of genocide, we don’t need the atrocity of genocide to weigh in on whether we can or should help others. 

“An upstander is a person who recognizes injustice, knows their personal strengths,  and uses those strengths to create change.”
                                                                  – Canadian Museum for Human Rights
   

An upstander may speak out publicly against bigotry and injustice.
elson Mandala Exhibit – Canadian Humans Rights Museum


An upstander may help or rescue others through secret or overt actions.
Window washers at the Alberta Children’s Hospital, Calgary


An upstander may provide immediate aid to victims of bigotry and injustice through physical rescue or other help. 
1969, when black Americans were still prevented from swimming alongside white Americans.  – Mr. Rogers Neighborhood

An upstander may be a whistle-blower who exposes wrongdoing. 
Statue of Mahatma Gandhi in Honolulu, Hawaii


An upstander may resist the temptations of silence and passivity by expressing and offering support directly to victims of bigotry and injustice.
National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee

Discernment is key to every wisdom tradition.  The ability to discern is about sorting out the stuff of life — our experiences, the people we spend time with, and as Toni Morrison writes, eliminating a vacuum where curiosity ought to lodge.
 We can ask ourselves:

Is this my problem or does it belong to someone else?Is this life-giving for me and those around me or is it death-dealing in ways small or large?Is this something to which I can give myself or must I let it go?                                
Either do something or do something. 

Theodore Roosevelt said that in any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.

You don’t always need a plan. Sometimes you just need to breathe and put your feelers out. Trust. Let go. And see what happens. 
You can’t do it all,  but you can do all that you can do.
We don’t need special gifts or start a mini-revolution to make a difference.

It doesn’t have to be great big huge – it can be very small. Just a little bit every day.
Even if it’s something like praying for someone every day. 

That is good enough. 

Leaving a  pie left on a front porch.

That is good enough. 

Even the smallest act can make a real difference in somebody’s life.There are many lanes.

Are we too busy to cheer a weary soul, give some words of reassurance, or the gift of our welcoming ear?

Sr. Simone Campbell, lawyer, nun, poet, and a bit of a religious rock star as the face of the “Nuns on the Bus”, calls this “the walking willing.”
 
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”  – Martin Luther King
If we say we don’t have time for things that matter, then we need to stop doing things that don’t.

Actions are always louder than words.

And so are non-actions. Because if you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time.
“We cannot talk about change, we have to be about change.” – L.A. City Council President Nury Martinez 
The most important question now is: What are you going to do?

Is it suppossed to…?

The other day, I was on my walk and it’s raining. Not enough to absolutely need an umbrella, just a constant drizzle that dripped down my hoodie, dampened my mood, and coated my glasses, making things look just a little bit better than they should have been.Just ahead of me, a man stepped out of his building, looked up with a squint, and put his palm out. He stopped me.“Excuse me,” he said. “Is it supposed to be raining today?”“No, it wasn’t supposed to be,” I told him. “But it is.”He nodded, thanked me, and went back inside. Maybe to stay inside, maybe to get an umbrella. Maybe to put on a tux and howl at the refrigerator. I don’t know what the guy does when it rains.

Humans! We look out our windows, and then check our phone app and other humans to verify – “Is what’s happening supposed to be happening?”

As if we could lodge a complaint with The Sky for not coordinating itself with The Weather Channel.


Supposed to…

“Is this bread dough supposed to be turning a yellowish-grey and crumbling?”

“Are we supposed to be working out? It looks exhausting.”

“Am I supposed to be extremely lazy?”

“Is the kitchen, living room and backyard supposed to be the cafe, meeting space, and boardroom?”

“Are you supposed to be able to put your legs behind your head while eating a cupcake?”

We love to be told what we already know.

This is actually a godsend for anyone that makes a living telling people what they already know. Or are supposed to.
 

  • That a colour scheme based on mottled liver is not the best choice.
  • That sweatpants are the new black. 
  • That a snack every three minutes may soon have you on an episode of My 600-lb Life
  • That your glasses are under the pillow because you fell asleep with them on.
  • That scrolling through Instagram is code for procrastination.
  • That having full blown conversations with inanimate objects while maybe muted on ZOOM, may not be the best idea.
  • That it’s alright to adapt airport rules and have a drink at 9 a.m.

This is great because we don’t have to deliver brand new information every time. We don’t have to come up with another interpretation, create an complex process, or invent a reason why their brownies aren’t rising. Or that 2020 hasn’t been the easiest year.

All we have to do is tell people what we know. And do it in our own way. 

