not-quite Journaling, 2
12/21/2020: With
the first day of winter comes the return of the light. This might be my favorite bit about the Winter Solstice. I love knowing
that even while the ground is frozen and the air is cold, sunlight is
stretching strong arms towards warmth… I wish you a healthy, safe, and happy
Winter Solstice, everyone. In darkness, Light!
12/22/2020: Everyone is missing so much these days: getting together
with family, being able to go to school or work in person, being able to safely
walk around other people unmasked, being able to go to Times Square on the 31st
(for those in NYC). The pandemic often makes me miss those things, too.
But today what I’m really missing is spending a handful of hours browsing
through old books. What’s the seemingly small pleasure you miss most during
this time of isolation?
12/24/2020: The coquettish expression on the face of our elf on the
shelf makes me wonder what sorts of ‘naughty or nice’ stories she might take
back to the North Pole. What do you think?
rise
and be merry—
the
Sun’s born of your belly;
in
joy, Mary danced!
12/25/2020: One of my first philosophy of religion debates exploded
around the story of Mary. I was given the role of Mary in a play and was
promptly fired by a young priest because of “exuberancia excesiva/excessive
exuberance”. I remember thinking, ‘All those S’s make him sound like a snake in
a collar’, which made me laugh, which made him really mad… and all went downhill
from there. I just thought that any being who had just learned that they would
birth the son of the god they worshiped would burst with joy. But like an older
(and considerably more pissed off) priest mansplained to me then, “Mary
would’ve never acted like that. She knew her place. And you need to learn
yours.” Yes, there was more laughter. Still, if you ask me, he was full of it.
So, for anyone who celebrates the birth day of the Christ Child—and I’m all for
celebrating anything that inspires people to be more decent to each
other—rejoice and be merry with Mary. Let the excessive exuberance spread…
Burst
into constellations
of
dance.
12/26/2020: After having to take a break that ended up being a lot
longer than I expected (or wanted), I’m exercising again💪🏾💃🏾—mostly running on my trampoline and dancing Perico Ripiao
and Bachata. I wish I could say that my current speed and grace *cough* bring
to mind lovely “constellations of dance”. But the reality is more like a wild (and
rather slow) meteor drizzle. But I’m not complaining (too much): I’m
enjoying myself, my flesh and bones will grow stronger (s l o w l y),
and soon… constellations! What are you up to these days?
skeletal
branches
weave
a shroud made of winter,
broken
by berries
12/27/2020: In winter, forests seem to be populated by the living skeletons
of trees. That thought made me think of graveyards, which made me think of
shrouds, which was about to make me sad…until I saw the berries, which made me
smile. Nature is just so good at reminding us that even in the heart of winter,
there will always be something warm quietly whispering of spring (and better
things).
12/29/2020:
When asked “What do you believe will be
most salient small detail of your 2020?” almost everyone participating in the
discussion responded “face masks”. Personally, I think face masks are a
ginormous detail of 2020, so when it was my turn to answer the question, what
kept coming to mind was the rage displayed by certain people towards social distancing
mandates and towards those who follow them carefully (something one is rather
serious about doing when one lives with a small collection of chronic
illnesses). This poem was born out that discussion and a handful of
not-so-pleasant elevator incidents. So, what about you, “What do you believe
will be most salient small detail of your 2020?”
In
troubling times,
poetry
can soothe me.
You?
12/30/2020:
I shared this magnetic poem sometime
back. Those of you who read it here might remember that the “troubling times”
bit was borrowed from Poems to Live By in Troubling Times, an anthology
edited by Joan Murray; also, that this is a rather timely read. Most of the
poems are dark, even “disturbing and not soothing at all” (according to some
interpretations). In my opinion, the poems in this collection nudge the
reader to explore difficult topics. And I believe that sometimes being able to
dissect difficult issues in ink prepares us for living them in the flesh. And
to me, that’s a soothing thought. The whole thing reminds me that there are
people out there who have felt—and probably lived—the same things I feel. They
survived it (and many times turned those feelings into good art). I find
that very comforting, don’t you?
12/31/2020: The snow in the photos that follow has already been washed away
by wintry rains. Still, I wanted to end 2020 with memories of that snowy walk, since
it was one of my favorite bits of the year. And I’ve always thought that the
best way to move forward is to let go of the bad (lessons in hand) embrace
the good, and use the experiences to grow… better.
Am I alone in wondering why they are so positive about not
playing with balls? 🤔
May 2021 be good (or, at least, considerably less horribly
interesting than 2020 was) to us all.
Have a healthy, safe, and
very happy New Year.
