Holding space, and finding rest

Jul. 19th, 2017 09:10 pm[personal profile] sonia
sonia: Quilted wall-hanging (Default)
I've gotten feedback from several directions lately that the way I hold space for people, having been in hard places myself, is healing. "Life-changing," one person said. "A blessing," someone said today.

It's good to know that standing with people, saying, "Yes, that's hard. I see how hard you're working. No, you didn't deserve that," helps them. Because really, that's all I can do. I'd love to reach in and magically make them feel better, but that's not how this works. Sometimes people have done all the hard work, tried all the different solutions, and it still hurts. "You get to feel how you feel," I tell them.

I wish I could find that for myself. Someone who's been in the hard places, done the hard work, and can hold space for me to be exactly how I am right then. I tried a therapist the other day, and she seemed knowledgeable, skilled, compassionate - and distant. I don't think she's been there. I think she's helping from the outside, and that's not what it feels like I need.

The thing she said that resonated the most was wanting tending and care. Wanting to learn how to rest. I'm not sure what kind of practitioner helps with that. I picked "solace" for my word of the year, and I think this is what I was trying to get at. I forgot all about it for a while, but I'm starting to keep it in mind again.

I've been tired all the time for months. I stopped reading Twitter. I started taking my vitamin D & iron regularly again. I'm going to try not eating any rice (the only grain I eat) for a week. I do get sleep and eat well and exercise regularly. I want to enjoy my days rather than toughing them out.

(Not looking for advice, but your own experiences are welcome if you feel like talking about them.)
sonia: Quilted wall-hanging (Default)
America is Regressing into a Developing Nation for Most People by Lynn Parramore.
In a new book, The Vanishing Middle Class: Prejudice and Power in a Dual Economy, Peter Temin, Professor Emeritus of Economics at MIT, draws a portrait of the new reality in a way that is frighteningly, indelibly clear: America is not one country anymore. It is becoming two, each with vastly different resources, expectations, and fates.


20% of US folks are thriving, if they're in FTE (Finance, Technology, Electronics). 80% are not. We kinda knew that, but it's good to see it laid out clearly. Having a tech job part of the time lets me see both sides.

Bonus link: Finding love that doesn’t hurt: Keeping yourself safe in the aftermath of abuse by Artemisia Solstice. Makes the excellent point that we can find a way out of repeated abusive relationships by committing to self-care. As we treat ourselves well, we will require that others also treat ourselves well.

Bah

Jul. 19th, 2017 10:12 pm[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
Reliable sources report the death of Jordin Kare.

D.O.P.-T.

Jul. 19th, 2017 01:21 pm[personal profile] weofodthignen
weofodthignen: selfportrait with Rune the cat (Default)
I saw the mostly white cat again, so he/she hasn't moved after all. But the main consumer(s) of the catfood on the porch now seems to be one or more tabbies; I'm not sure whether the brown tabby and the silver tabby are the same cat, but one is apparently living under the bush by the front steps. So we may have a barn cat again.
weofodthignen: selfportrait with Rune the cat (Default)
At the library again.

I'm pleased to glimpse that one of the local houses that sold recently has had the line of ratty sheltered parking spaces at the rear replaced with an actual backyard. Lawn and stuff.

(no subject)

Jul. 19th, 2017 03:43 pm[personal profile] elainegrey
elainegrey: Inspired by Grypping/gripping beast styles from Nordic cultures (Default)
Woo hoo! Caffeine, antihistamine, and analgesics! I'll have plenty on hand for tomorrow morning.

Kindness

Jul. 19th, 2017 12:09 pm[personal profile] sweetmusic_27
sweetmusic_27: A biohazard symbol (Default)
Last week I telephoned our San Diego Comicon hotel to make sure my name was on the reservation and that Seanan's was spelled correctly.

Today, after landing and a cab, and an alarming phone call from the mobility scooter rental place asking when I was going to pick it up (it got sorted out and they delivered the scooter promptly) I went up to the desk... and they wouldn't check me in. Because my name wasn't on the godamned reservation. I checked my bag, sat down, and cried. I got maybe four hours of sleep last night and chock-full airplanes are not calming to me.

I got myself together and had a Slim Jim and a granola bar, used a wet wipe on my face and hands, and felt a little better. A lady came up to me. "Excuse me, I'm sorry, but I saw you crying a little while ago. Is everything okay?"

I explained what had happened and that I was mostly just tired, having anticipated a nap upon arrival.

"Do you have something to eat?"

"Yes, I have a bag of snacks, thank you so much." I squeezed her hand.

Little glimmers of hope and caring when you're feeing low are priceless. It will be my privilege to try to pass it on in a convention where so many can get swept by the wayside.
vvalkyri: (Default)
There's so very much to write. I didn't write about Baitcon. I didn't write much about MomYartzeit. I didn't write about New Story Leadership project (final event today at 630 at Archives). Or the various thought provoking plays I've seen at Fringe.

But I woke up this morning with I helped bury someone yesterday in my head.

