Today was a strange mix of highs and lows. It was a rainy day, and as I walked from the parking lot to class, my shoes and socks got wet and stayed that way all day (multiple trips between parking lot & class). Sigh. In my morning class, we finished a film about how women are portrayed in the media, and then followed that with discussion and a power point presentation full of really lovely (not) images--ads showing women objectified, sexualized, dehumanized. It. was. awful. I have pretty much eliminated tv from my life--I literally do not own one, and haven't watched anything since the Olympics were on back in August. I think the last movie I saw was Inside Out, which came out over a year ago. I never pick up the kinds of magazines (women's magazines, especially fashion) that I imagine would carry the kind of ads we saw in class. In other words, my eyes and brain were naive and innocent, and the nearly pornographic and violent images our professor showed were just too much. I sat there, trying to breathe, and realized my heart was pounding. It didn't feel like a panic attack, but in hindsight, I realize my body was in fight-or-flight mode. I felt wildly unsafe, viewing those images, and hearing the discussion of them. The class was a a very safe place, but...just seeing those images, I felt overwhelmed at how unsafe the world, and my place as a woman in it, felt just then. Who makes these images?! Who thinks this portrayal of women is okay?! And who--how many hundreds of thousands of people see these images and just casually flip the page, not feeling anything is amiss?!
Do you feel like something is wrong with these?!
I had to leave class. It was just too much. I cried a few minutes, wishing I hadn't had to see those images and experience/feel that, then realized that this is important. Feeling unsafe and enraged is an important first step to doing something to change this.
And then a high: I took 153 pounds of my ex's stuff to FedEx to ship to him1. I stood there and imagined that weight being removed from my shoulders. Sigh! The bonus was the guy who helped me was just so damn nice. He asked for the return address, and I started to give it to him, then remembered I don't want my ex to know where I live, and changed to my parents' address. We chatted while he worked, and he generously reassured me it gets better, that he was happily remarried after a bad first marriage, and will be celebrating his 20th anniversary next week. After helping repack several boxes and explaining the tracking numbers, he shook my hand and wished me good luck. I left and just felt so stunned at how sometimes the kindness of the least significant people in our lives can mean so much. A doctor can save lives, offer hope & healing, but so can the guy at FedEx. God bless him.
Back to school for my afternoon class...where we finished watching a documentary on rape and sexual assault on college campuses. SIGH. After the morning class, I just wasn't feeling very up to it. I hated to walk out of a second class in one day, so I doodled anxiously in a notebook to dissociate a bit from the film. Oh, you should see that sheet of paper! It is a mess of misquoted poems (I have them memorized, but couldn't recall them well in the emotional state), random words in alphabetical order, Japanese hiragana, most of the 50 states (also alphabetical). It was a tough class. After class, I spoke with the professor a bit and shared that I'd left the morning class because it was just too much. I half-joked that if she'd taught these topics at the start of the semester, I'd have dropped out, but now I'm trapped and have to finish the semester. I also half-joked that I planned to go home and cuddle my cat the rest of the afternoon and evening. She apologized, but I told her it's really okay. This stuff is real, and while it's awful, not learning about it, knowing about it, facing it, feeling about it, won't change it.
