Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Owning something or loving someone.
I just read a devastating article on the rise in suicides and multiple murders in the US since the onset of the foreclosure crisis. Not that I hadn’t noticed an increase in stories of this nature over the last couple of months, but adjusting the lens for this view has the necessary consequence of magnification. That, plus the election in the US, and it’s hard not to let the fear creep in, to ask for promises that it’s all going to be okay. That it won’t get worse for people than this.
An emotional time in the United States what with tremendous loss juxtaposed against potential victory – even if it is in the form of just another politician. If that isn’t a sign of psychological desperation, I don’t know what is; steeped in the myth of one great leader hands are clasped beseeching someone to pull a miracle out of the muck. And if this turns the tide away from conservative economics for a couple of decades then that is some water-to-wine I am willing to drink.
As much as I hate to admit it, I am infected with the same false hope as my friends to the South seem to be. All the radicals I know going to the ballot box for Obama and I find myself jealous, as if casting a vote in any system really matters in any fundamental way. But it’s also true that if I allow it to rise in me, there is a real fear lurking down there at the base of my spine. Not just for the financial losses of my family, the possibility that their retirement savings are really gone for good, but for the loss of the potential future I had imagined. That climate change and the economic crisis, fueling social disintegration are going to change even the face of nice, placid Canada – a nation not prone to suddenness or extremes.
On the other hand I know that none of it is as real as the fact we have relationships that sustain us, families which draw together, communities of practice to trade work between – and if we’re smart about it the only losses will be material. That is, things that don’t matter all that much in the context of our closeness to creation. And I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that the fear is as much of an illusion as the system itself, without which no one could continue to profit. Which just makes the above story that much more bleak. That fear which drives people to desperate measures being so unnecesary if we could devalue material “need” just a little bit.
Imagine if rather than deciding whether to just kill oneself or to do the whole family in, the questions were simplified as “Rent rather than own?” or “One car instead of two?” Which is essentially what people are faced with in a United States that is not starving. But trapped in an insanity that says owning something is more important than loving someone, saving face is more important than saving one’s soul, the only solutions are as extreme as our poverty of spirit.
There are a hundred ways to make this crisis better, and while I still hold out hope for a Democratic President to turn the economic tide towards instead of against humanity, I also know that 99 of the hundred have nothing to do with money and everything to do with each other. Want security? Plant a garden and treat your partner with kindness and love. Form community associations to resist foreclosures rather than holing up as individuals. Get to know your damned neighbours!
And don’t forget that people the world over survive the worst things without the obvious means to do so. People survive all sorts of things. They do. They really do. And we will too.
Communicate me and you.
First snow on the north shore mountains this morning and when my hand searched for the cel phone to text you my excitement I realized I had left it at home. Plugged into the charger where I left it last night. I am now likely without it until tomorrow evening which suits me fine except that I find myself attached to being able to communicate with my partner, silly thoughts and moments that carry us to one other and alleviate the workaday. I suppose it’s no coincidence that as we have driven ourselves further apart from each other, racing busy critters going from place to place, so the technology that allows us to remain “at home” with our loved ones has developed in tandem.
I have often thought about this on the road, how the laptop and the cel phone make a much easier existence than if I had neither. As important as the kitchenette in my Ottawa suite is the wireless connection that allows me to chat with my friends, my mother, my partner on the nights when I am blockaded in my room by frozen sidewalks and blowing snow. It makes travel less lonely, but it also creates a split in attention to the present because while you are away, not at home, in another physical location – you remain (at least) in mind measure rooted with the people who define home for you.
But so then do the people who miss you exist simultaneously in two places. That home place, and that in-between mediated by wire and fibre – a physical presence also a disembodied thought, a voice not quite there but coming through as a mirage. Warbling and distant it lacks in the same way a photograph can not capture truth but only essence. Sometimes exaggerated, sometimes pale. But something nonetheless to fuel the nights when the embrace is absent, the kiss unreachable, the glance a memory of light only. Not to be cheapened by modernity we knit our connections over distance, we create new mediums to do so. We only move fast enough to just keep up.
Monday mornings.
I had an incredibly stupid time getting out of my house this morning, basically because I couldn’t find anything to wear that fit properly, which set me up for a bad mood day… though I think I’m finally almost out of my funk which means it’s time to write something here after a four-day absence (union meetings late last week being the cause).
Fair enough that I’m not supposed to complain because my clothes are all 2 or 3 sizes too big – Brian reminded me of that this morning when I was frustratedly belting a skirt that ended up looking like a drawstring sack at the top when I was finished – but still, at 6 am I want dressing to be an effortless process. I want my cute clothes to continue being cute on me.
And really, it’s not a negative – but I’m just in the middle of this whole thing about identity, body image, disordered eating, and a daily conversation with the mirror that gets more critical with every bit of weight I lose. Suddenly all the monster wants is stronger, faster, thinner, sexier – when a month ago I was just happy with “in better shape”. It’s remarkable what shedding excess pounds reveals, besides more pronounced collarbones, isn’t it? Not that I haven’t wrestled with these feelings in the past, the sense of becoming a different person – or at least having an entirely different relationship to my body can be a tad unsettling at times. Particularly on days when I haven’t gotten enough sleep and/or don’t feel like going to work.
But despite all of that, I made it into the office, then to the gym late this morning to lift weights and admire the fact that my arms look almost cut when I’m in the throes of lat pull-downs; my reverse abdominal crunches are just that much easier to complete three sets of. Really, I’m in increasingly good shape and I know it shouldn’t matter that there are people who swim eight times as fast as me or have nicer shoulders. There’s just a lot of stuff getting worked out besides my heart and lungs, and I suppose this integral to re-invention. How do you know who to become if you never evaluate who you are?
