connection – The Angry Librarian

The last three months

January 28, 2021 flippingpageslikemad

To my dedicated base of readers: happy holidays. I myself did not get to fully enjoy Thanksgiving, nor celebrate Chanukah, nor celebrate Christmas. New Year’s Eve, I was bedridden, recovering from a 3-week hospital stay. I’m not ashamed of why I was hospitalized, but at the same time I do not feel like going into it now on the wide-open internet, but I will say I physically suffered from being in the hospital. I pray you had a less-shitty (which is to say less 2020) holiday season and you got to see your people safely and that everyone was in good spirits and good health.

My illness (and two hospital stays) means that in addition to having been away from blogging (but you knew that), I’ve also been off from work for almost three months. For a fun thought experiment you can try at home, try taking the largest source of empowerment and self-worth from a person with anxiety. Hilarity does not ensue. I love my job and the people that work with me, and I am unmoored without them.

The anxiety over wanting to return to work was nothing new; I’ve had anxiety for at least four years! What’s new is that it faded. I don’t feel anxiety because I am resigned. I know there is nothing I can do or say to speed up the return process. What positive updates, you may say! Not quite. I am numb with how much has been taken from me or otherwise lost. I physically cannot give any more fucks. The fucks have run out. This also translates to not really wanting to talk to or see others. I feel a sense of connection to family and friends who have reached out to check on me, but I am hyper aware of people who knew I was sick and did not reach out. (That said, my phone entirely died during the hospital stay and I have zero record of anything sent to me most of December.)

Despite the many loved individuals reaching out to me, I’m struggling with feeling community-less. Part of this is covid.. there is no in-person group activity happening at all in my circle of friends. Of my two main communities, one community won’t let me back in just yet, and the other I chose to step back from in November. Can I still be the angry librarian if I’m not working in a library? (I hope so, because WordPress just auto-renewed for another year.) I chose to quit because pandemic hours meant I had to go in for one two-hour shift each week and it was too much effort to juggle, and I will be happy to work there again once our hours normalize. It feels so different walking in now, but some of that feeling is due to pandemic/masks/plexiglass screens. I know that I am still part of the community, even though technically my role has changed. Now, instead of fearing that I’m the last to know library goings on, I actually am the last to know.

And for the first time ever, I’m okay with being the last to know (or, gasp!, not knowing). I’ve disconnected. I don’t even feel the anxiety over politics (thanks, Obama) because we are on our way to making the country operate like a rational entity again. Oh, and, I haven’t read the Skimm since November. It’s a wonder what being uninformed can free a person from! I was by no means a news junkie, but even the one political email I opened per day was stressful as hell. I’ll dip my toes back into the water eventually, but for right now, I’ve eliminated or disassembled many of my triggers. Medication helps, too, so I should not pretend I’ve reached this non-anxious state alone.

In summary, the last 3 months of my life have been not great. I have struggled with how to talk and write about something I don’t want to talk or write about, and this is intentionally vague to support that effort. It goes without saying, but I wanted to emphasize again that last year was a terrible year for traditional community-building methods, and I still miss our old way of life. I entered the hospital (still) a nervous wreck about the pandemic and exposure, and left as a person who often forgets to bring a mask on the way to run errands. Cured, or broken? I write to again remind people to check on their squad. Just because things are “looking up” does not necessarily mean all people feel up. I write to remind others and also hold myself accountable, as many people have reached out to me and I feel guilty only texting them back because I don’t want to talk on the phone. I write to say that yes I am jubilant about Biden and Harris in the White House but even that joy isn’t enough to motivate me when I have absolutely nothing to do. Biden and Harris can’t be my workout buddies, nor can they decide whether I do instacart or go to the damn grocery store myself.

So please excuse me as I go prepare for my day (yes, it is 11:30am). I will shower, put on real pants and go to the holy land of Trader Joe’s. God willing they will have the fancy gluten free muffins and I will even allow myself a seltzer purchase (and maybe, too, I’ll take a peek at the greeting cards). This is truly the one thing I have to do today. Here’s hoping I can find the motivation to pull it off. Though honestly, I might do my taxes instead out of procrastination. Tonight I’m meeting one of my beautiful friends for a virtual chat as we watch Uncorked, a Netflix Party of 2.