We can tell people what they’ve heard before, what’s staring them right in the face. Literally. There is rain falling on their head, and they want to know, “Is it raining?”

Yesterday I bought a 20 kg bag of flour for $14.99 because it was a good deal. Then I had to order a $50 storage bin to hold it so it wouldn’t spoil. I guess what I’m saying is, I suppose I may not be the best person to hand out information.

You probably knew this. But you wanted me to tell you, right?



Excuse me, but I’m getting ready to not go out. It’s raining.

P.S. Remember, Rapunzel was quarantined and met her future husband, so let’s think positive here.
 

Sweatpants are the new black

Encompassed with an ever-encroaching case of quarantine brain, I have been spending an inordinate amount of time trolling the internet looking for topic ideas, as my goal is to keep you reasonably happy and under control so we can get on with things.

I found one article entitled, “7 Ways to Come Up With Ideas When You Have Nothing to Write About, but so far all I have come up with is the best ear medication for parakeets, the 1997 tooth whitening epidemic, and the lucrative business of selling snake carcasses. None of which, I am guessing, is of much help. Like E.B. White said, it’s like dissecting a frog: few people are interested and the frog dies of it. 
 
Even if I never come up with anything more stimulating than finding out who holds the world record for the most sticky notes stuck on the body in 30 seconds, I do fall asleep every night feeling my writing is making more of a difference in the world than it ever would by selling hats to iguanas or knitting wool socks for snails.

Because when you’re on to something good, why not punish more? 

After all, I do want to make my feelings known – and people uncomfortable. 
 
Many say writing is a solitary journey, but I feel it really should be a public performance art done before an audience of as many people as will tolerate it.



It’s difficult explaining exactly what I’m doing with my life right now, other than having strangers deliver light fixtures to sites, source king sheets online, and triple explain why there is funny coloured dust on the new countertop via FaceTime.

Nevertheless, I want to talk to you about my current perplexing situation, other than where I should put the pizza box because it doesn’t fit in the fridge.

Here is it.

I have received militant accusations of being gossipy and a somewhat inaccurate author.
 
My immediate reaction was to give up my citizenship and move to Moldova (when and if they ever let us out of the house).

Then I quickly realized that to do that, I would have slower internet and have to spend the rest of my life whittling spoons by a fire.

And you know I hate to operate anything more mechanical than a safety pin.

Besides, I heard that in Moldava, the local hangover cure is pickle juice.

Not interested.

But upon further research, I discovered that Moldava’s largest and most revered holiday is National Wine Day and that they want to implement something new – moderate wine consumption.

On further thought, this may be my kind of country. 
 
But back to my problem.Regardless of what some litigiousness critics say, I am deeply hurt by these charges.
Because first, as Anne Lamont quipped, if you would have behaved better, I would have spoken more warmly about you and secondly, who of you really knows how to use an ampersand?Still there?

Good.
I surmise that even at the best of times most people are incapable of distinguishing between last week and the extinction of dinosaurs, never mind comprehending the fact that I wasn’t born in 1607, it isn’t January 74th, or believing all the stuff that happened to me a few years back when I got kind of turned around geographically – okay, lost. Because there are some thatare a few eggs short of a full breakfast, which amplifies the effectiveness of relating the business of resonant, weird, unimportant, and milquetoast ideas (mine) that are unlikely to be found anywhere else. 
 
It’s not like I fail to relate to others and misread social cues, because really, I’m pretty sure that I’m more than a smidge above average.
 
So I have decided that no matter how off-putting and altogether false these allegations are, I will continue to abide by the secret of all life skills – telling people what they should do.


 “But you pretty much wrote about nothing.”, to which I say, “PRECISELY”. 
Please accept my thanks in lieu of monetary gifts and have a vegan dark chocolate tonight.
 

Love in the time of Corona

The first step to take is to become aware that love is art, just as living is an art; if you want to learn how to love we must proceed in the same way we have to proceed if we want to learn any art, say music, painting, carpentry, or the art of medicine or engineering. – Eric Fromm

Over the past few weeks, some of us have developed a “pandemic personality” having to jam full lives into the cramped bubble of our apartment or house.

We are found muttering passive-aggressive rhetorical questions under our breath:
”What kind of person leaves a vacuum cleaner in the middle of the kitchen?”

“Who sprays bleach on a mirror?”

“Does a frying pan really need to soak for three days?”

“Why are you soaping down the dog every time you go for a walk?”

 

Hoods, Headspaces and Heartspaces

Some of us are ecstatic that we get to spend so much time together, then miserable because we’re deciding to divorce, then ecstatic that we’re going to divorce.

