52 Ain't So Bad

Today’s my birthday. It slipped in quietly in the wee hours of the morning (probably about the time I fell asleep, then woke up thirty minutes later because I had to pee) and I am fairly confident it will slide out in much the same way (hopefully with a belly full of cake). Even though I haven’t been blogging during this whack-a-doo pandemic, I have certainly had plenty going on in my head about friendships, isolation, life, love and “health” (more about that in a minute).

Aging gracefully. Like, whoever came up with this little ditty was obviously young because let me tell you, there isn’t much grace in what Mother Nature and time start to do to your body as you age (Chin hairs? Really? Thank GOD for good tweezers!). You know those stupid memes that say, “I feel like my body’s check-engine lights are all on but it’ll probably be fine” ? Yeah, there’s a boatload of truth in that! When I contemplate my own aging, I often think of my mother. Y’all, she would not have appreciated the things time will do to you…the wrinkles, crow’s feet, laugh lines, general aches and pains that show up from the most innocuous activities, like, say turning your neck wrong or pulling weeds. She would have fought that shit tooth and nail, all the while complaining to whomever would listen. Still…I miss her. I’m sad that she didn’t have the privilege of growing older and would have happily (mostly) listened to her complaining just to have her here. It is that longing that keeps me sharp, makes me count my blessings, of which I have many, and reminds me these funky little gifts from Mother Nature ain’t so bad.

In my other life, my nonwriter life, I am a teacher. When the pandemic hit, our entire profession turned upside down, just like so many others around the world. We had to reinvent the way we “did” education and there wasn’t a moment to catch our breath from the beginning to right now. I went to work as “normal” one day, and the next we had “stay at home orders”. From that moment, it has been not-so-organized chaos. And at first, we (educators, administrators, and staff) were all praised, loved even, for the thankless job we’d been doing all along only now everyone at home got a crash course into our world. But it didn’t take long for those at home to tire of that. We then became “lazy” and parents posted with regularity that they should be the ones earning our paycheck because they were forced to do our jobs. No matter the danger, many wanted their kids back in school. We wanted the kids back in school, too, but not if it meant risking our heath, or the health of our families. We didn’t know if, or how easily students could bring the virus to school, spread it unknowingly, and play Russian Roulette with everyone’s lives. I mention this only in regards to how deeply the pandemic has driven me into reflection.

At one point, when our District decided it was time for teachers to return to the building before we had a vaccine, I remember sitting in a Zoom meeting with my bosses telling them how much I loved my job but how terrified I was that it was literally going to be the death of me or someone I loved and ended up exposing to the virus because of my job. I asked, “How many of us have to die before everyone takes this seriously?” I am fortunate to work for some wonderful people, who have gone to great lengths to ensure the safety of everyone in the building with regards to Covid. That being said, staring into the face of your own mortality is a sobering position to be in. Which brings me back to life. My birthday. This moment in time that feels different from any other I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve spent the better part of two years reimagining my “home space”, which I often refer to as “Safe Harbour”. Much of the immediate environment I’m surrounded by has evolved (with a lot of help for ideas from Pinterest, much to my husband’s constant irritation). I have made changes that encourage my physical health, putting in a little “training room” with a meditation space and ditching what was once a dining room we never used. I have ruthlessly, doggedly purged any clutter that was randomly taking up space and that included the mental “junk” I’d been holding on to long after its expiration date. Finally, I have been finding ways to support my own mental health by focusing on the many, many things I have to be grateful for, meditating on them, listing them one small piece at a time in my mind until I feel less panicked. I’m not gonna to lie…there have been some pretty dark times in the last 18 months that were take-my-breath-away scary. I turn on the news less and less because it feels as if the world has gone crazy and I’m trapped with not a damn thing I can do about it. When it is close to overwhelming, I turn on my Spotify playlists, select something that makes me happy, get my ass on the elliptical and sweat until the axis of my world shifts back to an alignment I can live with. I lift my little weights, doing sets until my muscles burn and remind myself this ol’ bag of bones is still alive and we’re OK. Whatever happens, it’s going to be OK. And up to this point, I’ve had a pretty great “ride”.

Happy birthday to me.

​And many blessings to all of you!
Love,
A.