Of Viruses

I'm being stalked.

By a head cold.

One day I feel fine, the next I don't. The next I feel like I'm coming down with something. Then the next...I don't. For the past 2 weeks this cycle has challenged me and frustrated me.

Just make me sick - OK? Let's get it over with!

Well it finally listened. Yesterday the cold decided to make a home in me. I closed up shop and slept for 16 hours. 

The cold - snuggled in with me. Dammit.

And so, as I do every few years, I go into Christmas with illness in my bones.  Thankfully our big family celebrations are over. So it is The Oracle and I - just us.

Which, illness or not, we generally prefer.

I am the Christmas Eve Lector at our Parish - it's not a late night, the readings are glorious and I should be up for that so long as I have a nice nap prior.

Oh yes - naps. They are the best restorative there is and I shall be indulging heavily for the next several days.

In the meantime I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and peace in the New Year.

Yes - peace. Of mind, heart, soul and world.

Sunday Symphony

A new week begins. After the past week (or if I'm going to be brutally honest the past 3 months)...I don't have high hopes for this new one.

My job in corporate america has got me running in so many different directions these days. The stress level is just about the worst I've experienced in a decade - and trust me, that's saying so much. Took on an entire job on top of the one I already have; not thru any choice of mine. As an Executive Assistant my job is really not my own. So now I support two senior-level executives in a Fortune 100 company - in the form of one person. My boss (aka His Nibs) took on an additional C-Suite role and while we were going to split the E.A. responsibilities between 2 of us, His Nibs decided he only wanted one and since we've worked together for nearly 9 years - the obvious choice was me.

Obvious. Obviously.

And not one of my already-existing job responsibilities has been shifted to anyone else since this began nearly 3 months ago. Oh they discuss it, they assure me it will happen - then talk in circles around me. One person says one thing, then another says the other person said something totally different. As if I can't see what's going on. 

I don't think His Nibs is fully aware of the shenanigans that are taking place around me; and I try to keep him informed since the others involved don't seem to be doing their part. It's an ongoing battle that is just wearing me out.

(On a side note - I dislike intensely being treated like I'm a 5 year old, incapable of understanding how things work or what's going on. Just because I don't have some combination of "Vice President" in my title doesn't mean I'm not smart or at least savvy.)

But I digress. My job stress is really kicking the stuffing out of me (and by extension my life). Getting thru each day is a challenge of workload, additional demands, and trying not to cry. 

I pray. Probably not as much as I should yet in the time I have - I pray. Sometimes it's just 4 words - God, please help me.

Other times I do my best to pray like this:

Down like a child
On my knees
All that comes to me
Thy Will Be Done. 

I know you see me.
I know you hear me, Lord.
You're plans are for me.
Goodness you have in store.

Surrender. Give it all over to the Lord. Set down the baggage and let Him carry it for you.

If you know me at all, you'll know how incredibly difficult that is for me. Then again, it's probably difficult for all of us, so I know I stand on this corner surrounded by so many others. And so I pray; I listen to the song above on repeat. Praying each time that the words will sink into my deepest soul and help me - do it.

Which always, inevitably, leads this mere human being to ask those questions - the ones we don't like to ask. The....why's. The...when's. The...now's. 

God doesn't work that way of course. Anyone who has read even a small fraction of the Bible understands that God's Time is HIS to control. 

Times like these - with all that is going on in my personal life, work life and, for all of us, the mess that is the world we are enduring at present - really do make me question the wisdom, compassion and love of God.

Come Emmanuel, Come.

Please.

Of Links & Honor

For many years I have been the keeper of my family's archives. Photographs, papers, and other ephemera always seems to make its way to me. For many years I ensured it was all safe, if not completely organized. Beyond that I didn't do much.

Then a long-ignored photograph yielded an unexpected surprise. This photograph is a B&W of Charles Lindbergh with a man named Basil Rowe. On the back of the image was a note, from my paternal grandmother, claiming that Mr. Rowe was her first cousin. I should also mention - the picture includes the Spirit of St. Louis in the background. It is a press photo taken at the time Lindbergh was about to make his astonishing journey in said aircraft. 

Now...seriously. Who would believe that a previously thought of unremarkable family would have a cousin who would be in a press picture with Charles Lindbergh. My grandmother certainly did, to her dying day. None of the rest of us would buy it. Eventually the photograph made its way to me, the archivist, and I promptly forgot about it. Then one day it surfaced again and I, finally, got curious - who was this Basil Rowe anyway? And why was he in a picture with Charles Lindbergh? And why did my Gram have this picture? Not a copy, an original photograph. 

Capt. Basil Rowe -
original postcard issued by Pan American Airlines
source: www.clipperculture.com

So I started researching Mr. Rowe and discovered that not only was he indeed a first cousin - he is counted among the pioneers of aviation:

Capt. Rowe was a prominent pilot and entrepreneur, who became the first captain for Pan American Airways. In 1927, he founded West Indian Aerial Express, the first commercial airline that offered schedule service between San Juan, Puerto Rico, Santo Domingo, Haiti, Cuba, and the Virgin Islands in the Caribbean.