Cause no one signed up for a marriage where you have to rely on your spouse for bloody everything.
 

Life Between Lattes


Now add children:

On video call to boss.

Boss: “I need you to…”

(4 kids run by: one on fire, one naked, two in ski masks and capes.)

Boss: “Never mind.”
 

You wonder how long this home school thing will go on. Like, will you have to teach your kids med school?

 

You do your best, sitting in isolation for hours, keeping a safe distance from your family. You hear them outside the door, shouting words of encouragement.

Your kids – “Make us breakfast!” 

And your spouse – “GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM. YOU AREN’T SICK!”


By the way, if you are getting a little tired of seeing your family’s face every day, you could always spice things up by drawing moustaches on everyone. 
 

We now have to treat every trip for groceries as though Safeway was a beachhead in Normandy. Gas masks optional. In and out in 90 seconds (including paying for them).
 

Every day we look out the window and see the same people and the same dogs, at trees begging to bloom, at rabbits bounding free in the streets, at wispy clouds floating overhead, waiting for the day we are allowed to open our doors to a safer reality. 

Sit Up Service

Some of us are attempting to stay fit. 


“Staying” would imply that there was a level of fitness to maintain.  

Pro tip: Wake up in the morning and get right into your workout gear. That way you’ve got a much higher chance of spending your entire day in workout gear.

Breakfast-Lunch-Dinner-Sleep-Repeat

Then there are some of us who are so bored, we have started to read the back of our shampoo bottle. Yesterday, I found the booklet that came with the circular saw and for the first time in my life, read the whole thing. Not that I ever plan to use it. Then again…

Sometimes extreme boredom makes me go check the amount of toilet paper remaining and put on shoes just to see how they feel.

I also found you can tweet from the fetal position while crying.

Cave of Creativity to Paranoia Park

Barricaded in our bedrooms in front of our computers, we toy with the idea of opening a new browser to find clever ways to use dryer lint around the house, or filling a virtual cart with comfy sweat pants or clearance-priced party clothes we can’t wear anywhere.

We Zoom-meet people in squares, while judging everyone’s living room furniture, silently hoping a cat walks through a frame.

We are all still learning how this works, beginning to ask with a greater level of sincerity: “How are you?”

And if you live alone, it’s a master class in solitude.

This time Invites us to question our certainties, our givens, that have lured us into complacency.

Hopefully sharing this collective experience of non-experience will afford us a higher level of deeper compassion and respect for each other, having reciprocity as our bandwidth, working together for a greener, sustainable, and more peaceful world.

OK, time to take off my housecoat, it’s afternoon now.

Hey, who ate my breakfast Pringles?
 

My Curve is Not Flattening

There are two types of self-isolators: the type whose day care/gym/office isn’t an open all hours restaurant – and the rest of us.

And I no longer have a relationship with my calendar. My days collapse one into another. Sunday morphs into Tuesday and on into Friday, the dividing lines vanish like invisible ink, Pinot Noir figuring prominently.


To help paint our lives into new and challenging corners with Buddha-like patience, we need things to look forward to and things to comfort us throughout the day, so we don’t spiral out with locked down fatigue.

They don’t have to be great big huge.

Never discount simple, yet sublime pleasures like that first sip of hot coffee, the soft notes of mediation music played as soon as you rise, or the sun on the herbs growing in the window box, for us to become uncomplicatedly happy.
 
Today, what can you do for yourself to feel nourished and affirmed, to be self beneficiaries of kindness and reassurance
 

Go for a long walk without purpose, preferably in nature,

Let your thoughts dissipate, free up, or run wild in the almost car-free streets, with clear skies, fresh air, and a surreal quiet where you look up when you hear a rare airplane.

Take a book with you and read a few chapters.

Or do a little yoga and some stretches.
 
I don’t know about you, but I am slowly building myself up to attempt a press-up in the coming weeks.
 

Put on your favorite article of clothing.

It could be your comfy pyjamas, yoga pants, or a sequin jacket.

What’s important is that it should make you feel good about your body.
Don’t hold on to clothes that don’t reflect who you are anymore, or who you want to be. Clothes are not an indicator of your worth. If any of your clothes don’t fit well or give you pleasure when you wear them, let them go.
 
Get rid of old things that you don’t use or makes your heart hurt.
Don’t be St. Jimmy the Indecisive, the patron saint of the wishy-washy. Not only was he tortured by doubts about God’s existence, but with what shirts to hang on to.If you have stuff in your home that make you feel worse when you see them — like birthday gifts that you never liked or mementos of an old relationship — TOSS THEM. You don’t need things like that bringing you down.

