Another one of my favorite “wastes of time” these days is the TV show Ted Lasso.
When I saw my Primary Care Doctor recently, she told me she’s watched both seasons of Ted Lasso many times and how that’s been helping her get through the pandemic. I completely trust my doctor, so I’m taking that TV Rx and I’m loving it.
I’ve been thinking a great deal about eye contact lately, and not just because of the Daily Bitch Calendar for today.
Most of the eye contact I’ve been making for almost two years has been through Zoom-like online platforms, and I know I’m not alone in that.
Last night — when my eyes were making contact with many things besides sleep — I was noticing that some of my memories of meetings and groups I was in before the pandemic are being transformed into Zoom meetings in my head. It’s as if I can’t quite remember what it’s like to be in a room with people, and my mind is filling in details based on recent memories.
If we were face to face right now, perhaps you might be avoiding eye contact with me because of that previous paragraph.
Do you notice eye contact in any of my other images for today?
Here’s what I find on YouTube when I search for “eye contact”:
It’s a new year and how new is it really? Is there anything really new under the sun or, for that matter, under the moon?
How new is it, really, when I ask a question like this one?
How new is it really that I would share a great answer to a question I ask?
How new is it really that I go for walks and take these kinds of photos?
How new is it really that I would ask a last question for the day on Twitter or share today’s National Days? How new is it really that I’m thinking of buying cream puffs when we go food shopping later?
This new-to-me (but perhaps not new to you) video comes up when I search YouTube for “how new is it really?” …
Last night — to get some closure for 2021 while moving on to 2022 — I asked this question on Twitter:
This was a rather controversial question — some people objected to the concept of closure as a possibility or even as a helpful concept. As long as we have pain and memory, how can we truly get closure?
Recognizing that there is no perfect or complete closure, I had actually rewritten that question many times before posting it. Here are some other versions of the question that I considered:
What helps you get good-enough closure to move on to the next thing?
What helps you move on to the next thing?
What helps you move on?
That last one was simpler (and brevity can be the soul of wit), but those other versions didn’t really capture what I was trying to express for the end of one year and the beginning of another. I also considered using the term “radical acceptance” instead of “closure.”
I settled on the question I posted because I, personally, do feel some need for closure before moving on to the next thing. For example, I feel the need today to acknowledge the end of my 9th year of this daily blog, thus moving on to my 10th (way beyond my expectations when I started this on 1/1/13).
In my therapy groups, I give people the room to get a good enough sense of closure before we end the session. Since 2020, I’ve been pointing out in these groups that the lack of closure about the pandemic is incredibly stressful, so that getting some measure of closure about anything can be helpful and healing.
Closure, in my mind, is neither tidy nor final. For those of us dealing with trauma or grief, we will never lose the memories or be totally free of the pain of the losses.
I think of closure as putting the period on the end of a sentence before moving on to the next one. Doing that neither wipes out nor reduces the importance and power of the previous sentences. And I do believe that we can benefit from those “periods” — otherwise life can feel like a run-on sentence with little room to breath, pause, and get some measure of peace.
Do you see any closure and/or moving on in my other images for today?
I need to get some measure of closure about the death of Betty White yesterday, so here’s a tribute to her:
Expressing gratitude at the end of every blog post allows me to get the closure I need to move on, so thanks to Betty White and to all who are here, now, including YOU.
the next step to repair the damage to our home caused by a leak in the upstairs shower,
an in-person appointment with my Primary Care Physician on Thursday,
an appointment with a veterinarian on Friday to find out if Joan’s ear infections have come back,
information on how to deal with food allergies if Joan’s ear infections have come back,
a decision about what song I should sing Friday evening for my first open mic in months (candidates include a new original song and a Sondheim song),
Christmas and New Year,
finding out where my son will be attending a PhD program in mathematics next year,
the end of the pandemic,
justice for all, and
your thoughts and feelings about the contents of today’s post.
I’m also waiting for inspiration to finish my latest original song — “Spoiler Alert” — which includes rhymes like toxicity, authenticity, and epiphany. Here’s a Sondheim tune I might sing on Friday instead of “Spoiler Alert”:
Now, of course, I’m waiting for your comments.
If you’re waiting for my thanks to you, wait no longer!