Change

Auld Lang Syne

Jeanna G1 Comment

2020. A year described by many as the following: A dumpster fire, shit show, kerfuffle, nightmare come true, omnishambles, hullabaloo, all hell broken loose, catastrophe, three ring circus, royal fuck up, comedy of errors, bizarre, unrivaled, hellacious, apocalyptic, calamity, and a world turned upside down.

WHO reports that, as I write this, over 74 million people have contracted the virus worldwide. I read in the Wall Street Journal that a quarter of all US jobs were disrupted as a result of the pandemic. The election divided us. Racial inequities lead to murders and riots. Fires and storms wreaked havoc on and devastated our habitats. Our ways of living, communicating, and interacting have all been upended and recreated. It’s not surprising that there has been a collective yearning for 2020, and all that came with it, to end and to never be thought of again.

But should old times be forgot and never brought to mind?

Uncertainty, worry, and feeling useless all took their toll and caused depression, an old acquaintance of mine, to rear its ugly head. But as time has shown, I’m a survivor who does not relish in pity parties. I also can’t be idle, no matter how often I think I ought to give it a try.

And so I move. And I do. And I retrain my brain to think positively and make the best of a situation. And that takes work. And it’s because of that energy and movement that, despite the headlines, I am grateful for this year.

This year has gifted me with the time and permission to think. I mean really think. Like not just about what I have to do that day, but go deep into the recesses of my brain and think about all of the things I usually don’t have the time or energy to think about. And there is a lot of stuff in there! I wrote some of it down in this blog, which I’m happy to have had the time to create this year. Other thoughts I wrote in the journal I’ve been keeping for my daughter since I was pregnant. Others I shared with my friends, because they also had time to just sit and think and ponder life with me. And some I just shared with God, because at the end of the day it’s just me and Him, and I can’t fool either one of us. I wonder if having and spending all of this time thinking is how the Ancient Greek philosophers felt in their day-to-day lives.

For the last few years, life was moving so quickly, and I didn’t feel like I could keep up at times. This year, time seemed to slow. I had time to play with my daughter. Time to try new things. Time to reintroduce old things. Time to contemplate and assess where I had been, where I was, and where I was going. And it has all made me feel a lot better about life. What began as a joke between friends became the mantra “We Are Here,” which we now repeat at our get-togethers. There’s something to be said for living in the moment. And so in 2021, as life starts to speed up again, my resolution is to make it a point to slow down and make time for the important stuff that, for reasons I still need to think about, I had put on the back burner.

And so 2020, for auld lang syne my dear, I’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

Be a Frolicker

Jeanna G3 Comments

I came across one of the most endearing posts on social media that I’ve seen in a long time (kitten and puppy pictures not included). It was of a person (@AshyMalik) frolicking and wondering why he had never known about it or done it before, and that a good frolic will turn your bad day around. It cracked me right up, and then made me a little sad to think there are people who never frolic! I’m a frolicker. I skip and gallop from point A to point B. My daughter and I mimic Phoebe Buffay when we’re in a hurry (remember the one when she ran through the park with Rachel?). I used to roll down hills (now I’d probably vomit). I love a good Maria moment when the hills come alive and I spin in circles. My coworker and I reenact the Parkour episode of The Office when our boss is out to lunch. When I taught PE I would have the kids travel to the line by bear walking, spinning, crawling, or inch worming, because walking was just too boring, and idle feet are the devil’s workshop (or something like that). It’s the carefree movements that really make us feel alive. Children are much better at this than adults. I suppose exercise is the grown-up version of frolicking; people can experience a kinetic catharsis without feeling too self conscious.

I used to be a wallflower at school dances, except for the slow dances. Fast dancing had long odds in my life. And then, when I was 24, I went to Webster Hall in New York. I was working as a Program Director at a camp in Jersey that summer, and Asia and Kasia, the two Polish girls who worked in the kitchen, were my cabin mates. They really wanted to tour NYC, and by “tour” I mean “go clubbing.” So I asked my cousin, Ben, where to go, and Webster Hall is where he sent us. So many rooms! So many styles of music! And I stood against the wall listening to the music in each of the seven rooms I wound my way through. Until it hit me. I stood there watching as Asia and Kasia had a ball dancing their asses off. I stood there. They danced. Who stood out like a sore thumb? Me! So, I danced. And the world didn’t end. So I danced some more.

Dancing is frolicking. Making snow angels is frolicking. Jumping in a pile of leaves is frolicking. Splashing in puddles is frolicking. Sneaking up on someone with a water balloon is frolicking, especially the running away part! Don’t be a wallflower. Give in to temptation. Carpe Diem. Be a frolicker.

How do YOU frolic?

Sharing is Caring

Jeanna G2 Comments

When we first moved to town, before buying the house I grew up in, we rented a house next to a family that became and remains close friends of ours. They had a daughter that was about my age, so naturally we played together often. When we bought our house around the corner and down the road, we still made our way back to their house to play on a regular basis. In the summers, they participated in a program called the Fresh Air Fund. Two young children from New York City would travel to our rural town to live with their host family, our friends, for the summer. My parents followed their lead and welcomed a young girl to live with us for a summer. I anticipated their arrival with a buzz of energy because I knew how the increase in group size would spur fresh dynamics that harnessed a lot of potential for game play!

The mission of the Fresh Air Fund is to transform limited opportunity into limitless potential for the underserved children of NYC. I wasn’t aware of this at the time, but my experiences with these children was my introduction to racial inequity. I remember how excited and nervous the children were in some of their new experiences with us. What do you mean you’ve never swum in a pond before? What do you mean you’ve never rolled down the side of a grassy hill before? What do you mean you’ve never stomped through a brook or walked through the woods or caught fireflies before? I took my advantages and opportunities for granted. I still do.

I offer up prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude, and prayers for those in need. My life’s work has revolved around helping the young and underprivileged gain skills and knowledge to achieve their goals. And so maybe I’m doing better than some of my privileged white counterparts in the awareness department, but I cannot become complacent, because there is always more to do and more to give.

I’m hopeful that, in light of recent events, more white people, myself included, will come to terms with their white identities. They will do some digging, uncover some truths, and let in some light. And then they will begin to share. And I don’t necessarily mean opening the doors to our homes to welcome in children from the city (although I highly recommend it!). I mean to share the kinds of things that are replenished and multiplied through the act of sharing: kindness, joy, knowledge, experiences, time, and friendship.

It’s past time for a season of change. It’s past time for those of us who have been breathing freely, stagnant as the air may be, to throw open the doors in our minds, because everyone can benefit from fresh air.

What gifts can you share? How can you help to level the playing field for all humankind? What opportunities and privileges have you taken for granted throughout your life?