Surround yourself with things that make you feel good.

Whether you stack piles of books around you, hang inspirational art, order fresh flowers, light scented candles, or keep a supply of your favourite fruit – these are simple treats that can soothe the body and soul, no matter how you look at it.P.S. Strawberry ice cream doesn’t count as a serving of fruit.
 Make a playlist of the songs you jammed to from years ago or from different stages of your life  – and let the nostalgia and good vibes roll.
 

Print out and frame some photos of family and friends.

Having visual reminders of the people who love and care about you is a homemade comfort blanket.

Decorate your space so you actually like being there.

Take good care of it – keep it clean and tidy, arrange furniture to suit how you want to live now, display items you want to see every day, and make it a place that makes you feel safe. 
 Make your bedroom as calm as possible. Smooth down your sheets, plump your pillows, and straighten your bedcovers. 

I’ve never heard of too many blankets…layer throws and piles of pillows for the perfect nap location.
 


Call your person.

Maybe it’s calling your parents to check in and get an instant boost, a favourite aunt, or you best friend from uni.

It doesn’t even have to be a long phone call — just say hi when you have a free five minutes.

Reach out to at least one person who loves and cares about you everyday. Nothing beats the reassuring intimacy of a human voice straight into the ear.

 
Write down a compliment you get.
You’re the cat’s pyjamas! Next time someone sincerely compliments you for something or you feel proud of yourself for something, write it in your phone.

You write down what groceries you need so as not to forget, so why not write down things that make you feel good too. That way when you’re feeling a little low, they are easy to access.
 


Take care of some plants.

Water them, trim their leaves, repot them in fresh soil. It can feel empowering to nurture something, but it’s also nice to connect with nature every day, if only in a small way.It’s OK to have a romantic relationship with your plant.
 

Start a gratitude journal. 

We tend to focus on negative thoughts a lot more than positive ones, so you need to give yourself a moment to check in with your happier thoughts and realities.

Every day, write down 5 things for which you are grateful. One day you might just work yourself up to tens of tens, developIng appropriate gratitude for every apparently minor thing, to celebrate the transcendent beauty of the everyday.

Practice self care. 

Take 10 minutes before bed every night to put body lotion on. While doing it, try to be really intentional about it, focusing on having positive and affirming thoughts about your body.

It’s a small act of self-love, but it will make your skin feel really soft while giving your brain a mindfulness break by focusing in on the ‘here and now’. It’s a great way to prepare for bed and you might notice how good your skin/body feels after just a few days.

Linger in a bath instead of a shower.

Buy bubbles that you love, or light a candle before you hop in. Reinvigorate daydreaming. Listen to an audiobook or podcast while you wallow.
 


It’s okay not to be okay sometimes.
It’s impossible to be happy 24/7 and it’s okay not to be okay, but it’s not okay to stay that way.
 Let yourself be down for a while, without demanding so much from yourself and without ignoring how you’re feeling. 

Let it out, even if you need to induce a cry with a a tear-jerking movie or a sad song, giving way to sadness like when you were a child. Talk to someone you trust about what you’re feeling. 
 Become a friend to yourself. Apply the generosity and compassion to yourself as you do to your friends and family. 

 You’re only human, and you’re doing your best. This Mother’s Day, let your grief and happiness intertwine; two halves of a whole.

We are all taking it one day at a time.

SEPARATED. TOGETHER. 

Journey Around Your House

Facing Day 738, I’m continuing to ponder existential questions like:

“Should I bake banana bread?” 

“What snacks will I have with cocktail hour?”

“Do I get on the scale today?”  You know, the important stuff. 
And I still haven’t decided where to go for my birthday . . . The Living Room or The Bedroom.

Given February had 29 days, March had 300 and there were 5 years in April, all of us may be wanting a change from looking at our same four walls.

If there ever was a time to think about what home means, it is now.

T
his may be the time to make your requisitioned kitchen/office, dining room/office, laundry room/office, living room/office, bedroom/office, livelier, brighter, more efficient – before you are so languorous, you start taking seeds off a strawberry with tweezers.

 
There has been much talk lately of silver linings, but one inevitable outcome is our renewed relationship with our home and the things in it. 
 And I’m not talking about your new pals  – headphones, wall outlets, hair-trimmers, speakers, floppy hats, and your credit card number.  

Every object, piece of furniture, and picture reminds us of the love we have for certain things, the hours spent scouring shops, or the good fortune to find them.    
      