I left school and drove home, crying again about the two difficult, too-difficult classes. I stopped at the post office to mail a few things, and lo--another high! There was no line. And it was 4:30pm! How is that possible?! It sounds ridiculous, but seriously. I have bad, BAD luck with post offices. This was like a winning lottery ticket. In and out, and only $3.40 poorer :)
Just over four weeks until the 5k. I'm so excited! I'm up to 5:00 jogging / 2:00 walking intervals, x5. My total distance is right around a 5k now (actually 4 miles today!), and the jogging sections are easy enough that I sometimes push the pace a bit harder. I'm feeling very optimistic :D The other day I jogged far enough to discover a lovely boardwalk path back into a marshy area of the Arboretum. It's a great motivator to jog just a bit farther. This evening by the time I got home, it was getting dark quickly, drizzling still, and rather chilly. Not especially inviting weather to go jogging in, but I headed out anyways. I came across a muskrat (!), and Lake Wingra was a beautiful shade of gray, matching the sky perfectly. Despite being a chilly, dark-and-stormy-night, it was a really great night for a jog. I just feel like it's so great to get out, no matter the weather, and LIVE and remember there's a whole world out there, beyond tv and internet. It fills me with joy :D
This past week, the jogging got suddenly and unexpectedly easier and more fun. As I wrote, I'm feeling very optimistic about the 5k. Originally, I thought I'd just get through it, cross it off "the list" and quit jogging for life (haha) but...now I'm not so sure :) I have a feeling after this run, there may be something else...another (faster!) 5k, or a 10k. I feel so strong and powerful and beautiful (in my strength) when I'm out jogging. I don't think I'll quit after this ;)
And so that was my day...low, high, low, high. Intense, but I still wouldn't trade it for boring :) Months ago, I read a brief piece on being "Soulfully Single and Open for Love". I thought: yes, this. This is what I want. To be soulfully single. I think it definitely took me a few months to get there, after leaving NYC, but I've been feeling the soulful acceptance of --whatever life brings-- the past month or so. I may have even gone a bit overboard--I'm may be feeling a bit more "Intimidatingly Independent" than "soulfully single", haha (intentional capitalization there!). If anyone wants my love, he's going to have to really run to catch me, and I'm getting faster and stronger every day :D
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Thursday, October 20, 2016
October 20, 2016
I've signed up for my first 5k--a turkey trot Thanksgiving morning. I've wanted to do a 5k for...oh, about 8 or 9 years now. I've tried the Couch-to-5k training program...oh, about 5 or 6 times now, haha, ever hopeful! Usually I get motivated in the spring or fall, when the weather is nicest, and then after a few weeks...well, I'm not sure what happens. Maybe it gets too hard, or I get distracted by some new thing to sink my time and energy into. Knowing me, it's probably more the latter (ooh, shiny!)
I had been jogging this past spring in New York, and had a 5k picked out--close to home, cheap entry, far enough in the future to give me a chance to get up to a point where I can jog the whole thing. Of course, life intervened (in a pretty huge way), I never signed up, and didn't continue jogging.
This fall, in Madison, with so many things going on (work, school, looking for an apartment--and then a car, also: wrapping up that life interruption), I somehow found the spare time and energy to start jogging again, found a new 5k to set my sights on, and on the last day before the registration fee increased, I committed myself (or at least $40) to the run!
It helps a lot that I live close to some great jogging paths--the UW Arboretum is nearly my backyard, and Lake Monona is just a short bike ride away. I got a bit sidelined this past week and a half with a cold, but with the 5k coming up in five weeks, I went out again for a run this afternoon, lingering cold symptoms be damned. I started on the usual paved roads in/around the Arb, but noticed a trail going off into a wooded area and immediately took the path less traveled ;)
It was one of those beautiful and enchanting places where the trees arch close overhead, creating a cathedral-like effect. The gently curving path gave just enough of an inviting view ahead. I didn't have to remind myself to relax and enjoy the run. The ground was low and a bit soft, but as I jogged on, the ground turned positively soggy and mud sucked at my shoes. I was really having too much fun to slow down, so I bounded left and right across the worst of the mud, hoping to land on a drier and firmer bit of ground. Leaping, laughing, frolicking, trying not to twist an ankle! I need to run cross country more often--it's much more fun than pounding pavement.
On the way back, I felt so good about the run--just about getting out and doing it, continuing to do it, the joy of the path--and the mud! I felt, again, gratitude. For my strong, healthy, beautiful body that allows me to have these happy moments, for the time and energy and dedication. In a moment, I realized: this jog is my prayer of thanks.
