Like Words Together Reflections from the deep end of Practice.


All the Days Are Long

Tonight CK got the alert about another curfew and I didn’t. 10,000 and more filled the downtown area. Curfew began at 8, I’ve seen reports that within 5 minutes police began firing tear gas canisters.

We stayed safely home. I feed us another dinner and gave CK a haircut. This is our new normal; doing it all at home.

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I Can’t Breathe

The last words of another African American, George Floyd, as police officers were killing him.

The Mayor put out an 8pm curfew order in Portland to stop the protests against police violence. Around 7:30, thirty minutes ahead of curfew, police began using massive amounts of tear gas to kettle protestors at the river.

CK and I watched a reporter Livestream for a while until we couldn't bear watching people scream and run from cops in riot gear and walls of gas.

The CDC website notes that 1,264 people died from COVID19 in the past day.

I'm amazed I made more food for us today. Dinner 77 was pretty basic, but got the job done.

There is no photo for those post. I spent too many minutes trying to find something there isn't anything that feels appropriate at this time.



Had a friend tell me today they had scheduled the whole day around a call with me.

They said something along the lines of, “Tell that to your sense of unworthiness!”

In response I felt good about for a short while but the rest of the night I kept catching myself in moments of self-loathing about my body, my ability to keep house, about past actions I regret.

I know it isn’t really me, it’s the trauma and the pandemic, but the work to keep reminding myself that I’m safe feels just exhausting today.


One Hundred Thousand and Counting

Today the Memorial Day reporting lull came to an end and the CDC officially reports 100,446 dead in the USA due to COVID19.

There have been yet more black people killed by police. I feel like there’s a new death almost daily from police violence.

Minneapolis is on fire in places, particularly Precinct 3 where the four officers involved with the killing were based at. A white police man knelt on the neck of a black man who then died, George Floyd was his name.

Tonight we wondered together of all summer there will be escalating riots, on both sides. I know where the police will stand, on the side of the right wing demanding to be served again, and it’s sickening.

I don’t even know how to hold it all.

I watered the plants. I recorded a video to send out Sunday. I feed us again.

I made art with George Floyd’s name and this terrible number. I ordered groceries to sustain two households. I rubbed CK’s feet to help her sleep, we’re both feeling very anxious. In the morning I’ll teach yoga.


So Tired

The CDC website doesn't yet report 100,000 deaths from COVID19, but that's only because numbers are taking time to come in after the Memorial Day weekend. We're already there.

We watched How to Survive a Plague tonight. It was both uplifting to see what the work of activists accomplished. Sad because as we're watching it the current time feel even worse than during the AIDS epidemic.

It reminded of the anger and grief I felt then. How much deeper, stronger, hotter both those emotions are right now. We're at a number of people dead in this country in a matter of months that took AIDS years.

I'm just exhausted by it all. I needed a nap today and yesterday, I'm reminding myself I went to therapy yesterday and it really sucks energy out of me. Trauma sessions are always intense and all the grief, anger, and fear right now, with the related exhaustion, is a normal response to these pandemic days.


Resilient Always

I was writing something else, will use tomorrow.

Trauma Therapy Tuesday was my big day out. I enjoyed my little post-session walk and was glad to keep working a little at integrating a terrible memory from age 4.

It's one that had unfolded new memories, it was worse. The last few sessions have me appreciating how remarkable I was as a child. I was brilliant at figuring out the least terrible option then getting through it and getting myself out of the house for a while.

I'm also marveling at how well I am, considering what examples were put before me as a child and what I endured.

I was, and am, a resilient bad ass.


Masks as Political Statements

Despite not pushing myself, taking breaks, and trying to move mindfully while gardening yesterday, my pain level had been very high today. I was really grateful I took the day off and this morning CK and I played video games while moving slowly.

I got some lettuce and kale planted for us.

We talked about the horrible white woman in Central Park off and on. I'm feeling pretty disheartened between her and a friend sharing she was harassed for wearing a mask at her local market.

"Rural is angry.", she noted about it.

My head hurts, mostly allergy related, butt partly the day's accumulated anger. My heart hurts, how can so many people believe wearing a mask to be protective of others and self is a political statement.

But it's 2020 and here we are.


Gardening for Hope

I got another raised bed prepped today! Tomorrow I can plant some lettuce and kale starts CK has waiting.

We've been dealing with home repair issues too. Our washing machine needs a new cord. We've managed to diagnose the issue and next weekend will fix it. We got it running fine, we think part the problem is the outlet.

This simple stuff has been good to bring focus on what is most needed. Or top priority is our well-being.

"Us first."

We started saying this after getting my Mother out of our home and lives. She'd done her level best to undermine and destroy what we'd built together, but we're stronger.

That said, these pandemic days are far more frightening than family drama. This is saying something given what a horror show my family was.

We're at nearly 100,000 people dead of COVID19 in the USA.


Seventy Dinners

It wasn't grand or special. We didn't even have exactly the same thing, my entree was leftovers and CK had hot dogs cut up in baked beans, yes, beanie weenie. There were carrot sticks for a veg side. The fruit salad for dessert was the most labor intensive part of dinner.

It was tasty, filling, and nutritious enough. We both ate our seventieth dinner together, that's the most important part. We played games together at the dining room table then each of us on a computer game, but in the same room together.

While checking on the dogs out in our yard I admired the bees attending all of flowers blooming right now.



The garden gave us Sugar Snap Peas today. Just a handful we ate while playing a game together this evening. They weren’t amazing, the way very freshly harvested produce is sometimes, but they were good.

I picked up the mail. It contained a handmade card and a linocut print, both made by students. “That’s a pile of fan mail”, CK commented when I got home.

I am, again, deeply moved at the offerings of my students. I’m also really impressed at how well people are adapting and growing.

Now that I’ve spotted the backdraft of shame in response to these mail days, I’m hoping that will begin to ease. Sometimes recognizing, then articulating these insights to CK, a friend, and/or my therapist, starts to break up the hold the Childhood Logic has on me.

Tomorrow is Dinner 70 and I have no idea what it will be, nor do I have anything thawing for CK. It might end up being very easy if we garden a lot. We’re also spending a bunch of the weekend playing games and discussing more ideas to make CK’s 40th extra special.