I've known Sonya Schultz since her son Ben and I dated back in high school. Sophomore and Jr years. It was at their house I first was part of Havdalah. It was with them I first went to Simchas Torah - Ben and I went in all our Sadie Hawkins finery before going on to the dance. In the years that followed, she included me in her huge seders when I wasn't in Cleveland. In recent years other friends have offered invites first, or I've been in Cleveland. It's been a while since I've been to the house. My last sure memory of talking in person was shortly after Ben's now three year old was born. It was some years before that, in that apartment, when she said to me, "Marry one of my sons; I don't care which!" At the house last night, I was reminded by more than one of the family that she would have adopted me in, regardless.

I spent much of the day yesterday with Cathie and later Lauren. They would each occasionally run into Sonya and sometimes also David at Strathmore, or at Costco. I am envious.

It's kinda weird. In a certain way she and I were more regularly in touch the last couple years because she would respond in my facebook here and there. But I had no idea she was ill, because it had been so long since she and I had spoken in person. And tbh, I might not have known anyway -- people commented last night they'd just seen her at shul a week ago.

The funeral was long and full. Cathie and I were some of the few who ended up parking on the street because the parking lot was full. There were some beautiful stories and some heartbreak, and as is always the case for me, I learned more and was sad not to know it earlier. Bits about just how fiercely there she was for her kids, bits about her involvement with the shul, or defying being told "no woman can pass this econ test," or that they'd been on their most recent cruise only in May. Or that they'd planned to remodel the kitchen. I could so visualize that kitchen, the house. It wasn't the house they had when Ben and I dated; I don't remember that one, now.

At the gravesite, there was a traditional handwash station. One washes on leaving a graveyard. She and Ben had been at my grandmother's funeral at Arlington. Memories came flooding back of her coming up to me to give me wet wipes in the absence of the two handled cup. "al natitlat yadayim."

I've only been to a couple gravesites that weren't Jewish funerals*. Even so, there were things that were new to me. More traditional. That we all process together with the coffin but stop 7 times in reluctance. That one should add at least three shovelfulls of earth because 3 makes it not an accident or coincidence. That the first shovelful should be the back of the shovel, because we don't really want to be efficient in saying goodbye. That we shouldn't hand the shovel along to the next but instead put it back into the pile.

I've never before been to a funeral with real shovels adding the earth that had just been dug out, rather than symbolic trowelsful. After a while there was one person who went back and was shoveling more, for real, and Ben's younger brother for a while, and if there had been more than two shovels and I had been more clear whether it was okay or I was too far from the family I wanted to as well, despite the dress and shoes. It was hot, very hot. We said kaddish and we all went to the cars. Last night I learned that J had finished shoveling all the dirt for his grandparents, and would really have preferred to have done so here. And that the small bucket I'd wondered about that his girlfriend troweled from may have been Jerusalem dirt, but the part that was important to her was it also contained a vegan truffle she'd made for Sonya, but which Sonya had suggested bringing on Saturday but then not felt up to eating. This sounds so odd, written, but brought tears to my eyes in person.

I'd planned on going to a couple fringe plays last night, and I'm glad I hadn't preticketed. I spent the afternoon with Lauren, and then was in the right part of town to go over to shiva last night rather than trying to force getting there on Thursday. And the reason why shiva is traditionally in the deceased's house was so very apparent. So many memories in these rooms. A memory of a shiva, even. Sonya's mother.

I need to get moving. There's more to write and there isn't. There's contrasts with my mom's death, and after. Maybe later.


*One was Steve Devoney's dad, a couple months ago, after which everybody retired to the house and there were stories and video. One was a close friend, 8 years ago. The funeral itself had been a mass in latin at which there happened to be a coffin; the gravesite was in English and I think maybe mentioned her name. After everybody left her aunt started wedging flowers in any part of the coffin handles and hinges she could, and a couple of us joined in this until the coffin was covered in flowers, and then after the people came and lowered the coffin we dropped more flowers on top. And they put the concrete or whatever cover on and uncovered the dirt and I commented that in Jewish funerals we add the dirt. To make it final, real. And the four of us still there we each did add a handful. And that's when the aunt cried.

Poor timing, version 2.0

Jul. 19th, 2017 12:17 pm[personal profile] edschweppe
edschweppe: A closeup of my face, taken at Star Island during the All-Star II conference in 2009 (Default)
Once again, the car's A/C is all crapped out. Just in time for a new heat wave ...
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
It turns out you can connect Calibre directly to Project Gutenberg.

Having downloaded a bunch of public domain books, I then went looking for the proper cover art. Interestingly, although I am convinced I owned mid-1970s editions of both Blackman's Burden and Border, Breed nor Birth, I can find no evidence those editions actually existed.

Another interesting thing. This is the list of science fiction books on PG and this is the list of science fiction works by women on PG.

Wednesday looks about to rain

Jul. 19th, 2017 02:07 pm[personal profile] oursin
oursin: Photograph of small impressionistic metal figurine seated reading a book (Reader)

What I read

Melisande Byrd His Lordship Takes a Bride: Regency Menage Romance (2015), very short, did what it says on the tin, pretty low stakes, even the nasty suitor who molests the female protag in a carriage (the Regency version of Not Safe In Taxis) just disappears. The style was not egregiously anachronistic (apart from one or two American spellings) but a bit bland.