Slowly but surely I’m finding ways to pass my time as I enter week 3 of the attempt to reenter work. This month has been nowhere near as hard as being in the hospital, so I can’t hyperbolize, but I’m definitely not responding to the situation well. Send mail, send texts, even send thoughts and prayers. Anything is better than nothing!

be a better human, books, community, empathy, home, strangers, talking

If you look

May 30, 2020May 31, 2020 flippingpageslikemad

I exited a conversation with my best friend this week. We were chatting about how sickened we are that Minneapolis police murdered a nonviolent black man, George Floyd. I do not know how anyone under any conditions feels justified in taking another human life, much less when that individual is not threatening their own, much less begging for air. She lamented how depressing it is that humanity isn’t getting any better, that we don’t learn from history and continue being awful to one another. The conversation was too big and heavy for me to deal with during the work day. I felt my panic rising. Because that sense of futility, of hopelessness that nothing is getting better–those are my deep fears. Neither of us want to live in the type of place where police exercise deadly force without a threat to their lives. My brain grabbed for that one essay/chapter of a book where someone smarter than me addresses this concept and how it is a fallacy, but I came up short of the title. I tossed out a “think of the big picture” comment about how even though it feels that nothing is improving, I believe, as horrifying and terrible as every new racist murder is, overall the country is getting better.

It’s getting better because we are looking. This country was built on ugliness, on the trade, subjugation, brutalization and exploitation of enslaved people. Exploiting and murdering people of color is a truly evil and despicable part of this nation’s history, and though I don’t claim to be an expert, I know that race-based violence was far more mainstream and accepted the farther back you look. Now, we have the technology to record and share abuses of power with the world. Yes, racism is alive and well, but now we can expose it to the light of public opinion and demand change.

We are connected in our reactions (horror, mourning, rage) and our actions (signing petitions/calling/emailing the DA to demand that the people who perpetrated and who allowed the perpetration of this murder to be held accountable. Though I don’t condone destruction, I understand why Minneapolis is burning in protest. This is a reckoning.

What I didn’t have the time or the emotional energy to remind my BFF is that, as MLK made famous, the moral arc of history bends towards justice. This is not to say that the arc is a straight, ever-upward line. There are setbacks and tough times, and race-based violence has certainly increased since 2016. But systemic racism hasn’t gone anywhere, hasn’t decreased or increased. It is invisible. It is only there if we look. People choosing to stand up and mobilize on behalf of decency and good and refusing to tolerate bigotry and hate and inequality.. that’s how we bend the arc towards justice. Critical mass engagement.

I believe in reading about other experiences than my own, so here is a lengthy list of books about racial literacy!

I didn’t set out to write about this. I wanted to write about this amazing book I read called Kiss the Ground. Without getting too into the weeds, (is dad humor acceptable now that I’ve changed the subject?) it dealt with soil’s role in the carbon cycle, and it made me want to start a small farm and harvest it with my hands. I wanted to write about how nature is healing during the corona shutdown. I wanted to share a laugh at the “nature is healing / we are the virus” photos online. In case I haven’t been clear up to this point, I very much believe that we are the virus. We are the problem human-to-human, and human-to-environment. Our consumer- and profit-driven culture is killing the planet (specifically the heavy use of chemicals/factory farming and the omnipresence of plastics).

In this way, I have been so grateful for this insular time. (Yes, I am aware that being grateful for the pandemic is a privilege and acknowledge that I have an income and a yet-able-ish body.) I have barely driven my car, eliminating my guilt over burning fossil fuels. I have supported local businesses rather than monoliths. (At this point I almost entirely avoid Amazon, because this amount of money is sickening, crisis or not, when you consider how these companies pay SO little in taxes and how so many Americans are literally going hungry right now.) It isn’t easy to have our culture completely halted, and there’s that nagging fear that any time we leave our houses we will contract and spread a fatal disease, but the Earth is benefitting from this break from our fossil fuel addiction. This shutdown has disrupted our resource-guzzling autopilot.

Because yes, it is inconvenient and scary and uncomfortable being forced to stay at home and stop production/socializing/life as usual. But the air is clearing. Mount Everest is visible from 120 miles away whereas usually pollution obscures the view. This time is an amazing opportunity for clarity, for stillness. For observation and for recharging. But this clarity can only move those who look. When the world resumes again, we have the opportunity and responsibility to rebuild. I, for one, do not want to resume life as usual. I want something better. The status quo does not work for the critical mass.