I had been jogging this past spring in New York, and had a 5k picked out--close to home, cheap entry, far enough in the future to give me a chance to get up to a point where I can jog the whole thing. Of course, life intervened (in a pretty huge way), I never signed up, and didn't continue jogging.
This fall, in Madison, with so many things going on (work, school, looking for an apartment--and then a car, also: wrapping up that life interruption), I somehow found the spare time and energy to start jogging again, found a new 5k to set my sights on, and on the last day before the registration fee increased, I committed myself (or at least $40) to the run!
It helps a lot that I live close to some great jogging paths--the UW Arboretum is nearly my backyard, and Lake Monona is just a short bike ride away. I got a bit sidelined this past week and a half with a cold, but with the 5k coming up in five weeks, I went out again for a run this afternoon, lingering cold symptoms be damned. I started on the usual paved roads in/around the Arb, but noticed a trail going off into a wooded area and immediately took the path less traveled ;)
It was one of those beautiful and enchanting places where the trees arch close overhead, creating a cathedral-like effect. The gently curving path gave just enough of an inviting view ahead. I didn't have to remind myself to relax and enjoy the run. The ground was low and a bit soft, but as I jogged on, the ground turned positively soggy and mud sucked at my shoes. I was really having too much fun to slow down, so I bounded left and right across the worst of the mud, hoping to land on a drier and firmer bit of ground. Leaping, laughing, frolicking, trying not to twist an ankle! I need to run cross country more often--it's much more fun than pounding pavement.
On the way back, I felt so good about the run--just about getting out and doing it, continuing to do it, the joy of the path--and the mud! I felt, again, gratitude. For my strong, healthy, beautiful body that allows me to have these happy moments, for the time and energy and dedication. In a moment, I realized: this jog is my prayer of thanks.
Monday, October 17, 2016
October 17, 2016
A surprising realization today...
I was taking a walk with a friend earlier and he was talking about his work, past and present. His expressed some uncertainty about what his future held for employment--just that he wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. So I pulled out the million dollar question, which I first learned from my sister, who was asked it by a college advisor: if you had a million dollars, what would you do with your life? (My sister's undergraduate advisor asked her this question probably 15 years ago; we might need to adjust "one million" for inflation purposes!1) The point is, if money were no object, what kind of work would you most like to do? In other words, what is your true passion, that you might be ignoring because of fear that it won't pay the bills? His response was writing a novel or two. (Sweet dream, btw, go do it!) The conversation got distracted, probably by a certain dog who was tagging along (she wanted to chase after ducks...), but a while later, after hearing about my work, past & present, he turned the question back to me.
I was momentarily speechless. I have thought of this question many times in the past, and always had a ready answer, but today, I was grasping at a void. My immediate reaction was so unexpected that I looked right past it: I'd do what I'm doing right now, nearly exactly. Whoa. I mean, this is big. This is seriously huge. I'm satisfied with my life right now! So satisfied that a million dollars wouldn't immediately make me jump ship at my job and otherwise drastically alter the course of my life. I love my classes. I'm optimistic about the direction I'm heading, career wise. My coworkers are 98% fantastic (really, that's an incredibly high percent). I know my current job isn't the job I want to have forever, but it fits into my life right now. And while that imaginary million dollars would certainly be welcomed, celebrated, and put to some use, it wouldn't make me change my life much. Granted, my life at the moment is far from static. I've got a number of dreams, short and long term that I'm working towards, but given that million, I'd keep moving forward as I am.
It seems a common theme at the end of my blog posts lately, but again, I am grateful. So grateful that the rebuilding of my life is going so well, and that I've found more satisfaction than I would have imagined possible.
