It is possible, when necessary, to get used to anything.Haven Kimmel, “She Got Up Off the Couch.”
It’s weird living in a trailer, and totally liberating. If I wanted to live like a slob and not wash dishes, I could. I wouldn’t have to worry about how that choice would set a precedent for a teenager, and make them think they could slack. YES, this is the way I lived with teenagers, mine or his. I always thought about the choice to be a slob for a night, and what that would say to them. Did I just end up making them think that perfection was what I expected? Or was I an actual role model? I’ll never know.
Tonight a big windstorm is running through the town I’m parked in. It makes the trailer seem like an earthquake is happening. The body of the trailer itself is solid and stable, but the wind is shaking this thing like I’m about to meet Dorothy in Oz.
Yaak, Montana at the Yaak School making ice cream the “real” way. Look at my dogged expression. It’s like 1980 or 1981, and I’m 10 or 11. I was going into a mindful place to deal with how fricken stressful making crank ice cream is. Tera is posing with her hand on the crank. She and Tina are badass, so I have no doubt they really worked. Tina is putting her weight in and making an effort holding the thing down. I’m sure I worked, too. But my mom is taking pictures, and she brought the damn contraption, and I’m sure I’m kinda stressing. Or a lot stressing.
I’m making a concerted effort to not lose my shit.
This is me, folks. For 48 years, figuring out ways to calm myself so as to not lose my shit. I show up anyway. And just keep doing it.
It’s damn hard to be a woke person, a sensitive person, a empathic person, in a world of people that are not as willing to be as vulnerable and exposed as I am.
And I just show up again.
I guess this is what I can give, just this. It’s little and big at the same time. Little because since it comes naturally to me it feels like it’s not massive enough, and I should do more. Big because almost every day someone tells me that my openness or vulnerable self makes them feel seen.
Thank you for witnessing. For showing up and sharing what you feel. Thank YOU for your vulnerable stories. There are countless artists that have made their way into my heart through their writing, art, dance, music, acting, comedy, that have made me feel like they actually get what it feels like to be a person that lives life at full volume.