There are worse problems to have, I know. This just happened to be mine on a Monday morning. I’m hoping the rest of the week picks up from here.
I know I'm not her mother but I am a human being.
Well. I’m just glad this one is done with and things stayed essentially the same. It doesn’t make me happy, but it doesn’t make me wretched either to know that most Canadians voted for the center or didn’t vote at all (80% if you total up the non-Tory voters and the non-voters). Obviously mixed in with the disillusioned are the majority who reject American style politics, wars and business-for-the-big-boys that Harper represents. And that’s something I hope will continue to grow in the next couple of years.
I’m feeling a little preoccupied this morning with relationship issues – so much so that my morning free write was nothing but a rehash of a discussion I had with Brian last night. The issues are not ours, per se, but continue to stem from his ex’s sometimes unreasonable demands on the schedule (wanting to leave planning until the last minute to be “flexible”) and some pretty snippy comments that have been directed our way lately. She apparently feels we direct scheduling too much, but refuses to participate in planning it – insomuch as we provide a sample calendar for what could work and ask her for input, she says it looks fine, and then later complains that she had no say. Fortunately I am not a party to the scheduling discussions because I’m not sure I could be nearly as diplomatic as Brian is in the situation.
The discussion I am having the most difficulty with is around xmas holidays (during which M’s birthday falls), because the ex’s (unacknowledged) approach is that my needs are not worth taking into consideration. This would include my need to spend time with my family (which includes Brian and M.). For that matter, Brian’s needs aren’t worth her consideration either in the continued refusal to discuss a child-sharing arrangement for the holidays. And the reason I am finding this the most emotionally challenging is because I have the least “moral” right in the situation, and I fear being left out while the original family unit takes priority. Being an outsider is one of my core triggers, so the situation is amplified in my mind even though I logically recognize things will probably work out just fine. To his credit, Brian is doing everything possible to allay my fears, clarify his priorities with me, and work things through with his ex; on that front I am feeling a great deal of trust and security in my relationship.
It’s just that I’m not sure where to go from here. I keep trying to put myself in the ex’s shoes – recognizing that it’s got to be difficult to watch another woman parent your kid, to find compromise with someone you feel rejected by, to accept that two families are going to be harder to co-ordinate than one which requires schedules in advance. I get all of that. But after a year of pretty shitty behaviour on her part (it has been somewhat better since she’s moved, though scheduling continues to be a complication), I’ve just about had it with the continued hostility (not to mention some weird competitive behaviour that seems to be playing out through M). And that’s the feeling I need to step back from. The feeling that compells me to write letters in my mind I wish I could send and be done with. The one that takes us nowhere positive.
I know people who do this blended family thing well and when I got into this relationship with Brian I was naive enough to think it could be that way for us too. I mean, I have the ability to mediate and be concilatory when the situation requires it – I figured I would just bring that to bear and all would be fine. That was before the raging freak-outs that became a regular occurrence last winter. That was before she tracked down mutual friends to tell them how awful Brian had been, and told him that she wanted to meet me privately only in order to set the record straight (not to actually get to know me or anything). And of course it was long before Brian (and by extension, me) were accused of not caring about M., and being unable to look out for her if she spent time with us.
So, you know, I’ve given up on the hope that we will ever be constructive co-parents in this situation, which effectively also diminishes the possibility of her and Brian truly co-parenting. She doesn’t realize this is so, but how could it not be if Brian supports my involvement in decision-making against her wishes? It’s unfortunate though, and really didn’t have to go this way. I am at this point just hoping for a peace that allows me to plan my life and enjoy the times that Brian, M, and I are together. Which seems like a pretty simple request when I type it out like that. Though I suppose I have to find a way to accept it if she continues to deny that as well.
It’s just that I’m having trouble being the bigger person right now. I’m certain about my relationship with Brian which encourages an incredibly fierce possessiveness when it comes to defending him and what we are building together. And I feel like it should be operating the other way, like if I’m certain, shouldn’t I just sit back and let him take her on? It’s not like he and I have some differing idea about the need to schedule or what is going to work best for the three of us. I suppose that no matter how certain I am about this relationship, it is the stuff about myself that leaves me feeling the need to defend and potentially attack back. This is not how I want to live, which means I’m going to have to choose otherwise. That is trust, faith, and love – rather than fear and anger. Right now it feels impossible to move from one space into the other.
Ennui.
Oh gosh, it’s election day. And given my proclivities I feel like I should have an awful lot to say on the matter. But really, I’m just holding my breath until the polls are closed and hoping that the Conservatives don’t gain enough seats to form a majority government. Fortunately that’s looking less plausible today than it was five weeks ago, so I can probably skip some of the polling coverage without having nightmares, but we’ll see how close it looks.
I’m settling in back here at work, for at least a couple of days this week and all of the two following weeks which is just enough time to re-establish my routine before heading east again. No matter how regimented I try to be, I still find that time changes and airplane days get me all screwed up and my writing and working out is less than it should be while on the road. On this last trip I managed to maintain some of it (and get some really great swimming workouts in) but still, I feel out of sorts today as though I have barely done anything in ages. Will rectify that at the gym later this morning.
Insomnia the last few nights has me a bit draggy at the moment, though I slept okay last night. I suppose cold, insomnia and axiety have totalled up to that. Hopefully this week irons some of those wrinkles out so as to inspire me here a little more.
I’ve got lots of stuff in my head at the moment including a piece for Viaduct, and some posts on reading and literature here – but my overall ennui has left me (and you) with this most banal of updates. Just to say I did it.
More soon I’m sure.
Red Cedar 