Janet Malcolm, Forty-One False Starts: Essays on Artists and Writers (2013) - charity shop find. Some of the essays were of more interest to me than others, but all very well-written.

On the go

Matt Houlbrook, Prince of Tricksters: The Incredible True Story of Netley Lucas, Gentleman Crook (2016). I depose that somebody whose scams got rumbled and who was banged up in various institutions for his crimes is not exactly trickster royalty. He then went allegedly straight and got into journalism, partly writing up the inside stories of the crime world, but these are very much complicated by the author as to their authenticity and did he actually write them. While he was more of a career criminal than the opportunistic upperclass louts in the McLaren book mentioned last week, he did have claims to gentility, but again, so not Raffles The Amateur Cracksman.

I'm currently a bit bogged down in it, which may be a reflection of the author's own experiences in trying to write about somebody who lived by lying, had numerous false identities, etc etc (which are very much foregrounded).

Simon R Green, Moonbreaker (2017) - came out this week, I succumbed.

Also started one of the books for review.

Up next

There's a new Catherine Fox out tomorrow (allegedly)...

(no subject)

Jul. 19th, 2017 07:30 am[personal profile] elainegrey
elainegrey: Inspired by Grypping/gripping beast styles from Nordic cultures (Default)
Odd, how a perfectly reasonable night's sleep can have one more grumpy. I think it's all about antihistamines: in that i had only one left (forgetting to ask Christine when she did a grocery run). Fortunately the loooong commute from the hotel to the office across the highway means i can swing by a grocery and pick up a bottle of pills, plus band aids for where my shoes are rubbing my feet.

The B52's Love Shack is playing as muzak.

I should have brought a few tea bags with me. I thought i could make do with coffee, but i am not a morning coffee drinker. Either that or the drip coffee in the room was vile.

I paid for a month's use of AirDroid pro so i could easily move files to my phone. I have a "Music" folder, and in the "Music" folder i made a "_Keep on Phone_" folder. The music app couldn't find that folder, so i ditched the underscores and created a "000Keep on Phone". That too is not being found. With this last phone i've just had no luck with audio files. It's good that my preference is for audio books.
elainegrey: Inspired by Grypping/gripping beast styles from Nordic cultures (Default)
On my way to Ohio. 8 pm flights seem to be the way to go. Not only is it direct, but there was no line at security, and the plane is maybe half full. Yippee!!

Sunday I did get the rest I needed. My throat healed up, antihistamines made a difference, and all the other aches ... Well they don't seem as significant.

Yesterday & today I saw deer. I think I can identify two does by markings. One has a crooked ear, the other a white mark - a scar I would guess - on her right hip. Each day I have seen a doe& fawn. It seems plausible that they were the Same pair today & yesterday. Oh Monday a young buck came through as well.

I find it curious that I hadn't seen deer in daylight for a long time. Then they seemed to get active again.

They are nibbling at the garden but today's WRATH is reserved for the squirrel. I've been watching my tomato volunteer #2 set nice large fruit- and today I saw a squirrel near the raised bed . At lunch I went out to find half Eaten green tomatoes scattered under the plant.

FlE.

(no subject)

Jul. 18th, 2017 08:27 pm[personal profile] threemeninaboat
threemeninaboat: (Default)
I got asked more than once today about how somebody gets 17 contact lenses stuck in their eye.

I'm betting they were Acuvue Dalies, the crappiest of all the lenses. They fold, shatter, and get lost really easily in there. I stopped wearing them because I couldn't find all the tiny pieces in my eyeball and that's my job.

Hippo, Birdie, Two Ewes

Jul. 18th, 2017 08:38 pm[personal profile] onyxlynx
onyxlynx: Festive pennants in blue & purple with word "Birthday" centered. (Birthday)
 to [personal profile] kinetikatrue !  May you have had a really nifty day!
sartorias: Mei Changs (MC)
Episode 5

This and the next episode was the turning point for me: up until now I enjoyed the episodes, but didn’t feel much engaged. I know it’s different for different people, just as in anything else: one friend was hooked from the first episode at the sight of MC gliding in that flat boat as he played that compelling minor key melody on the flute. Another didn’t get hooked until a certain point in the story a few eps on, and then all of a sudden got hooked so hard that they had to mainline the entire thing until the end. And then promptly rewatch it all.

For me, it was the conviction that I got through this and the next episode, which I think of as a pair, that not only was Mei Changsu as brilliant as promised, but I was going to see proved, bit by bit. That intrigued me. And that intrigue began deepening slowly, until the emotional layers of friendship, loyalty, brotherhood, hidden and obvious—all the conflicting emotional currents—gripped me.
Read more... )
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
Things that do not inspire Fig to go into hunting mode:

A baby rabbit

Things that do inspire Fig to go into hunting mode:

A robin
A 50 kilogram dog

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