Yes, there is a lot of turbulence right now, and it’s true that anger and violence in and of themselves don’t solve anything. But we have to take stock. We have to look at the problems we’ve been keeping in the dark. To recognize inequity, imbalance and their resulting rage. People in power can’t keep exercising ultimate control over other people, and they can’t keep exploiting the Earth’s natural resources. We can come out of this recentered, with a more inclusive, sustainable, equitable and engaged populace. I am appalled at how our government has responded to this crisis, and at how my fellow Americans are willing and eager to tolerate or perpetrate racist hate. If we look around, we must recognize that our country is not as great as we thought. We have to do better, in so many ways. If we look, we have to recognize that all people want and are made of the same stuff.

We can’t keep looking away from the problems in our country (same goes for the plethora of human rights violations around the world). Our government and industry have the power to create new jobs dedicated to sustainability and we the people have the power to elect leaders who have the powerless’ best interest at heart. Leaders who care about tomorrow and not just about profits today. Now is the time to reach out and help. To talk to people, even if they are hard conversations. To come together and demand change with this new clarity. If you look, there are plenty of people who share your fears, beliefs and hopes. Find them. Shine your light with them.

*not on facebook. Facebook doesn’t count.

books, community, empathy, kindness, reading, strangers

Collective

December 1, 2018December 1, 2018 flippingpageslikemad

It was a great week, and I will tell you why. This week, I saw not one, but two amazing speakers. I feel privileged to have seen Ta-Nahesi Coates and Michelle Obama in person, one in a more intimate theater and one a sporting arena. Very different settings, and no one screamed/gave Coates a standing ovation, but both nights were exciting!

These events were particularly significant to me because I don’t do a ton of audience type of activities. In the interest of saving money, I don’t go to a ton of movies, or concerts, or theatre. Crowds are often annoying, because people, so often my money-saving measures are doubly successful in keeping me at home or out with a small/curated group of people I like to be around.

But this week, I saw a lot of different people. At the university event, Coates was in conversation with a professor from the African-American Studies program, and it was the most intellectual conversation I have heard since college! It was great to listen to the two of them, both researchers and writers with a broad knowledge of history as well as each a specific expertise. They discussed the concept of progress, in terms of race relations and current events like police brutality and the NFL protests. Coates’ response about the NFL was perfect. Discussing how some fans dug in their heels and continued to wear Ray Rice’s jersey after the video of him beating his fiancee, he said “if people think Colin kneeling during the national anthem is grounds for removal from the league more than a man who beats his intimate partner, we have to ask whether they should be the arbiters of patriotism.” At one point they talked about their favorite books, and their nods of recognition at the other’s suggestions as well as the knowing “yes!”es and general geeking out made me so happy. I love when people talk about books, and apparently it doesn’t even matter if I am part of the conversation!

The crowd, though… It was a struggle to remain nonjudgmental. Throughout, the people behind me commented back and forth to each other disruptively. The woman two seats down filed her nails. Someone opened a package of fruit snacks with the full CRINKLE CRINKLE obnoxiousness. A young man answered his cell phone. And then, the classic people leaving before the event concluded. Finding all these actions inconsiderate to the fellow audience members and disrespectful to the presentation, I got a little distracted and irritated. However, I could tell that my reaction wasn’t nearly as bad as it may have been six months ago. I chose instead to be mindful of the privilege I had to be there and didn’t let others’ behavior ruin my night when I could pretend I was back in college. Plus, I was there with a friend, and she was the perfect seat mate. Afterward, we discussed our favorite parts, as well as the energy in the room; we noticed the crowd’s way of expressing their reactions (clapping or snapping in agreement, laughter or callbacks) and that it added to the experience. We felt like part of a collective.

Seeing Michelle Obama as part of her book tour was a drastically different experience. The crowd’s energy was crazy. The arena is enormous and equipped with arena-quality speakers, and between the happy vibes and the layout, I couldn’t have been annoyed by neighbors’ behavior if I tried. No one would hear a fruit snack package opening here. Even the fact that I was in the last row (literally. The only thing behind me was a wall, only thing above were the highest boxes) didn’t bother me–the ticket was free, and I love Michelle. LOVE. I went alone, using someone else’s ticket who last minute couldn’t go, and there was a young scholar on one side of me and another woman on the other. Instead of gluing my eyes to my phone as one does sometimes in close proximity to strangers, I chose to chat with both of them. It was really nice. The young man told me about a paper he needed to write after the event (about humanness and artificial intelligence), and we discussed Michelle’s book Becoming and I brought up another book I’m reading, called UnSelfie: Why Empathetic Kids Succeed in Our All-About-Me World. (Yes, I tell strangers about books. He started it!)

