Friday, November 8, 2024

The patient died

 A friend shared this a few days before the election:

HOLDING VIGIL

 My cousin asks if I can describe this moment,

the heaviness of it, like sitting outside

the operating room while someone you love

is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs

eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine

which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise,

waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out

in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down

to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels

as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about

is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat

asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are.

I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity,

the fact that we are all waiting in the same

hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support,

and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up?

Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil,

as families do, and bringing each other coffee

from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it

while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral,

which is also what happens at times like these,

and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment,

heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand,

in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep

of human history, a soap bubble, because empires

are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations

die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens

all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization,

your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator,

and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about

when she wakes at three in the morning,

cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing,

it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day

and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food,

cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies,

and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls

and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer,

the icebergs for the love of God—every single

blessed being on the face of this earth

is holding its breath in this moment,

and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin,

then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it

we all just have to live through it,

holding each other’s hands.

 

—from Poets Respond.   Rattle Magazine Alison Luterman


Friday, October 11, 2024

Trying to understand

Every election year Sweet Hubby and I re-watch "The West Wing".  Last night we were watching an episode in the final season, which is about the campaign for a new President.  Both the Democratic and Republican candidates were men of intelligence and integrity.  When the Rep. lost the race, his staff urged him to contest the vote, but he refused, even though he had possible cause (the sudden death of the Dem. VP candidate). 

Watching this, I was suddenly overcome by an anguish which has been simmering below the surface of my soul since 2015, when it felt to me that half the country had gone insane and embraced a vile, lying, ignorant, narcissistic, mean-spirited bully as their hero and President.  Sometimes this anguish boils over, as it did last night.  "How is this possible?  How is this possible?  How is this possible?" I sobbed.  "I don't understand."

When I went to the back of the house to compose my mind, I found myself thinking of a minor incident from earlier that day.  During a workout class, I had mentioned to the instructor that my thigh muscles were cramping during one exercise.  She said "That's because they're working.  You're just not used to exercise."

I instantly felt insulted and defensive.  How dare she?  I workout 5-7 times every week.  I'm extremely fit for someone my age.  She's young, she doesn't understand that muscle cramps are a fact of elder life.  I didn't say any of that, of course, because that first reaction was followed almost at once by  some clearer thinking.  I knew she meant no harm, was responding to my comment in the way she knows to.  That first reaction was purely visceral; then my brain kicked in and smoothed my ruffled feathers with perspective and understanding.

I realized that every one of us is subject to those instant visceral reactions of fear and anger.  And I thought: maybe some people simply get stuck in those reactions, aren't able to move past them by examining them, thinking more critically, more wisely and clearly.

And so I began to have some understanding of how it is that a massive portion of the population can get excited about shallow, inflammatory  rhetoric full of dog whistles and triggers and simple answers.  That understanding  really helped me.  I could see that the main source of my anguish isn't because of how these Trump fanatics are behaving (however egregious that might be).  It's because of how hard it is for me to understand their behavior.  Once I can understand something, I can deal with it.  It's the not understanding that makes me feel so loony.

Monday, October 7, 2024

Adoring the Rainbow

Randy Rainbow is so amazingly talented.  Also clever, funny, insouciant, sarcastic, witty, charming, snarky, sly ,iconoclastic, and cute as a sack of gay kittens.  He is also deeply committed to liberal politics.

Every parody song he creates is an attempt to wake up the rest of us.  He shines a spotlight on what has gone so terribly wrong in politics since the rise of Trump and MAGA.  He points out the hypocrisy, the cruelty, the ignorance, the bullying behaviors, the noise and anger, the lying lying lying of the far right wing of the Republican party.  And he does it in the most delicious, fun, and flippant way possible, without scolding, without dark drama and dire predictions.  He is really trying to get through to us all, while making sure we still love him and want to be in his company.  Amazing.

If you haven't seen his latest, Blank Slate, I highly recommend you watch it.  The tune is Taylor Swift's (bouncy and memorable); the lyrics are pure Rainbow.   (Be warned that Randy does have a sponsor now, so there is an endorsement in the middle of the video, but it doesn't interrupt the song). 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CzYt-WuCCA 

Sunday, September 8, 2024

Closing up

The last few months of my dad's life, after he had been moved into a very nice senior living place where someone from the family visited almost every day, he settled into watching, over and over, the same old Universal Studio black and white horror films.  King Kong.  Frankenstein. The Bride of Frankenstein.  The Mummy.  Dracula.  He had memorized these films long before I was even born, and they never ceased to delight him.  

Quite recently, I became aware of a feeling, or maybe an insight, which allowed me to understand why he loved to disappear into these movies.  I think I understand now what it will be to want to withdraw from the world, a world that I don't feel I quite belong to any more; a world that is no longer mine.  I can foresee wanting to be quiet, to be surrounded by things that comfort me with their familiarity.  Things that I understand.  I can feel what it might be like to sort of shrug and let the world take care of itself.  I can tell that in the future there could well be a time when I will want just to close up, much more slowly than a sea anemone, but gradually and steadily.  I will want to be surrounded by what I know and am comfortable with. 

I'm certainly not ready for that yet.  I am always on the prowl for new experiences: new restaurants and foods, new music, new theater, new people, new places to explore.  I still have plays to write.  I still have friends I love, and my family, and my darling kitties and Sweet Hubby.  I'm still willing to make the effort to travel, to have get togethers, to exercise, to write birthday and holiday cards, to dance my ass off, to do something new.  But someday...

