Why I'm Quitting Politics (Sort Of)

Cropped from original

In 2016 I worked my ass off for Hillary (mostly phone banking and canvassing), in 2020 I did what I was able to for Joe (text banking), and in 2024 I did what I was able to for Kamala (text banking, postcard writing, and a bit of phone banking). 

But on November 6 of this year, I realized something I probably should have realized a long time ago. What follows is a slightly edited version of something I posted in the Slack for Vote Save America, the organization I volunteered through during this election:

While our societal problems clearly show up in our politics, as of today I no longer believe...that terrible political outcomes are solved by different or better politics, at least not anymore in this country. Hillary and Kamala both had, in my humble opinion, vastly better politics—better policies, better campaigns, better enthusiasm, etc....and in the end, none of that mattered.

Now, let me be clear: What we (humans, Americans) do in politics matters for sure. What we (VSA) did in this race mattered, and we should all take pride that we fought like hell to try to effect what we believed would be the right outcome.

But it's like treating the symptom and not treating the disease causing the symptom. I mean, how many times have "we" said...hell, how many times have l said that Tump's ascendancy was a symptom? To use another analogy, if the masses hadn't liked what he was selling, he'd never have gained a large enough following to make a real difference. 

On what his rise is a symptom of exactly, much has already been written. And I think we all could articulate some of those reasons. (And I don't just mean, for example, racism! But also: certain groups being ignored by one or both parties/by the government as a whole, being lied to all the time by the right-wing media universe, the system being corrupted by dark money/gerrymandering/lobbying, etc., etc.)

But the kind of politics we end up with rises out of the kind of culture we have, so...there are layers underneath even all of the above. What about human dignity, respect, kindness, empathy, compassion, the greater good? Those concepts aren't just pretty words to me. They're in my heart. I care about people...or I wouldn't be here.

Humans are neurobiologically hard-wired for connection (source: Brené Brown), meaning humans need other humans to survive and to thrive. (And as a VSA friend shared, "David Graeber & David Wengrow's The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity basically upends the 'survival of the fittest' [which in itself is a gross reduction of what Darwin was saying] idea of human history to one that, essentially, says the only ways humans were able to survive and thrive was through cooperation & collaboration more than competition. So aside from Brené Brown citing our hard-wired-ness for connection, add also the first 2 Cs I listed ^ to innate human characteristics.")

So when Kamala says, "The vast majority of us have more in common than what separates us," I think...we actually all do. It's a fact of being human. And a hyper focus by some on the differences do not make those differences any larger than they really are. 

All of that means we have to figure out how to get along (better) or...face an existential threat.

Which leads me to this: I've decided that for the foreseeable future, I can't do political volunteering anymore. At least not of the trying-to-persuade-other-voters variety. 

This does not mean I won't still be trying to make the world a better place; it's just that I believe I need to start going about it in different ways. I don't know what that'll look like yet. I just know...it'll be something deeper.

Falling Into Body Love, Part 3

I didn't expect there to be a part 3 to this story (here are part 1 and part 2), but recently, I discovered almost by accident that a few weeks prior, Lindy West had been a guest on Dr. Sanjay Gupta's podcast Chasing Life. As far as I'm concerned, that alone makes it an immediate must-listen. But I also love the episode's title, Lindy West on what we’re getting wrong about weight.

Source: screenshot from cnn.com

Lindy is probably best known as the author of the memoir Shrill: Notes From a Loud Woman and therefore as the woman that the main character of Hulu's series Shrill is based on. But she also gained a fair amount of notoriety when, back in 2011, she wrote an essay (that eventually led to her writing the memoir) called Hello, I am Fat, which is well worth reading if you haven't already. So Lindy is basically known for being an unapologetic fat person—and an unapologetic fat acceptance/fat liberation person. 

The very fact that a mainstream, Western-medicine-educated, and famous doctor would have her on his podcast is significant. (For the thin people reading this: Western medicine is not exactly known for its friendliness to fat people.) 

Not only that, Dr. Gupta even said that their conversation was "really touching" and "challenged some of my own thinking." 

He also said, "She taught me a lot about what it looks like to show empathy and kindness no matter anyone's size." I plan to write more about that in a future post.