And her talk was amazing. She is such a classy, brilliant, warm human. Her book is phenomenal so far. She talked about her childhood, about marriage counseling, about going to college insecure and realizing she could hack it just as well, if not better than, anyone else there. She talked about the hope she has in the next generation of leaders and citizens. Hearing her speak was a reminder that the current news-burnout of controversy and corruption is not normal and not inevitable. Some of the talking points she discussed are the same as she relayed on Colbert, but being in the room with so many people who also adore her and who she inspires was special!

So, a great week was had by me. I got out of my usual routine, talked to strangers, and felt a sense of community, commonality, and gratitude for being able to go to listen to these awesome (literally, awe-inducing) people.

anxiety, books, career

This One’s for My Girls

January 14, 2018April 15, 2018 flippingpageslikemad

I had planned to write some furious paragraphs about Drumpf’s derogatory comments about brown countries, but I waited more than 24 hours and watched tons of personal stories (Anderson Cooper’s was particularly moving, as was Don Lemon’s) and reflections and jokes about how rude, racist and smugly rich he is. I’ve worked through my rage. He is an embarrassment to our country, and I am actually grateful that he is taking the GOP down in flames with him/drawing a line in the sand for elected officials to actually choose to be decent to and on behalf of their constituents. I have to believe that decency will win, in 2018 and in the long run.

But this political outrage/irritant is only one of many sources of anxiety. The outside world is nothing compared to the echo chamber of an anxiety-riddled brain. My friends and I constantly discuss the myriad ways that we question ourselves, our decisions and our progress in the adult world.

Last night, I went to dinner with three of my dearest friends, one of whom is moving out of state this week. She’s taking a risk, acknowledging that her part-time position won’t be enough to live on & knowing she will within the next few months need to find another part-time job, possibly a full-time job, as well as an apartment that is affordable and safe and not miserable for commuting in January. This is not the worst idea ever. She and her boyfriend will be living in the same city again. This is not the riskiest idea ever. She taught English in Japan for two years, venturing there without speaking more than a few sentences of Japanese. She is highly qualified, professional, thoughtful, organized, responsible and bilingual. (Yes, I know, show-don’t-tell, but I don’t want to violate her privacy.)

And yet, she is terrified at the weight of this decision.

As are all of my friends. About who they’re dating or the lack thereof, about how often they cry or don’t, about whether to buy a house, whether they bought the wrong one, about their rent, their income, their careers, their kids or lack thereof..

And yet. As with many other instances of my sweeping generalizations, upon further reflection, I know that is not true. I have many girlfriends (and more acquaintances, so maybe this also has something to do with how much more vulnerability you share with your closest friends) who are sure of themselves. They are not calm 100% of the time, but they are stable enough not to fly off the handles upon an unplanned event, a depressing news story. They are not entirely derailed or roadblocked by doubt every time they need to make an adult decision.

This is my goal. Closer to unflappable. Bold. Confident in my purpose. Kind to myself and less critical of others.

Here are some books that have empowered me to me move towards this:

About finances and how they generally work out if you take control of spending: You Are a Badass at Making Money by Jen Sincero

About relationships and what to accept/expect/let go: What French Women Know by Debra Ollivier

About caring less about what other people think: The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson

About how to clear my head/raise future children: Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv

About social anxiety and how I am definitely not the only one who suffers from it, and also just a pleasant reminder that comics are great: Adulthood is a Myth by Sarah Andersen

About how to be a person: The Power of Meaning: Crafting a Life That Matters by Emily Esfahani Smith

Everyone should read this book. This is my favorite excerpt, talking about a study that asked people to answer the question “Who are you?” after either staring up from the base of a tree or at a nondescript building.

The world is huge, and awe-inspiring! (Just ask Neil DeGrasse Tyson.) Perspective is important, as is getting out of my head enough to realize my problems are often not as catastrophic as they appear between my ears. In fact, thinking that they are just might inhibit me from behaving well towards others, and letting fear drive me absolutely blocks me from growing or changing, taking any risks at all.

My friend will be fine. She and this move may even be great. She will carry her support network with her and find a community of coworkers and explore a new city. Like me, she has to quiet the peanut gallery of doubts and welcome opportunity. Read before bed instead of scrolling through articles on her phone. It’s not okay.. yet. But who says it won’t be soon?