Oh well.  I will let the world take care of itself.  I guess whatever happens will happen naturally, so why fight it?  

Friday, August 23, 2024

I fall down

This morning I was coming down the stairs from the living room to the front door, a case of seven treads I've gone up and down several times a day for fourteen years.  And on the second to last tread, for some reason, I stepped into midair and fell right down onto the tile floor, sort of on my side, with my head leaning on the door.

In the movies and on TV, falls like this are usually shown in slow motion, and one can see the many ways the falling person might save herself.  Not so in real life.  This happened so fast.  

Sweet Hubby was right there, and I think this was terrifying for him, because for an instant he didn't know if this fall would be fatal.  I knew in an instant that it wasn't, and after a quick self-assessment, I laughed and assured him over and over that I was all right.  It took some time but eventually we were both smiling and laughing, with me making a joke about how I don't want SH to come up with some plan to assure that this never happens again, and SH joking back that the plan already exists, as he pointed to the handrails.  

Now, hours later, I have a slightly abraded bruise on my left forearm and absolutely no other damage.  I'm glad I didn't hit my head on the floor, and I'm glad I exercise as often as I do, because my bones are still strong.  So it all turned out just fine, and now it's just another story.

Someday something is going to happen.  It might be as fast as today's fall, and it might be slow and take a long time.  Personally, I'd prefer slow and long.  However unpleasant it might get at the end, I do like the idea of being able to say my good-byes.  I won't know until I get there, of course, how it's going to go.  But someday something is going to happen.  I'm just glad that today wasn't the day and this was not the thing. 

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Weight

 I have thought about my weight every single day since I was about 10 years old, usually many times a day.  I've thought about it when I was thin.  I've thought about it when I was heavy.  I thought about it when I was in Hollywood pursuing an acting career.  I thought about it when I was office manager for a Beverly Hills real estate office. I thought about it when I moved to Seattle as single woman and was looking for love.  I think about it now that I am married to a man who acts as though I'm beautiful no matter how I look.

I think about it and fret about it and make private promises about it.  But I don't ever actually go on a diet.

Here's the thing about diets.  Going on a diet means choosing something uncomfortable (kale) over something comfortable and comforting (chocolate).  And making that choice every day, supposedly for the rest of one's life.  No wonder it's so hard.

The times I've been thin have been either because I was very active (3 hours of contra dancing 3 times a week, for example), or sick (pneumonia, or a 2 week sore throat, or when my thyroid when into hyper-drive).  So I've just never gotten into the habit or discipline of dieting.  And now, even though I'm still fairly active, I don't do that rigorous dancing, don't have the metabolism of youth, and am hardly ever sick and never for long.

A few nights ago, I lay on the living room floor for a while listening to music.  During that peaceful time, I put my hands on my belly and let them rest there, and for just a moment I had a glimpse of what it might feel like to leave myself alone; to accept that I eat what I eat; I look like what I look like; people see me how they see me.  I saw what it might be like not to think about my weight but just to live unselfconsciously.

It was very nice.  For that moment.

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Unearned blessings

There are many blessings in my life for which I can take no credit.  To have been born at all, for example, is downright miraculous, given the odds.  To have been born with a healthy body and good mind, into a family where I was loved and educated, in a country which offers so many possible paths, in a time of modern medicine, dentistry, and indoor plumbing is good fortune not shared by everybody, in fact not shared by many.  I did nothing to deserve such luck, any more than a Saudi or Iranian woman deserves the restrictions and oppression she is born into.

A friend was recently talking to me about the unearned blessings which fill his life, especially the good friends he has gathered around him.  "But you know, " I said, "an awful lot of how good your life is is a result of who you are, how you've lived, the choices you've made."  That got me thinking about my own life, and that maybe I actually can take credit for some of what seems simply like astounding and random good fortune.

I, too, have so many, many good friends, people I cherish.  They bless me by choosing to be my friends.  But I work at friendships.  I send birthday greetings every year - yes, actual cards in the actual mail with actual stamps.  I get together regularly with local friends for walking, movies, meals, conversation, games.  I stay in contact with more distant friends and visit them when I'm able.

I have two callings which thrill me: acting and writing.  And I've had enough successes in both to call myself a professional (although never enough to support me).  The paths to those successes have been incredibly bumpy and long.  Certainly there is an element of luck in having any success at all as any kind of artist. Not every actor with talent, skill, and passion gets to see her face onscreen.  Not every playwright with talent, skill, and passion gets to see her plays performed and published.  But I've worked at these, too, living on almost nothing for decades in order to stay true to what I wanted to do with my life, defying my parents' advice to get a full time job.

Meeting Sweet Hubby, the perfect man for me, is probably the biggest miracle in my life, especially coming as it did so late (I was 54).  Only magic, only angels could have brought us together.  But it is all the work I did on myself - years of transformational seminars and therapy, plus a lifelong habit of reading voraciously - that made me someone who could catch SH's eye, made me interesting and desirable to him.  I can also take credit for the fact that no matter how many romantic relationships didn't work out for me (A LOT), and no matter how many heartaches I had to recover from (ditto), and how much self-doubt I had (ditto x5), I never gave up on wanting to be happily coupled, never closed my heart or became cynical and bitter.

I guess it is so in all our lives, that a lot happens to us, both good and bad, which we can't possibly have earned and don't deserve per se.  And there is also a lot that happens, good and bad, because of how we live our lives, how we treat others, what choices we make.  It does seem to me that good fortune and bad aren't really evenly distributed.  I have no way of understanding how that works.  I'm just as grateful as heck for how much good has come my way.  Whether I deserve it or not.