I have always been a firm advocate of  “use what you already have” decorating.

In other words, before shopping for new, shopping your own home for forgotten treasures, to notice what you have already seen.

Often we already have what we need – we just don’t realise it yet. Like those barbells stashed in the back of the closet. 

While we continue to hold treasured travel memories in our heads, our hearts, and in our scrapbooks, now room travel is de rigueur. And there are no lineups at security, no flight delays, no loud passengers (well, maybe your room mate), and no waiting for your luggage.

Room traveling, or somewhat less poetically, plain old-fashioned puttering from room to room, has been legitimized by our current state of affairs.
 
The beauty of shopping your own home is that everything is free and there is an unlimited return policy. You can move things around and try them out with no risk. If you try it and don’t like it, you can put it back to how it was and in the process, you will have learned something about design, as well as about your own personal taste.
Sometimes we have become so accustomed to seeing certain things in certain places, it’s like they’ve earned the right to be there (whether they belong there or not). It’s tempting to say, “Oh, I know, I’m keeping it, but I’ll just leave it there for now.”
 The rickety dresser that’s been in the guest bedroom for as long as you can remember, is now like a member of the family. It almost feels disloyal to uproot it. But once it’s out in the backyard, with the light of day shining on it, it’s suddenly nothing more than an old, chipped dresser with drawers that won’t close properly. 

Most everything has an expiration date. Especially childhood dressers.

1. FURNITURE ARRANGEMENT 

Arranging furniture is always the first place to start with any decorating, whether in quarantine or not. The smallest tweaks in a room can make a huge difference.

Think about arranging you furniture so it makes sense for the room AND how you want it to work for your current lifestyle.

What is it that you love to do? 

Play the tuba, watch Netflix, take cute photos of the side of your neighbour’s house, bake brownies, do jigsaw puzzles, knit, water houseplants?



As an aside, I’ve tended to be very clingy toward my plant babies since the lockdown, so now I have set emotional boundaries and I don’t overwater them.
 

Rearrange rooms (not according to how many guests come over, which is zero), but according to what is best for you.

  • Put the couch under the window for better lighting or face it to the TV if you enjoy movie nights.
  • Arrange seating around a coffee table to encourage board games.
  • Make a reading and writing nook with space for your favourite books, laptop or kindle, and some munchies.
  • Design a quiet zen zone with plants, candles, pillows and mat for your daily yoga.
  • Bring in accent furniture, area rugs and pieces from other rooms.
  • Change out artwork.
  • Switch out a lamp or the shade to brighten up a space and/or make your chosen activity easier.
2. PURGE AND ORGANIZE
Given that we must prevail in this situation for a while longer, it may be prudent to be as clutter-free and spacious as possible in order you don’t get crippled by an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia and frustration.
Maybe you don’t need to rearrange, but just edit items that are making your rooms less than spectacular.

By editing, you’re able to reintroduce your favorite pieces, and only those. The rest can go to storage, charity, friends, or back to your mother-in-law, so you’re left with a fresh, well-edited space.

By the way since you are in those closets and cupboards, what better time to organize them, than during a pandemic?

But be careful about that Japanese decluttering thing where you hold each thing you own and throw it out if it doesn’t give you joy. This doesn’t mean your vegetables and electric bill.

This happened way too recently.

Suggestion – every few days, try your jeans on just to make sure they fit.  Pyjamas will have you believing all is well in the kingdom. 

 
3. REPURPOSE. REUSE. RETHINK.
Put empty frames to use

Photo projects require a ton of time and energy to complete, which means they sometimes never make it off of your to-do list. Go through the house and add photos to any frames you’re not using or swap out older photos for new ones.
Look through your storage spaces and drawers for posters, record covers, favourite pages of a book, old postcards, or love letters you’ve saved over the years. Frame and hang as a gallery wall or in spots around the house.
 

Textiles can be striking art when hung, as well as filling up an empty wall.

Think about any cloth items you may have picked up in your travels. Perhaps a quilt, an antique kimono, or a blanket you’ve stashed away.

Dressers are one of the most versatile pieces of furniture, providing both display space and storage. Try using one in the entryway for holding mail on top, scarves and hats in drawers below.

Put one in the dining room to use as a buffet, with linens housed in the drawers.

If you are a crafter, paint an old dresser and keep your supplies organized in the drawers.

Paint

We all have those leftover paint cans that are essentially 85% empty, but we keep them just in case.

Why not use some of that paint to refinish a piece of furniture, highlight an alcove, design a wall graphic or make a feature wall?

