Day of Birth

It's my son's 29th birthday today, so that means 30 years ago, I was busy in a way that was entirely new to me and was never repeated. His birth opened a door to a life I am so glad to have put my faith into. What a leap!

I think my major concern was that I was kind of a selfish person, and at 39 I thought maybe that wouldn't change enough to allow me to be a good parent. I learned some new things about that selfishness that made it much less of a problem, one being that it could translate into focus and fierceness and those had their uses. I am finding now that being on the obsessional side of commitment makes me dependable and powerful. I do my homework! I remember that while siting and nursing I would completely plan the next interval of my day, week, or however far ahead of myself I could get (sometimes an hour, as I remember) and I was never so organized. Had to do it without making a list, so I could still gaze lovingly at my baby and at least try to convince him that all our needs would be met.

And I am an A student, still, as I was in school. For whatever reasons (not all functionally postive I suppose) I want to do a good job and although the energy levels of being 68 have eroded some of that possibility, I have had to be organized and learn how to prioritize and compartmentalize and those skills have been essential. The whole time I was raising him I was running what was once a large business, then a sole-proprietorship, and also re-building a house that turned 100 in 2016. And mostly selling at Market, though I admit I left the governance to others during that time. I was still paying attention, but there were plenty of volunteers and the days of Bill and Beth were good ones. Good as they always are, if a bit of a thrill ride at times.

I came back to volunteering in 2007 or so when my son was out of school and I could drop my 4J jobs and volunteering there. Since he was my priority then, I worked more at his school than at the Market. Still did the Fair, still did the HM, but had to do things like tear out lath and plaster on the weekends. Those were some days. You generally get a lot done in your 40's, if I am typical.

I'm doing a task right now that is confidential and because of that, kind of isolating at this point. It's homework, though, and I have dug in and made my outlines and study questions and I think my process is fairly sound. I had not expected to do this task and it has brought some sleepless nights but overall I believe I may just be the perfect person to have in this particular room, so that's the good part. It's only one corner of a much bigger picture, so I'm channeling Vi with her patiently repeated "All Will Be Well" and "Things are Unfolding As They Should," and just keeping myself applied to the tasks. I wish I could discuss it.

I don't know how people live who have to keep a lot of secrets and discretion in their lives. This is an evolving skill set for me. I got the base stuff as a child about how to be polite and know when to use the less-than-complete truth and through further study began to get a handle on how to not make everything about me, but I am used to being able to do a lot of processing of emotions and I have spent a long time journaling this week. In the scenario that someone will want to research and document my life at some point (which is not a real scenario, it's that of some kind of fabulist) this will be a rich volume of my journal collection. In the reality we are actually living in, this journal will be one of the first that will have to go into the burn barrel.

No one is going to want to read page after page of "(Date, day of week:) Mood: Anxious." If I don't start out with it I soon get to it. I took some time off yesterday to clean house and ended up working on the archives (I'm archiving 50 years of the Saturday Market, if I haven't mentioned that.) and that was pretty fun, as it always is when I dive into those newsletters and minutes books. it helped lessen the anxiety somewhat and provided some perspective. Fifty years. Starting in 1970, when I was 20. I have an essay in mind about the parallels.

Our history is rich, and surprising, but I am not sure how much I will be able to actually tell. Archie Weinstein is gone but Jerry Rust might have some corrections for me. Sometimes the newsletter contains a political analysis, in those early days, that is apt, radically honest, and not exactly complimentary to any of the principals.  We had some firebrands, and some haven't changed much, but there is no narrative that completely captures the deep and site-based culture of our Market community. I will try to weave the narratives and display the nuanced and nubby fabric.

It's too early to publicly announce but you 22 readers can know that we got a little grant support for this archiving project, so I am fully committed now to this unpaid part-time job. The grant monies are not for me but for the project costs. I took on this job because I wanted it to be done by someone who is an A student and who does their homework, and while I am not the only one, I know I am dependable. Single motherhood proved that for sure. Building the house that is now filled with these archives, being a Market member and volunteer for 44 years, being a good daughter and sister: all of these huge accomplishments tell me I can do this.

I trust that other people will help me do these things with style and accuracy. I trust process, and I trust a large variety of people, who while undoubtedly are generally acting in their own self-interest, also have the wherewithal to see beyond that to the common good, to which I hope we are all dedicated.

Yeah, I feel guilty that I didn't march, but I can only take so much on at a time. This weekend is for study, sorting, planning, and figuring out where those pain points and plus points will be, so I can navigate 2019 and live up to these commitments.

And I didn't even get to talking about Jell-O Art yet. It's in progress. The only reason it isn't overwhelming is that it's pure fun and will be the comic relief to all the serious work I am and will be doing. Save the date: March 30th, from 5-8 pm. Our mode is to tune into the zeitgeist and come up with something just like Jell-O: melts in your hand and your mouth, ooozes all over your best dress, slides off the plate on the way to the table, and despite its perfectly magical clarity, brilliance and splendidly gorgeous colors, disappears almost immediately. And, it's anxiety-free.