Also significant—in fact, it was the moment in the episode that thrilled me the most—was when Lindy shared some neuroscience that she had heard about online: 

When you speak negatively to yourself, your nervous system interprets that as a threat [Dr. Gupta vocalized agreement here] and kind of shuts down as a threat response and makes it impossible to make any changes in your thinking or in your life...it sort of slams this wall down between you and the ability to change [Dr. Gupta: "yeah"]. And so if you do wanna change your life, if you wanna change your body, if you wanna, you know, change the way that you think about yourself, the only path to doing that is to start from thinking kind things about yourself and being kind to yourself and that self criticism and being cruel to yourself will never actually lead to change....

Dr. Gupta responded, "I think they got it right so far, what I'm hearing; I agree with that."

When I heard that, I thought, "This confirms my whole approach!" I detailed this in part 2, but weeks before, I had begun what I call a body love practice—without knowing whether it was doing or would do any real good. I just figured it could not hurt...and then a few weeks into it, I encountered this episode. Wow. I am so grateful for this confirmation from the universe.

There's a lot more good stuff in this episode; I hope you'll give it a listen.

Falling Into Body Love, Part 2

(Source)

In Part 1 I talked about how (oddly through falling off a staircase) I had a body positivity epiphany. That epiphany, essentially, was that rather than trying (or more precisely, continuing to try—unsuccessfully, no less) to convince myself to love its appearance, I can shift the focus entirely from what it looks like to what it does for me.

Because, let's face it: For over 54 years so far, my body (on the positive side of the equation) has, among other things:

• Housed my spirit
• Allowed me to experience this life
• Carried me through the world
• Sustained me through everything I've been through
• Facilitated relating to many wonderful people

...and of course much more. 

(And to think—for the vast majority of that time, I accepted the bullshit messages society [and, not for nothing, some cruel people at times] sent its way—and added some of my own. But...I know that kind of conditioning sinks its teeth into us early and is relentless, so ultimately I can forgive myself for falling prey to it. I mean, who escapes it, really?)

Anyway, all of the above is no small thing. It deserves to be acknowledged and appreciated.

And as I said in part 1, I knew I wanted to make this epiphany into a practice. It's too significant to leave to a one-time experience in C's office. Thankfully it didn't take long for me to realize what I wanted to do to accomplish that.

So now, almost daily, I place my hands on my belly, then on my chest, and sometimes other places, and at each place, I say aloud, "Thank you" and "I love you." (For a while I started each time with, "I'm sorry." Because of course, I am sorry for everything on the negative side of the equation that it's had to endure. But going forward with this practice, I'm focusing on gratitude and love.)

Does it feel weird to talk to my body? Yeah, sometime it does. Does it feel weird to tell it, "I love you"? For sure. But I'd rather feel a little weird telling my body I love it than continuing to treat it like crap. I and my body deserve so much better than that.

Do I know whether this is actually doing or will do anything for me? At this point it's really too soon to tell, but I figure it's gotta be better than feeding it ever more shit.

And so now, when I say that I love my body, I do not mean I am thrilled with its appearance. I mean: I am practicing being loving toward my body. I am valuing appreciating it over shallowly criticizing or praising it either one. What my body is (the home for my soul) and what it does for me far, far outweigh both its appearance and how much that appearance meets or fails to meet society's beauty standards. Which are hyper-narrow, ever-changing cultural constructs anyway.

One may consider my body love practice, in addition to an act of self love, to be an act of resistance.

Because it is.

Here's Part 3.

Falling Into Body Love, Part 1

Not H's staircase. Though its layout is the same as H's.
(Source: PC Photography / iStock / Getty Images Plus / Getty Images via angi.com)

The first thing you need to know is: I am fine.

And I'm telling you that because a couple weeks ago, while at my friend H's house, I slipped and fell off the last two steps on my way back down from the bathroom. Like the staircase in the above photo, a) H's turns 90 degrees at the bottom, and b) the railing ends with a large newell post above the bottom two steps. So I wasn't holding onto anything while on the 2nd-to-last step.

Unlike the staircase in the photo, H's does not have carpeting. And the flimsy knee-high nylons on my feet made it all too easy to slip on the wooden step. (I'd removed my shoes right after I entered, to honor the request for same that's affixed to her front door.) 

As I was falling, I put out my (left) hand to break my fall. As a result, the "heel" of my hand swelled up a bit and began showing a little bruising. Fortunately, the pain was not unbearable, I put ice on it right away, and nothing was broken.

