New Year, Same Crippling Anxieties!

Happy 2022! Or is it 2020, too? The years really do zip by faster the more years lived, a smaller percentage of the whole. I can barely keep up with it all.

As this beautiful blue marble orbits the sun once more, I’m more aware of the immoveable burden resting on my heart than ever before. It has been sitting on my chest for quite some time, and I am making peace with the fact that it will most likely stay with me for all of my years, however many they may be. As long as I am conscious, I will be pondering the ethical questions surrounding motherhood and childbirth in a time when we are working too far slowly to change our disastrous planetary trajectory.

The fact remains that I am selfish. I have to repeat that fact to myself every time I feel the baby fever rise and imagine Jack and I welcoming a new soul into our lives, a tiny baby bundle of joy, the living embodiment of a love and a soul-bond that I know will never die. “I want to be a mother.” What a weak, selfish justification. Frankly, I don’t know that my child would want to live on this dying planet. And even if there were more reasons to be optimistic about the future, like the advent of safe nuclear fusion (check out MIT’s most recent work using super magnets to contain a nuclear fusion reaction), or the widespread rebuilding of our electrical grid so that it is thoroughly decarbonized, the fact remains that no one is born with consent. The fact remains that, even though I fruitlessly engage with climate deniers and try to get my message of action and collaboration out to as many people as possible, I am not making any headway and I probably never will. And even if I were successful, that doesn’t mean I’m at all worthy of propagating my genes to the next generation. There is nothing particularly special about me. I would simply be contributing to overpopulation.

I sit in an interesting position where most of my female friends and acquaintances either do not want to procreate, or are undecided. Of my six bridesmaids, four definitively do NOT want children (not even to adopt), one is on the fence, and one definitely does want to give birth. If I take a more expansive look at my friend circle, this ratio evens out a bit, but more people still skew toward the childless lifestyle. There are plenty more years ahead for the future to be remade, but looking at this current assemblage of people closest to me, it seems we’ll be aging out quietly, with no noise or chaos of small humans growing to adulthood and fulfilling the important roles we will grow too old to continue carrying out. It makes me sad to think about it, but it makes me guilty for wanting to bring in children of my own just to assuage my generational loneliness. I am selfish, I am selfish, I am selfish.

What can I possibly do to make the world more livable, more cooperative, and more sustainable? I write, I volunteer, I work a position that actively tries to safeguard the environment and the natural resources we need most: water, clean air, biomass in all its many forms. My professional life is dedicated to the cause as is my spare time, my personal choices, and my private internal struggles. And it really doesn’t matter how much effort I put into serving other people today and serving future generations tomorrow. I am selfish at the root of it all. I want to carry Jack’s children in my womb, birth them and meet them Earth-side, watch them grow, give them guidance, love, and affection. But there will be no guarantee of safety, or even a guarantee of access to drinkable water come 2050, especially if we’re still living in the arid west. I can willingly give my life over to my offspring, but I cannot give them an entirely new planet, one undamaged by extractive capitalism and overconsumption. Biosphere 2 demonstrated that the extent of human ingenuity is limited, and that we are too unsophisticated to reproduce something as complex as Earth. We are killing our only home, spreading and consuming like locusts. It’s hypocritical for me to want to continue populating a system that cannot provide for all of us, especially since I very well know better.

I recently re-watched Titanic. Wow, what a film. I personally love it and think it held up quite impressively in the 25 years since its release in 1997. It hit especially hard this time, comparing the disaster to climate change. Our Earth ship is sinking and there are still so many loud, violent, obnoxious (in my personal experience) MEN who are clinging to the railing as the icy water washes over the deck screaming that it’s a pleasant voyage and that everyone trying to avoid a watery grave is a brainwashed idiot. There is no convincing them to be a part of the solution. There is no releasing them of their own fear and emotional immaturity. They staunchly insist they are correct in the face of the very real, overwhelming evidence unfolding before our eyes that no, Earth is not okay. Species are dying orders of magnitude faster than the normal background extinction rate documented in the geologic record. But sure, go off on how I’m a demonic liberal (haha) for daring to use the phrase “climate change denier”. I think “ecocidal future-child murderer” is more accurate. It is significantly more harsh, sure, but drives the point home that their factual incorrectness is costing the lives of all humans who will inherit an overheated, utterly cooked planet. Their decision to repeatedly, shamelessly lie is morally reprehensible. Lying is a choice, not a personality trait, and certainly not a birth defect. I have zero qualms about verbally lambasting these liars. If they don’t want to help bail water, fine. But the least they can do is stand off to the side out of everyone’s way.

