#7 / The Lucky One
Hi everyone,
This week we found out that Illinois is extending our stay-at-home order until May 31. We’re also required to wear masks when visiting essential businesses. In slightly better news, selected state parks will reopen on May 1, and garden centers will also be reclassified as essential. Gethsemane, the massive one up the street from us, confirmed they will open their garden and herb center for business on that day. It’s a Friday, and Ashley and I both have it off already, so we’re planning to be there at 9 AM.
Yes, they have their own koi pond.
Credit: @GethsemaneGardenCenter
I didn’t bat an eye when Governor Pritzker first announced the stay-at-home extension. I was a little surprised it went all the way through May, but I also never thought it would actually end on April 30. And the mask thing is just a no-brainer. We’ve already been wearing masks each time we leave the house.
But now it’s a few days later, and I think the enormity of this is sinking in. We’ve been doing this already since, I don’t even remember exactly, but something like late March. A little less than a month, then, and now we have to do at least another month-plus in addition. That’s a big deal.
Maybe that’s why the last few days have been rough. I was feeling tired and didn’t go outside enough, because it has been chilly and dreary. The cancelled events keep piling up. Not being able to see anyone’s face underneath the masks is lame. Zoom chats are still not the same as real-life meetups. It’s hard to grieve when the griefs don’t stop coming.
We’re staying strong, because it’s the only option. But sometimes I think there’s danger in pretending that everything is okay. Everything’s not, no way, and that, ironically, is okay. Admitting this frees us up to deal with it head-on. It’s a challenge, or maybe an invitation, to summon more empathy and patience for the people we love the most. We’re often capable of more than we know.
Writing
I’m doing a flash fiction contest this weekend through the University of Iowa Writer’s Workshop. They gave us a short prompt on Friday afternoon, and it’s due Sunday afternoon. A thousand words or less.
Except for one abortive attempt, this is the first time I’ve written a short story in many years. Maybe since college. So it’s scary. But also, there’s really no pressure, because not only am I probably not going to win, but nobody even needs to see this if I don’t want to show it.
Writing fiction is supposed to be a fun activity, but sometimes I work myself up about it. I think this is a good exercise, because before I can get tied up in too tight of a knot, the whole thing will be over.
Reading
Productivity is Not Working by Laurie Penny
This is my favorite thing I’ve read since I started sending these emails. It gives names to a lot of feelings I’ve tried to express about the relentless drive for productivity and efficiency, which is at the core of startup culture, the self-help genre, and really American capitalism in general these days. I fell into this trap for a while, the trap of always wanting to be more and measuring myself only against “the best.” With my BookTrackr website, for example — it’s a long story, but I started it for fun, only to became convinced I could turn it into a business, to the point that I forgot why I was building it in the first place.
Clearly, this mindset works for some people; there are plenty of startup founders and self-help authors whom I’d consider to be well-adjusted — though in truth I don’t actually know how any “known” person acts and feels in private. It doesn’t work for me, though, and I’m glad I learned that about myself and moved on.
Anyway, this is an amazing article for many reasons, and a quick read. I love how it casts the cult of productivity in terms of “insecurity” and a “fear response.” (Again, I know this isn’t the case for all, but this is why I was doing it, and so it explains why I was seduced.) It even names what I’m feeling around my privilege of having a good job and a nice home during a crisis as “survivor’s guilt,” which is one those obvious-only-in-retrospect insights.
Mood
What are you lookin’ for down there?
“I am a diver, ‘cause I couldn’t take the air”
Diver - song by Vundabar | Spotify
Vundabar · Song · 2017
Thanks for reading. Please take care, and write back if you can!
Love,
Aaron