I was taking a walk with a friend earlier and he was talking about his work, past and present. His expressed some uncertainty about what his future held for employment--just that he wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. So I pulled out the million dollar question, which I first learned from my sister, who was asked it by a college advisor: if you had a million dollars, what would you do with your life? (My sister's undergraduate advisor asked her this question probably 15 years ago; we might need to adjust "one million" for inflation purposes!1) The point is, if money were no object, what kind of work would you most like to do? In other words, what is your true passion, that you might be ignoring because of fear that it won't pay the bills? His response was writing a novel or two. (Sweet dream, btw, go do it!) The conversation got distracted, probably by a certain dog who was tagging along (she wanted to chase after ducks...), but a while later, after hearing about my work, past & present, he turned the question back to me.
I was momentarily speechless. I have thought of this question many times in the past, and always had a ready answer, but today, I was grasping at a void. My immediate reaction was so unexpected that I looked right past it: I'd do what I'm doing right now, nearly exactly. Whoa. I mean, this is big. This is seriously huge. I'm satisfied with my life right now! So satisfied that a million dollars wouldn't immediately make me jump ship at my job and otherwise drastically alter the course of my life. I love my classes. I'm optimistic about the direction I'm heading, career wise. My coworkers are 98% fantastic (really, that's an incredibly high percent). I know my current job isn't the job I want to have forever, but it fits into my life right now. And while that imaginary million dollars would certainly be welcomed, celebrated, and put to some use, it wouldn't make me change my life much. Granted, my life at the moment is far from static. I've got a number of dreams, short and long term that I'm working towards, but given that million, I'd keep moving forward as I am.
It seems a common theme at the end of my blog posts lately, but again, I am grateful. So grateful that the rebuilding of my life is going so well, and that I've found more satisfaction than I would have imagined possible.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
October 12, 2016
Last night was pretty rough. I received an email that was useless and abuse-full. I read it late last night and the emotions it stirred up spilled over into today. After my morning class, I thought maybe I'd just skip the afternoon class and take some time to recharge (probably cuddling my cat on this cold rainy day). But I was reluctant to miss and after a bit of time and a decent meal, I headed back to campus for Social Problems.
Before I started the semester, I predicted, I think fairly accurately, that Sociology of Gender would be really interesting, and Social Problems would be pretty depressing. Today's Social Problems class, we looked at global gender inequality. The first power point slide: Acid Throwing (complete with photos). I hung my head and covered my face with my hands. I thought: I just can't do this today. I can't look at this stuff, hear about this stuff, think about this stuff, absorb these realities into my head and heart and soul. I debated leaving the class, but stuck around as slide after slide, we covered the greater horrors of being a woman in the world today (today--2016!): dowry deaths, femicide, rape, honor killings, sex slavery, etc. Not an uplifting afternoon, especially layered on a rough night.
At one point, a man in the class told us how, when he was deployed to Afghanistan, his unit came upon someone being stoned (seriously? 2016!). They tried to intervene, but their leader had to order them to move on. It wasn't something they could stop, and they needed to continue their mission. The student spoke about it soberly, and it was clear he had a hard time reconciling the fact that he had to walk away from that. He said he signed on to protect life--granted, the life of Americans--but seeing that, he felt the same call to protect life regardless of nationality, and ultimately, couldn't. The class was silent. It was, literally, a moment of silence. I felt horrified by his experience, but honored that he shared it with us.
On the way home after class, I cranked up some Lady Gaga. I just needed a female power anthem, and I hadn't listened to Born This Way in a few months. Driving down East Wash in my new-to-me red Prius, base thumping...I felt strong, proud, secure. But towards the end of the song, everything hit me: my privilege. And then: tears of gratitude.
I am so lucky. To live in a country where I can work full time. Go to school. Live on my own. Buy my own car. Listen to female power anthems. Meet guys of my choosing. Tell a guy I'd like to see him again. Tell a guy I don't want to see him again. Marry a guy I love, divorce a guy I don't, and have legal rights and social acceptance either way. Hell, I can change 'guy' to 'girl' in those sentences if I'd like. I can have a baby as a single woman (sperm donor, adoption) or I can marry and use birth control. I have these and hundreds of other choices.
