I don’t write when I am happy

A few months ago, the Art of Manliness, had a post called “Why I stopped journaling” and it resonated with me, especially the part about managing emotions and not focusing on and writing about the negative.

I keep a private journal. I have been writing in it for years. Mostly I use it to chew on things that are keeping me up at night. I have not written in my private journal since March 7, 2020. And let’s be clear, 2020 is and has been an immensely unique and stressful year so far. Or as one of my good friend’s calls it “fascinating.”

My boss announced his retirement in April. The Board has yet to select his replacement. I have been serving as “acting executive director” along with my COO day job since June 1. I’ve been told I am not a candidate for the permanent executive director role. We have also lost or are losing soon some other long term team members to retirement, and are having to onboard new team members mostly remotely. Even the most introverted of us (I’m looking in the mirror here), are pretty much over working from home exclusively. Yes it’s safer. Yes our downtown building has been subject to significant vandalism and is currently surrounded by chain link fence with limited hours of operation. Yes we all connect by Zoom or phone or Google chat pretty much daily. But it’s not the same. And with all of the transitions, and uncertainty, it’s a challenge.
Do I even need to mention the coronavirus pandemic? A friend of mine from college, who is now an MD and contracted COVID-19, has been posting on Facebook about his experiences and his thoughts. If you are interested, I have been saving his posts (now 122 of them) to a Google Doc. He does a fantastic job of translating medical data, jargon, and research into understandable terms. This document is 291 single spaced pages as of today and growing. Copyright Dr. Demaree Inglese. It’s worth the investment of time to read through it especially if you are unsure of what you are hearing in the news or where it fits in the bigger picture.
Earlier this year, I had signed up for the Hoffman Process to do some serious navel gazing initially for April and then for June 2020. A friend had recommended the program. Both sessions I’d registered for were canceled due to COVID-19. I took it as a sign from the Universe that this wasn’t work I needed to do right NOW. The intake forms (50+ pages of soul searching) and pre-work (more special questions based on how I answered some of the initial questions) they required were illuminating. After filling out all of the forms, I’m not sure I want or need the full on 7 day immersion. And yet, also, I have no regrets that my $500 deposit is not refundable. I may do this eventually, but the pre-work was definitely worth the cost.
I love hot yoga, 239 classes in 2019, and my favorite studio has been mostly closed due to the pandemic. Yes they released some pod-casts of the series (life saving). And yes, I was doing them about once a week with a few space heaters and my shower on hot in my bathroom, solo, but it wasn’t the same. I was stunned to realize that I missed the community aspect – the people I trained next to each week but generally never spoke with. The studio has been doing limited classes lately, fewer people, masks, pre-schedule weeks in advance to get in, etc. It’s better than nothing, but not what it was before. I’ve celebrated almost every major holiday at this studio for the last few years – jam packed on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Winter Solstice (for 108 sun salutations), New Year’s Eve, etc. I’m guessing none of that will be happening in 2020, and while I can’t really know what the future holds, I am already feeling the loss.
I saw this today on Facebook, and it made me laugh. Word.

I’m sure there is more than this. I met someone for coffee on March 15, the day before Denver closed down for the pandemic, and the coffee lasted 5 hours. I rushed out to make a hot yoga class – my last real one this year although I didn’t realize that at the time. We’re still spending time together. He’s been teaching me to bike (stats) – 85 rides since late March, 1686 miles, 118,550 vertical feet of climbing, mostly road bike but slowly weaving in some more time on the mountain bike.

The world and the future seem completely uncertain, and yet I don’t feel compelled to write. I think it’s because I’m happy