Dip-dye the legs of a chair, repaint picture frames, the mantel or door for an instant refresh and change.

Floral arrangements

Fresh flower bouquets are difficult to obtain at this time, but we can bring in nature by picking a few leafy branches outside (pussy willows are in season) and display them in a vase. 

Experiment with items in new ways.
Use a stack of books as a side table or a small side chair as a nightstand.Bowls, creamers, cake plates, serving dishes and trays make fabulous organizers for everything from jewelry and makeup brushes to office supplies and mail.Glass bottles, pitchers, and trophy cups can be repurposed as vases or utensil holders.

Use a dining table as your desk.

If you have an old dining table you no longer use, consider swapping it with your desk for more room to spread out.

Be honest about how you use (and how you wished you used) your home. If you hardly ever use your formal dining room but seriously need more space, why not give in and make your dining room the office?

Design your home office with a professional looking corner and backdrop. You could hang up your degrees, organize the books on the shelves, and display small artifacts to create the perfect setting for video calls.

And wear pants.    


Upcycle architectural elements as decorative displays. 

If you have old windows, doors, shutters, or ladders lying around, think about how you might use these creatively around the house. 

Doors can stand in for your headboard, lean against a wall as art, while old ladders be a side table or hold books, pictures, plants or magazines.


 Okay, I’m going to bed now, I’m exhausted from all that shopping.
 

No Where To Go But Everywhere

“…because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars, generally the Western stars.                                                                                                                     –Jack Kerouac, On The Road

It can be dangerous quoting Keroac, one of the most adventurous writers of the Beat Generation and who helped determine the course of what would be known as the youth decade, out of context, but I’m going to do it anyway. 

What he meant by…there was nowhere to go but everywhere“…was checking off your bucket list; to do things you always wanted to do and go places you always wanted to go.

But I want to expand and reinterpret it for this particular pause we are living through, given travel is now de rigueur. Instead of hopping on a plane, train, or in a Hudson Hornet and throwing caution to the wind, we could use our imagination to “go everywhere” – no passport required.

And this is right up my alley.

Specifically, back alleys.
 
Because you see, I am a flâneuse.  
“Flâneuse,” you might well ask – “what is that?”
 
The male form, flâneur,is a French term for a person who ambles, meanders, and sanballousas the streets with no particular destination in mind, noticing little details and life along the way. The flâneur emerged from the imagination of Charles Baudelaire in his 1863 essay, “The Painter of Modern Life”.

 
And now given we are on physical distancing duty, strolling down back alleys is one way to walk mostly in solitude without constantly zigzagging.
 Besides, you probably need to practice physical distancing anyway…from the refrigerator.
 

In my hubris, I thought I had invented flânerie. As far back as I can remember, whenever I visited a new place, I would immediately sling a camera around my neck and perambulate for hours, often every day.
 

Mostly I liked the back streets, the alleys, or laneways – as they are called in Australia – for that is where, through my peripatetic strolling, I can investigate and imagine another life of a place, it’s enigmatic secrets, it’s mysteries.

Back alleys hold a myriad of treasures: stencilling on buildings, sordid cars in disrepair, broken signs with interesting fonts, garbage-pickers, loading docks, cast off furniture, inspirational graffiti, shipping pallets, distressed brick, small flower gardens, electrical conduits, sagging porches, strains of radio music, patterns of low slanting light and deep shadows, peeling paint, battered bicycles, and layers upon layers of dirt and grittiness.

There is a lot of rich history, all the stuff you don’t see on a main street. 

While strolling I look for photo opportunities. Taking pictures continues to train my eye, enlivens curiosity, and gives me a heightened meaning to a place. 

Some of my best learning happens when I meander down a new path, wandering and wondering. I find things I did not expect and have an opportunity to know a place (or thing) in a way that sidewalks don’t afford.  
 

We live in a culture where image is almost everything, and finding something truly authentic is increasingly difficult.

It would be hard, I suppose, to describe the mundane, the oddities, the detritus, as beautiful, but it can be truly fascinating and compelling.

I have two doctrines regarding walking.

Factoid #1: I have this thing about not walking back the same way I came. I would like to explain why, but there really isn’t a valid reason. Given my prescient history, I should have long ago abandoned this premise, replacing it with sanity.

Factoid #2: I don’t walk for more than two hours at a stretch without stopping for a a cappuccino. I obviously now have to review. 

Factoid #3: I am out of toilet paper. 

That was three things. 