These posts really are just an opportunity for me to shout into the void and to vocalize my existential dread. I cry at the drop of a hat. These first three weeks of 2022 have been especially rough for my mental health and even though I show up to work every day, even though I teach my dance classes at night, and volunteer at the fire department, and most recently appeared as a guest speaker on The Everything Else Show with Martin Willis to discuss my message of climate action (while we still have time to act), I feel like none of it matters. None of it amounts to the changes we so desperately need to make as a species. I believe in ripple effects, absolutely, but I am a weak, limited, emotionally fragile woman who will likely worry herself to an early grave. Perhaps I will survive longer than I give myself credit for. It is, after all, written into our very DNA as living creatures that we strive to survive for as long as possible. The ship is sinking, but we’re still trying to avoid the water at all costs, to avoid slipping into the freezing North Atlantic. Refusing to live in the face of certain devastation is not the answer. The answer is to alter the way in which we produce energy. And even though it’s a simple answer, there is no political will or emotional fortitude to accomplish such a change. Any attempt made to alter viewpoints is met with hostility and vitriol, even as the threat looms right in our faces. We cannot work together even to defeat a common enemy. It breaks my heart. It breaks my brain. It saps my energy. I give and give and somehow my cup refills enough for me to make it through the day over and over, but it accomplishes nothing. I accomplish next to nothing.

I suppose it’s unfair to title this post “New Year, Same Crippling Anxieties!” I am not crippled. I still function. I have a support network where many people have no one and nothing to lean on. It is, once again, my privilege that allows me to take time out of my schedule to write these pointless posts. My words convince no one and largely go unread, but here I am, back on my bullshit, talking about my feelings to no one but a glowing computer screen. And even that’s not true. Jack listens to my dread and my anger, holds me when I cry, kisses away the rage and despair. I often pick up my phone and am able to call any number of my closest friends, and always they open their heart to me and lend their undistracted ears. Even though my very worth as a human feels tenuous at best, I have so many people that I love who love me right back. I live for them, I live for my two dogs, I live for the hope of a brighter day when we take longer, stronger strides toward solutions that benefit the greatest number of people in a time when severe weather events become more frequent and destructive. If everyone took it upon themselves to relentlessly speak up about the greatest threat to our existence, perhaps we might have a shot at reversing our actions and stabilizing the atmosphere. We each hold the agency needed to choose a decarbonized lifestyle and work toward passing down this beautiful home to our children and grandchildren. Every voice matters, no matter how small or timid, no matter how broken and raw. I am largely useless in the face of it all, but I will roar (or perhaps I’m just screaming) until I draw my last breath.

It’s Rather Crucial I Express Some Gratitude

Our house still stands, but much of Trinity County continues to burn in the Monument Fire and River Complex. Lots of folks are evacuated and have lost their homes. We count our blessings and are grateful to have been spared thus far. I’m still on edge, but am trying to make the most of the time given, to enjoy every day where the air quality allows for outdoor recreation. I’m reading, writing, going about my work, and generally replicating normality as much as possible. It gets me through the day.

Two weekends ago (August 27-30), Jack and I attended my sister’s wedding to her now-husband and our brother-in-law. Kate and Alex. At long last. I happy-cried throughout the entire ceremony. Kate had wanted to surprise our parents with our unannounced, unexpected attendance, and after a year-and-a-half of no face-to-face interaction with my family, I burst into tears the moment I saw my mother and father round the corner to the newly refurbished, beautifully decorated, and adorned patio on the backyard.

After a long, slow burn and a heated spat during the height of (the most recent) political tensions in this country (roughly 11/04/2020-01/27/2021), I hadn’t talked to my parents as much as I used to before everything changed. I apologized for what I’d said to both of them. They apologized for things they had misunderstood or misinterpreted. We made the kind of patchy peace one can only make over the phone and without a true, teary apology and warm, generous hug.

To hold them and thank them, kiss their cheeks and say, “I’m sorry for what I said when I was angry. You are a wonderful mother and a wonderful father. I’m so happy to see you and love you both forever. Thank you for everything.” was just the soul-nourishment I needed. They are such exemplary parents, dedicated teammates who put in their full, best effort every single day, year after year, into the success of their daughters and the betterment of their futures. Not to mention, they helped a lot of other people through the nature of their multi-decade careers (a surgeon and medical social worker). Both of my parents worked rigorously to help those in crises and those in medical jeopardy. Although I didn’t take after their line of work, I admire them endlessly.