I can ride a bike--we learned in class that women in Saudi Arabia were just granted permission to ride bikes in 2013, and then: only fully covered and with a male guardian. It was after midnight when I left work last night; I biked home, alone, from my full-time job to my apartment where I live alone (not lonely!). I wore pants and a top and didn't give my clothes a second thought beyond wishing I had worn something a bit warmer.
I don't often realize the ways I have the privilege of choice. I'm sure there are hundreds of freedoms and rights I have--and take for granted--that other women, if they attempted to do those things I don't even think about--would risk death.
It was an awful and awesome class, and I am so grateful.
October 10, 2016
Last night I tried to watch the presidential debate. I only made it through 15 or 20 minutes before Trump's inability to acknowledge his mistakes and sincerely apologize for them, his repeated excuses ("locker room talk"), denials, and deflections, the way he dragged the focus to someone else's unrelated mistakes...left me too disgusted and angry to continue to watch. I felt a personal empathy towards Hillary, having to stand there and just listen to him. What can you say when someone utterly refuses to accept responsibility for their loathsome actions and beliefs? You can attempt to help them see their errors and the gravity of them, but there are some who so steadfastly refuse self-reflection and empathy that your effort is wasted and you end up more frustrated than ever at your powerlessness. I couldn't watch any more, I saw more than enough.
This morning between classes, I swam some laps as I usually do. I returned to the locker room, showered, and got dressed. When I was nearly ready to leave, two other women came into the locker room--one quite elderly who I see swimming and doing water exercises regularly, the other a strong young woman who clearly swims/swam at a competitive level. I overheard the younger praise the older for swimming so consistently. The older woman minimized the compliment saying she often finds it hard to get motivated to keep coming back, but that she does shoulder exercises in the water that will help her avoid a surgery. The younger woman again enthusiastically reiterated her admiration for the older woman's dedication and effort.
And I thought to myself: this is locker room talk. Here is a one woman encouraging and building another up. Yes, in the relative privacy of a locker room (or similar setting), we can resort to less noble topics. But the topics we chose to speak on are chosen, they are choices that reflect our personal values. The locker room talk I overheard was beautiful and timely. I am so grateful.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
October 8, 2016
Wow, just read over my last post, from the day after I arrived back in Madison. It's been a few months since that vulnerable time, and I'm absolutely thrilled to get back here and share: vulnerability be damned, this is an awesome time in my life. I've had my moments (but only a few) and overwhelmingly, this was the right direction to take in my life. No regrets.
I've been busy as hell (in a good way) and have thought of this languishing blog a number of times, but just couldn't seem to find the time to sit down at it. I guess I regret that...documenting my journey over the last few months would have been really valuable. Alas. It's documented in my head & heart, which will satisfy me.
I've worked at my new job for almost three months now. I make IVs (and other sterile products) the entire 40 hour workweek. At times it gets a bit tedious--I quite literally stand in one place for 8 hours. But I did always say I'd love to make IVs all day, and--wish granted! The hospital is large (and in charge, haha), so the variety of products I make keeps it interesting. Some highlights: I can now claim to have worked with arsenic (!); a medication that is a relative of mustard gas (!); and a good number of drugs that are used in the prevention of organ rejection (I SO love being a tiny part of the organ transplant world!). Put like that, my job is pretty f'ing awesome! On the other hand, I can legitimately describe my job as full of "drugs, alcohol, and loud music" (the alcohol being 70% isopropyl--used for disinfection purposes; the music being Pandora, to keep the Oompa Loompas happy and drown out the HEPA filtration systems.) I'm really not the type of person who generally enjoys "drugs, alcohol, and loud music", which is, I guess, why they have to pay me to do this stuff :P My coworkers are about as great as I could hope for--generally hard working and helpful to one another. And I get scrubs provided by the hospital--and laundered by them too. Best job perk ever.
