Little Landscapes

Too meetings. Many early. Much regret. The all day training is a bit difficult for me to tolerate. But I’m half done, and it will make my boss less nervous if I get the checkbox done. He’s actually in this class with me, but luckily not in my group. I’m gonna have to plan for like 0 day job the rest of the week, to balance this out.

Stress is high in the household. Shanda is having a hard time with the global death, which seems normal. But we have to find a less taxing way to cope with it; I can’t deal with 2 months of hopeless, breath-holding tension. It was a moderate issue this weekend and is harder to take now on top of busy work schedules. We can do better with some practice, and you can stop being too tense to be calm.

I bitched at the (outgoing) president of FIRST-WA yesterday, after she sent out a ridiculous inside sales pitch wherein she referenced COVID-19 and then compared the threat of fundraising shortfalls to upcoming deaths of several hundred thousand people and threatened to remove funding from what she identified as “undeserved communities”. When I told her that this was insensitive and that I expected better she transitioned from the “I” language of the sales pitch (which included an image of her signature) to a non-apology for my feelings written in “we” language. She also tried to connect to me on LinkedIn. But I was excited to see that in her non-response she asked for suggestions, and I was happy to provide a numbered list of ways she could be less shitty.

President of FIRST-WA is rich lady fake charity bullshit. Rich people parties and tax dodges and a little exploitation of young people as entertainment and so she can pretend to do “charity” work. This was the same person who promised every year to distribute funds to teams with F5 mentors, but never did ¹I was so fed up with this that I stopped doing it, even though there was some free money. I stopped updating FIRST stuff at work and someone unaware of my name change noted that I left the company and I did not correct them. I no longer hustle money for FIRST-WA. If I’m gonna hustle F5 it’s going to be for my own benefit.. Eventually I knew someone on the board and was able to bypass her, but she fucked with me for years, straight up lied pretty regularly (including in writing), all while I arranged for her to get $25k/year.

Haven’t heard from some of you since before everyone noticed the world dying. You should poke me sometimes, just to let me know you can still see me. Just so I know you still want me to notice you. I mostly do alright not worrying about you, but it feeds my reserves of calm, not to mention my heart, when I get to hear about your life. When I get to see you building your own safety.

I gave you this reassurance the other day [fig 2], and thought other yous might want it also. It feels unsafe, when we have to let other people see our uncertainty. It seems unfair to subject other people to our fears, or to the world. And it is. But it’s almost certainly better than pretending it’s secret, even though it’s uncertain and unfair.

Several of you imagine both that I’m too close – at risk of enveloping or overwhelming you – and that there’s a risk that if you behave incorrectly I’ll abandon you. I can think of many reasons why that combination might fill your brain. You were stuck with people who you needed to be close but who wouldn’t set boundaries. You were constantly managing their feelings to be sure they wouldn’t push you away again. You were “teased” or “played with” by someone who was jealous when they should have been kind.

In spite of what your brain yells, if you check the math I think you’ll see I’m unlikely to do any of those. It would be great if we could practice something low-stakes so your brain could get used to that idea – that I can be interested in you while still letting you be seperate, that I won’t react in a way that pushes you away even if my mood is bad or you share something stressful. I don’t need to be managed or feared, and I’d love the chance to prove it to your brain.

One way I imagine low-stakes practice might work is for you to think about your boundaries, pick something you want to share and feel safe (enough) about, let me into that prepared place, and then watch me respect the place beyond where you draw a line and get to be seperate. Or you might send me a one-line note that shares a thing you are afraid or ashamed of but that your smart brain knows I will support you about. Then you can watch me be compassionate and present and accepting, without rejecting or threatening or demanding anything. I think we could find ways to (safely) test the predictions your brain makes against both our history and your faith in me, instead of letting anxiety and trauma hold you in that lonely place your childhood created.

Saw some tiny canvases [fig 4], which made me smile, and got most of this month’s care packaged together. I’m sorry that they’ll arrive with some plague, and delayed by my increased isolation. I’ll sanitize the insides before mailing, if you promise not to lick the box. In any case I’m glad to get them going and to share stories and stuffs with you. Going out to mail them also sounds like a change and maybe relief, but we’ll have to see how death-y it feels when I go.

ZiB

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Sent from a phone.

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