I like the rhythm of walking. I like being able to stop when I like, to lean against a building, or a tree, and make notes.
 

Michel de Certeau observes that “writing is one way of making the world our own, and walking is another.”

I walk because I have things on my mind and walking helps me sort them out. Thoughts come in a far clearer form when I am walking.

I also become less crabby. 

And over sensitive? I can feel the word “pea” under 20 mattresses.

I walk because somehow, it’s like reading. I am there, but I’m not really there; I’m privy to lives and times that have nothing to do with me, but I may be able to imagine beyond what I observe. Even alone, there is always companionship.
 

Above all, I walk because it confers — or restores, a feeling of placeness, and allows for stillness and solitude.
 

But remember, if you do decide to venture out, please put on pants before leaving the house. Standards cannot be allowed to drop.

You know who you are.

Shakesperience

There is a rumour among reliable social media sources like Twitter, that Shakespeare wrote King Lear while quarantined during The Great Plague of London. Without toilet paper. 
 But what I want to know is, did King Lear write back? Well, I for one, do not need that kind of pressure. I mean, I finally finished vacuuming all my carpet stairs.  But once I watched a whole season of “The Office” in under 10 hours (I paused once to make more popcorn). So pray telleth, which is more impressive?
 
Take that, Will Shakespeare.
 

Whilst in this ‘pandemic pause’, which I admit is a tad better than being under house arrest for dueling, we may have felt pressure to be productive: cataloging historic light fixtures, master acrylic paint pouring, writing King Lear 2, or putting socks in pairs.

Our culture has woven a deep seam into our brain telling us we are only valuable when we are on the hamster wheel of producing. We proudly wear this busyness badge of merit and parade it to anyone who will listen – or read on Facebook.

Almost without notice, we are losing ourselves, losing our ability to know who we are and what is important to us.

Succumbing to, or pervasive on, social media, we should be aware that there is a stark difference between connecting, which entails a two-way exchange, and showing off. (I also warn you against succumbing to culinary-inspired Instagram feeds for fear of extending your health risk beyond Covid-19.)Deciding not to perform for other people requires vulnerability, to be honest about who we are, realizing that people around us won’t ever fully get us but that others – separated across time and space – just might. We now have the opportunity to reflect on our habits and past behaviors. 

It is becoming clearer and clearer, that if there ever was a time to sit still, it is now.
 Pared down, there really are only a few things the body needs on any given day — hygiene, nutrients, a little light exercise, and Netflix.  Now may be a good time to make a “Not To Do” list, to make inactivity your new hobby. But only after you clean out the limp radishes, moldy carrot sticks and the bag of forgotten mushrooms from the bottom of the crisper drawer.Now may be the time when we consider if we really need so much air travel, Caribbean vacations, or more clothes.Now may be the time to remove the unneeded and non-essential cargo from our lives – except ice cream.   

There are definite and inherent gifts in this enforced confinement to be acknowledged.

Freedom

When we own less, we have more freedom in our spaces and thus more freedom in our life. When we declutter our homes from unnecessary or too many possessions, we can go from constricting and stressful, to calmer and more peaceful.

We need an essential consciousness about what we want, versus what we need. A haircut, presumably. 
 

Financial stability

As we own fewer possessions, it costs less to maintain our things. Even more importantly, we may begin to buy less going forward. 

Flexibility The world and our lives are going to change. That we know for sure.

If we slough off the extraneous now, we will become more flexible for the future—whether we need to move, find a new job, or make changes in the way we live.

Benefiting others It is also becoming very clear which are essential services, and which are non-essential services. And we need to fundamentally rethink our delivery models. Embracing minimalism in a crisis helps us provide or redirect goods to those who really need it.
 
Security Possessions, except a roof over our head, never provides the security we desire. That’s why people start hoarding more and more and more. They believe the added items will help them feel safe, but they seldom do. We need to, instead, turn to friends and family and faith, or our goldfish who’s keeping us company, and realize the true things: our talents, our abilities, our work ethic. When we rely on our compass—who we are and the direction we desire, we will find more lasting security.
 
  Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.                    Just keep going. No feeling is final.   –Rainer Maria Rilke      

But one of the things we must avoid at all costs, is to lapse into thinking that everything was fine before this disaster struck, and that all we need is prudent patience for everything to return “back to normal”.

Flannel pajamas can do that to you.
Haruki Murakami writes in Kafka on the Shore, “When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what the storm is all about.” Clinging to the past is like holding ice cubes in your hand: once they melt, they’re gone. We don’t have a ‘normal’ anymore. We will be forced to formulate a new one.  But what is more important is that we need to understand that life before the pandemic was already a catastrophe of desperation and exclusion, illuminating economic inequality, racism, patriarchy.