I started classes, with trepidation, at the end of August. It's been a while (uh, like ten years) and I just didn't quite know what I was getting myself into. Ohh, but they are great! I'm taking two classes--Sociology of Gender and Social Problems. Social Problems pales in comparison to the Gender class. The problems are, well, depressing, though there's some interesting points that come up now and then. Probably the best part of that class is just learning more about how conservatives & liberals view social problems and what each group feels is the best way to solve them. I'm confirming over and over again my undeniable liberal political stance. Every. Issue. Liberal. (Okay, I admit, once in a while the conservatives have a good point or two, but forced to choose a side, it's still liberal.)
Sociology of Gender...seriously, everyone needs to run to their nearest community college (especially if that is Madison College--the professor is amazing) and take this class right now. It's fascinating (from an intellectual standpoint), but also personal. I doubt it matters how you define your gender or sexuality, the topics in this class affect everyone, and I think we can all benefit from increased awareness and discussion of the issues. If you want to know more about what we're studying and my experience of the class, please ask, but I'm going to not go into a passionate lecture here and now ;)
I could tell my one (haha, love you, Ginny!) blog reader about other things in my life: the new apartment, new car (!), volunteering, and other things I'm doing in my very limited free time, but I think this blog post has been narcissistic enough for one day ;)
I've been busy as hell (in a good way) and have thought of this languishing blog a number of times, but just couldn't seem to find the time to sit down at it. I guess I regret that...documenting my journey over the last few months would have been really valuable. Alas. It's documented in my head & heart, which will satisfy me.
I've worked at my new job for almost three months now. I make IVs (and other sterile products) the entire 40 hour workweek. At times it gets a bit tedious--I quite literally stand in one place for 8 hours. But I did always say I'd love to make IVs all day, and--wish granted! The hospital is large (and in charge, haha), so the variety of products I make keeps it interesting. Some highlights: I can now claim to have worked with arsenic (!); a medication that is a relative of mustard gas (!); and a good number of drugs that are used in the prevention of organ rejection (I SO love being a tiny part of the organ transplant world!). Put like that, my job is pretty f'ing awesome! On the other hand, I can legitimately describe my job as full of "drugs, alcohol, and loud music" (the alcohol being 70% isopropyl--used for disinfection purposes; the music being Pandora, to keep the Oompa Loompas happy and drown out the HEPA filtration systems.) I'm really not the type of person who generally enjoys "drugs, alcohol, and loud music", which is, I guess, why they have to pay me to do this stuff :P My coworkers are about as great as I could hope for--generally hard working and helpful to one another. And I get scrubs provided by the hospital--and laundered by them too. Best job perk ever.
I started classes, with trepidation, at the end of August. It's been a while (uh, like ten years) and I just didn't quite know what I was getting myself into. Ohh, but they are great! I'm taking two classes--Sociology of Gender and Social Problems. Social Problems pales in comparison to the Gender class. The problems are, well, depressing, though there's some interesting points that come up now and then. Probably the best part of that class is just learning more about how conservatives & liberals view social problems and what each group feels is the best way to solve them. I'm confirming over and over again my undeniable liberal political stance. Every. Issue. Liberal. (Okay, I admit, once in a while the conservatives have a good point or two, but forced to choose a side, it's still liberal.)
Sociology of Gender...seriously, everyone needs to run to their nearest community college (especially if that is Madison College--the professor is amazing) and take this class right now. It's fascinating (from an intellectual standpoint), but also personal. I doubt it matters how you define your gender or sexuality, the topics in this class affect everyone, and I think we can all benefit from increased awareness and discussion of the issues. If you want to know more about what we're studying and my experience of the class, please ask, but I'm going to not go into a passionate lecture here and now ;)
I could tell my one (haha, love you, Ginny!) blog reader about other things in my life: the new apartment, new car (!), volunteering, and other things I'm doing in my very limited free time, but I think this blog post has been narcissistic enough for one day ;)
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