It was pure magic to see my sister in white, a gold forest crown on her head, at long last marrying her boyfriend of 5 years, fiancé of 2, and now husband. It was thrilling to see them wearing their wedding bands, beaming at each other in their renovated new home. Their ranch-style house looks entirely their own, stylish and modern, with very subtle nods to former decorative accents. They’ve been pouring in their time and labor to repaint the walls and replace the floors. It already looks like a brand new home from what I saw in early January 2020. There were white tulle curtains as a backdrop for the ceremony, blowing gently in the breeze wafting through the backyard. Ivy covered the columns. Bouquets were scattered about the patio, paper flowers up on the far wall, party lights strung along the perimeter. It was enchanting. After living in arid California this summer, I relished the humidity and coolness of Massachusetts. Everything about the visit was exactly what I needed.

Jack and I zipped down to Cape Cod with my parents after the ceremony and reception. We realized we were there on a Saturday night and rallied for a few hours of dancing and fancy cocktails on Main Street in historic downtown Hyannis. We slept for a few hours, and then drove to western Massachusetts to help determine which of my accumulated items needed to be donated, thrown away, or packed up and shipped out. (My parents just sold their house in Pittsfield). With help from my dad, my aunt, and Jack the Most Amazing Husband of All Time, we organized my entire lifetime, from childhood to the present day, into distinct piles each bound for a different fate. That same day, we returned to my sister’s house, slept, and flew out that Monday. Phew!

But wait, there’s more!

This past weekend (September 3-7) I went on the most amazing visit to the Adirondacks with my friends from Boston University and beyond for a joint bachelorette party! Priyanka, Kelsee, and Hash planned a full, weekend-long bash for me and Riya to celebrate our upcoming weddings! Also in attendance were my college friend, Mary, and Riya’s friend from six years ago, Drashti.

We traveled from Boston to Wilmington, NY (just east of Lake Placid) in a giant, black, GMC Yukon XL where six of us (Mary met us at the AirBnB) could stretch out luxuriously and enjoy the road trip. Upon our arrival, Pri, Hash, and Kelsee sent me, Riya, Mary, and Drashti out to picnic by the lake. We did so gladly, enjoying the mirror reflections of mountains towering above the smooth water, and when we returned, there were balloons, sparkles, shimmering curtains, and bright ribbon curls everywhere! It was the perfect party background in a cozy, quintessential upstate New York cabin. We ate fresh, homemade veggie tacos, played trivia- and card-based drinking games, and ended the first day with hot-tubbing.

The next morning began with a brunch of French toast, scrambled eggs, and berry salad. All but Pri went out for a two-hour nature walk through the forest and along the river. An impressive charcuterie board occupied our early afternoon, followed by champagne decorated with edible pink glitter (yes that is a real thing). Then we relaxed with face masks on and cucumbers over our eyes, painted our nails, prepared our hair and makeup, and hit the town of Lake Placid in our cutest outfits. We had dinner at a delicious Italian restaurant and took fruity, pink celebratory shots with our waiter. When we returned to our cabin, we had a campfire and admired the stars before bed.

We made a cute video wherein Riya and I wore our white, Bride t-shirts and our friends wore their respective burgundy, Team Bride t-shirts. We were well-fed, pampered, celebrated, and elevated to a level of pure bliss and appreciation. I am so thankful to have such thoughtful, kind, cooperative, visionary, dream-achieving friends. They went to extraordinary lengths to make this an unforgettable, fun, life-changing, friendship-building, celebratory rite of passage weekend. We even increased the size of our girl squad with two new, lifelong members! I will forever cherish the jokes, the laughs, the shared views, the deep conversations, and the opening of hearts from that weekend.

To know that I have such spectacular people in my life, my blood family and my chosen family, to know that the Universe deemed me worthy to have made these friends, is the best feeling in the world. I wish I could describe it better, having the gall to call myself a writer. It’s a deep catharsis, a massive sweeping feeling that you can feel throughout your body that indicates to your subconscious, “Everything will be okay; you have people who have your back and want you to make it through.” It’s a calming tonic, like floating in water, reassured that wherever the current takes you, there will be familiar faces and friendly companions along the way.

Weddings and pre-wedding celebrations are some of my favorite rites of passage in our western society. I love worshipping love, celebrating every instance of two humans committing to each other for all of their Earthly days. It opens up a well of happiness that, as most of my emotions are, is attached to my tear ducts. After a confusing, tumultuous, challenging 18 months or so, it was a miraculous gift to return somewhat to the “before times” to see friends and family, to hold hands and wrap our arms around each other. I love all forms of love, romantic, platonic, and familial. To have enjoyed the abundance of all forms was the best reminder that there are always better, brighter days to look forward to. Love, to me, has always been the entire point of life: to uphold it and cherish it, to nurture and grow it. Love, love, love. To the end of days.