Gram, sorry we didn't believe you! It was truly an epic discovery. And one that lead me down the path of genealogy research to become one of the earliest users of Ancestry.com.

Over the years I have fiddled off-and-on with Ancestry. 15 years ago info was tough to come by making research quite challenging.

Then - records began to be digitized. Which started to flood Ancestry with information that included scans of original documents written by the original scribes. Or individual pages of historical records, websites, wills, probate information, birth and death certificates, cemetery locations, etc... And in the years since that flood began the amount of big data available thru Ancestry increases exponentially with each passing month.

Which turned me into an obsessed individual - spending countless hours on Ancestry, digging thru records, reading tedious details that turned out to be not-so-tedious after all. And that has lead to incredible discoveries.

For starters - about 65% of my entire family arrived in the colonies between 1628 and 1710. Of the remaining 35%, about 75% of them were here by the early 19th century with just three individuals arriving at the turn of the 20th century. I even have an aunt, thru marriage, who arrived in 1620 aboard the Mayflower...Remember Allerton (gotta love those olde English names). 

Once I confirmed all that - I leapt forward over 100 years to see if it was possible that any of my multi-Great Grandfathers might have served in the American Revolution.

Any? How about seven - confirmed. With a few more pending additional information. And that doesn't cover all the Uncles and Cousins. To say I was stunned by all of this would be a massive understatement.

I belong to an historically-significant family. Founding families of Kittery, ME, Portsmouth, NH, Hingham, MA, and Scituate, MA. There are plaques in some of these towns with my ancestors' names on them. 

My 11th Great Grandmother

My maternal 11th Great Grandmother and her sister, my 12th Great Aunt, were executed during the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Yes, you read that right. Their names are on memorials and dedications all over that area. My aunt's house is now a museum. A third sister was also jailed during that time and escaped persecution as the fervor died down. Talk about surreal. 

And not a single person in my family ever knew about any of this. Or if they did it was never discussed. Which leaves me with the lingering question - why? Why not share this incredible information, why consign it to the dustbin of discarded memories? Why were there no documents saved of at least one of the Grandfathers who served at the founding of this nation?

Or the other men who served during the War of 1812, the Civil War, and WWI? Their honor buried away - forgotten.

I always loved my position in my family of archivist - proud of retaining the pictures and papers, thinking myself to be so forward-thinking to preserve this information. I never imagined it would take on such - significance to my life.

Now, more than ever, I am proud of the intense work I've done to uncover these people - the sacrifices they made to come to a wilderness and build a new life. The untold hardships each generation endured to keep that dream alive.

I am here because these amazing, courageous people made decisions to pursue something unique, something unheard-of, something BRAVE and NEW.

They will not be forgotten now. My quest to connect all the dots, to follow every family line to the oldest point of reliability, will be one I undertake until I die.

Oh yes and I'm also doing this for my husband's family. My next post on this topic will cover some of that history - and how it relates to mine in a unique and surprising way.

Of Frustration & Anxiety

I know - I said this would be a politics-free zone. And it will be. Yet I must get off my chest something related to politics but more central to friendships & relationships. 

Specifically - why do people feel that political conversations these days must be part of the overall relationship. It can be a dicey proposition to discuss the political landscape when two people don't agree, especially in our current cycle of political players.

Case in point:

I am a conservative when it comes to politics. I have some liberal-leanings which, if I must declare a party, would make me a Libertarian.

I live in New England - and in this capacity it is known mostly for it's anti-conservative stance. Which can make a conservative feel a little lonely, left out...wide open for potshots.

And such is the way of things these days. In fact, just after the 2016 election my closest friend of nearly 25 years ghosted me. Just ceased speaking with me, wouldn't answer calls, texts or any other means of communication. Even face-to-face wasn't tolerated by her; she'd walk away from me. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what was going on. She is a classic New England liberal - and I am not. Now this was no secret to her; we'd been very close for 2 decades and my politics were the same in that entire time. But after Trump became POTUS - the gloves were off, the insults were hurled, accusations were made and a long-standing friendship came to an abrupt end.

Sad really. Such a tragic and useless end to an otherwise remarkable relationship. Or at least it was remarkable to me.

Anyway in the 3 years since that awful experience I have maintained a "no political conversations policy" with any of my friends who aren't on the same side. If we agree we can have meaty discussions; if we don't it will only devolve into unpleasantness. It's been a pretty good policy, for me. We know that underneath the surface we disagree about politics but seriously - why bother about it?

For one thing - politics is boring, if you know what I mean. There is so much more richness to be found in conversation without delving into that particular cesspit. Never more so than these days. And because of that any political discussions are fraught with frustration and anxiety.

Which leads me to the reason for this one-time political post: yet another friend has forced their way into my political arena in a most unpleasant fashion. To wit:

• "I can't believe a friend of mine is a Trump supporter."
• "Trump supporters are unwell."
• "I just don't understand how you can support him."

All of this despite my numerous and increasingly hostile requests to stop trying to draw me into this particular corner wherein there will be no winners. Showing an utter and total lack of respect for me this individual just kept pushing and pushing and pushing some more.

All the while telling me how important I am to them, how much they care about me, love me, etc...yet continue to insult and attack me.