My hope is that the new era will bring a calibration between human and planet and animals, to realize our absolute inseparable connectedness with all of life. I hope it’s obvious now that our future depends on it. Are we going to be able to engage the laws of  “whole-ism” and actually live it? We are about to find out whether humans descend, or transcend.
 

So take a break, sit quietly, stare out the window. 

Each of us can find a half hour a day to waste, away from the wired world.

Know that by doing nothing, we may actually be at our most productive and creative self. It might feel weird and uncomfortable at first, but boredom can lead to brilliance. Inactivity is an interest that can be pursued, at any age, at any time. 
 


“Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day.”

—Macbeth in Macbeth

Staying Home


Maybe it’s Day 4 or 14 or maybe even 24, but i certainly hope I’m interrupting something.
 
Rita: “What did you do today?”
Phil Conners: “Oh, same old, same old.”

There’s a scene inthe movie Groundhog Day where PhiI (Bill Murray) asks, “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same and nothing you did mattered?”

Well, that about sums it up for me.

Each day having the same effect as slamming a revolving door.
So I started creating challenges for myself surrounding my daily wardrobe while wondering if there is nightlife in Katmandu. 

“How many orange things can I wear at once?”
“Can I do four consecutive days of African prints?”
“Does putting on earrings count as being dressed?”
 

My brain on limited bandwidth, there are some days where I feel so lazy that sitting upright in a chair seems like too much.
 

Then I considered my in-house situation, now that the neighbourhood is only available online.

I now call the back of the house, the “café”, and the dining table is the “restaurant” – although the kitchen is short-staffed and underpaid. The food isn’t that great either. (I have no clue how this place is still in business.)

The living room is called the “RepsolSport Centre”, with a worn brown yoga mat as its centrepiece, and a “reach for the remote” exercise routine.

I have a “spa” – the bathroom, and the second bedroom “library” is being rezoned to make way for a high-rise of books.

And I sure hope the weather is good tomorrow for my trip to Puerto Backyardia, because the kiddie pool is blown up and I found a bag of sand in the garage.
 

Home isolation has its ups and downs.

One day you’re on a high cleaning baseboards with a Q-tip, and the next day you are drinking vodka straight, watching two robins out the window. 
Yup, right outside my window. Two robins, madly in love. Every spring they return with a lot of commotion, then settle down to nest building and chick raising. RIght now it’s primo wooing time, and it’s really loud.

Get a room, you birds.
I heard a guru say that in this time of Coronavirus, we should focus on inner peace and finish things we start.

So I looked through my house to find things I’d started and hadn’t finished.

I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bag of Doritos, a pack of Mars Bars, a cylinder of potato chips, a bag of Oreos, a quart of chocolate mint ice cream, and a package of red liquorice.I only tell you this in the hopes of impressing you.

So right now, we’re stuck with ourselves for a while. And you don’t want to start a lovers’ quarrel if you’re the only person there.
For any couples that are sequestered together, well, good luck. If you don’t throttle each other first, there might be a baby boom in the coming year. Or not.

 
Nevertheless, humans will never shed their desire to connect and commune.

Love will keep us together, even when we’re finally allowed to go outside again.
  

I’m so excited…it’s time to take out the garbage. What to wear, what to wear.

Is This Where the Couch Goes?

Our world has virtually changed overnight.

We have gone from consuming to containing. Us, our loved ones, our neighbours – voyeurs contained in our homes, able to watch, but unable to fully participate. We are an enormous collective experience with 8 billion other solitudes.
 
We have been forced to experiment with stopping.

We have found that we have more time on our hands than we know what to do with – and clutching a bottle of Merlot. 

As one who loves my home, I admit that this new found time is quite delicious – as well as the Merlot.
 

In the last couple of weeks, some of us have decided that the Christmas lights have been up so long, we might as well leave them up.

That we understand the concept of cleaning and cooking, but not how it applies to us.

And that there is no need to change out of that green hoodie for at least another two weeks. 

But there are some of us who haven’t quite set things up ideally at home, hung the art stashed under the bed, or finished thinning out our book collection.

With this new found time on our hands, we look around our home, and mull over some existential questions:

Why in my brief existence on this planet, does that closet have to be mine?

Just because it fits, does it mean it actually fits?

Is my living room having an identity crisis?

Would that chair be more attractive in extremely low light?

Sooner or later, it’s just going be too much.