Really.

Really?!

Really!!!

W.T.F.

As you saw coming a mile away - this individual has left me no choice but to cut them off from my life. They claim I am ghosting them; au contraire my little bleeding heart. I was quite specific about what would happen if you persisted.

Funny - they claim to represent the party of "tolerance" yet all I see is intolerance masquerading as righteous indignation. For a group of people who stand on their moral high ground as compassionate members of society, their hypocrisy - when on full display - really is a technicolor wonder of hubris and judgement. 

YMMV of course. 

Of Spontaneity

I am a planner.  In my work & home life I need to see things planned out in-full.  If a wrench is thrown into the mix I can roll with that.  Yet I still like to see things laid out neat and tidy.

(Full confession - I still use a paper planner.  Either @erincondren or @plumpaper.  High quality, spiral-bound planners with lots of goodies to add into the month.  I am a #planneraddict.)

Anyway...so I'm a planner.  The Oracle recently suggested that I have lost my sense of - spontaneity.  He's not wrong.  Many things in the past few years have driven me to need to have every moment of our lives planned to the max.  

Sean Scully Scuplture
at the Wadsworth Atheneum

Most of my life - childhood thru my late 40s in fact - was filled with chaos of some kind.  Emotional, physical chaos.  It swirled around me like a whirlpool; spinning me out, letting me think I could escape and then spinning me back in.  My earliest memories are of chaos & fear.  In fact it was so early in my life that it was my "normal".  I was unaware of it day-to-day, for decades.  And then one day just a few years ago the scales fell from my eyes and I saw the chaos for what it was - abuse.  

And thus began a still-ongoing recovery process that has included my awareness of why I need to plan.  Planning makes me feel like I'm in control, that the chaos is contained.  Knowing every detail of what is coming up makes me feel safe.  Even my professional life as an Executive Assistant is all about...planning.  Seeing a conference or meeting come together and flow perfectly because of my attention to detail and planning acumen are some of the most satisfying moments of my work life.  

And The Oracle is right - it has overtaken our personal lives as well.  If it's not in the house-planner it doesn't happen.

So I took his comment to heart and have spent time & energy trying to figure out how to get out of the planning-rut I have found myself in.  The rut that governs our private lives and sucks the joy out of just - running off and doing something different.

The Oracle - may regret this.  Because I just did something so out of character for me that I'm hugging myself inside with absolute glee.

It's a simple thing to most people.  To me it's a visible sign that I may finally be able to let go of the chaos I've been running from since I was 5 years old.

Four days.  First class flight.  To a BIG city in the U.S. We've never been there.  Jazz.  Museums.  Food.  Hipster hotel.  Just about a month from now.  To do this - which may seem like nothing at all to most people - is so huge for me.  

Of course at it's heart this trip is - a plan.  And me being me, I couldn't help myself so have made notes about some things we saw in the Big City that we may want to do.  But we don't have to do them; we will take it as it comes, try new things for 4 days, and just let the days unfold.

I really am quite giddy.  This is a new beginning for me.  One that has been a long time in coming.  The Oracle is so patient with me and so pleased.  And that alone makes me very happy.

Of Words, Words, Words

Among the many things I am intrigued by is poetry, specifically the art of the Haiku. As defined by the Poetry Foundation, Haiku is:

A Japanese verse form most often composed, in English versions, of three un-rhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables. A haiku often features an image, or a pair of images, meant to depict the essence of a specific moment in time.

Sounds simple, yes?

In fact it is far from it. Haiku writing involves multiple senses to interpret a thought or feeling using the verse form prescribed. You must live in the moment and look inside the moment from outside of it. Be in 2 places at once while you are trying to just...be.

And yet when inspiration strikes it is just lovely to write the words that pour forth like water flowing over rocks in a small stream.

Hmmm - those last 5 words sound like the start of a nice Haiku. 😄

I am no expert in this sacred form of poetry. Yet it is that very sacredness that draws me to it and brings the words out of the depths of me.

Of New Beginnings

How does one - begin again? Do you just jump in with both feet, fresh in the moment? Do you attempt to provide some kind of recap?

Does anyone care either way?

So...I shall just begin where I am right now. And let the rest fall away.

Fall...interesting choice of word. Because Fall - with the capital F - is my most favorite time of the year. Especially living in New England. I am fairly confident that the best Autumn on the planet takes place in this tiny corner of my beloved country.

For 56 years now I have anticipated Autumn as soon as it is over; no other time of year captures my heart and imagination quite like the change from Summer to Fall. During the dreaded Summer I can usually be found with my head down in an air conditioned space; just waiting for the moment when that crisp breeze moves in signaling that the seasonal change is upon us once again.

That breeze with its sharp edge. Not a hint but rather a full shove into your entire body. When the air clears and you can take a deep breath and feel only the air in your lungs. That great gift of life.

And while many may see Autumn as the time of year when things die...I see it as the time of year when rebirth begins to take shape. The leaves falling represent the trees getting ready to burst forth once again in vibrant, joyous life.

The fact that the cold and dark days of winter are just around the corner - is just a tiny, insignificant detail.