Two days later, I saw my therapist, C. I told him about the fall just by way of sharing. He said that falls can be "a lot, somatically," and he used it as a starting point to see what we could discover in terms what was happening with my body. (I'm getting a type of therapy called somatic experiencing, which is "a body-oriented approach to healing trauma and other stress disorders" [source]).

We realized that when I fell, I had put my hand out instinctually, to protect my core and my head. My hand took the brunt of the fall, against the wooden floor.

At one point he asked me what would it be like if I thanked my hand for protecting me. I didn't say anything for a bit because the prospect of thanking my hand aloud felt weird. But he didn't comment on the fact that I wasn't saying anything. I was thinking the "thank you," though. 

And in that moment, tears came, quite unexpectedly. I didn't know where they were coming from, but also in that moment, I realized that throughout my life, society, other people (socially), and even I had given my body a lot of shit (mostly for what it does—and does not—look like). However, my body has always been there for me. And—I can thank it for being there for me. 

This might be the best kind of body positivity. In other words, rather than thinking my way into loving what my body looks like or even putting undue focus on that at all, I can thank my body for doing what it does for me and for what it continues to do for me every moment of my life. C asserted that my body is not judging me for judging it. It is there for me regardless. Which is such a lovely thought.

Side note: I'm so excited that something that felt (mostly) good while it was happening, that was noticeable, that's even memorable and actionable happened in a session. (There've been too many therapy sessions—mostly before C—where that wasn't true.) I'm even motivated to make it actionable. Who even am I right now?!?

Anyway, I knew immediately that I'd want to make this epiphany into a practice. I know from experience that if I didn't make it a practice, the epiphany would recede into my memory, and I'd never actually gain much from it. 

More on that in Part 2.

#ConniesYearOfSelfCare2019: Part 1

I can't remember the moment when I began thinking about making this my theme for 2019. I just know I started thinking about it sometime before the start of the new year, and then, on January 1st, I made this graphic and changed my Facebook cover photo to it. I do remember realizing that at the very least, I needed to be taking a lot better care of myself than I presently do.

The fact that I turn 50 in less than 6 months could also have something to do with it.... ;)

Then there's always the chronic conditions that are the bane of my existence, namely depression, low energy, and acid reflux, to name the top three. They will get none better (and indeed will probably get worse) if I simply maintain the status quo.

Anyway, I'm sharing this journey as much to help keep it top of mind as anything else. Because I know from too much experience how difficult it can be to see something through that you start in January. So I figured writing about it could be a way to make it more of a 'thing.'

* * * *

The fact that it's a theme and not a resolution is very much on purpose. As I alluded to above, I've done the set-a-resolution-with-too-little-follow-through thing before. (Yeah, not fun when you realize later how poorly a resolution you'd set turned out.) Enough so that for a few years there, I stopped making resolutions and I think for some of those years, didn't even try to think about changing anything in particular. Even though a lot needs to be changed.

* * * *

The beautiful thing is that after only a little over two weeks into the new year, I've realized a few things that feel significant.

First, it dawned on me that I didn't have to figure out the "one right thing" to work on or habit to try to implement or whatever...on or before January 1. I could take some time to figure out what better self care will look like for me in 2019. So...I'm giving myself time to figure it out. I'm letting it be OK that I don't have the entire set of definitive answers—yet.

I think part of my follow-through problems in the past (well, besides being not great at it generally, lol) was: the more I tied any resolution to the start of a new year, the more I told myself "I'm going to do X every day," the greater the chances, it seemed, that it would fail. I think it just created too much pressure.

Second, since I started using a self-care journal (second link below) and writing down whatever I'd done in a given day that seemed self-care-ish, I was able to realize: I'm doing more that fits into the self-care category than I'd realized, so it's not like everything is garbage...and maybe I need to cut myself a break. How's that for a revelation.

* * * *

The other brilliant (I thought ;) idea I had was to during January schedule as many of my self-care appointments for the year as possible. That way they're already set up and I don't have to worry about scheduling any more of them until next year. So—I now have one massage and reiki appointment each scheduled for every month in 2019. I still need to do the same for an eye doctor appointment and possibly a medical wellness check. I'm also giving acupuncture a real try, but I don't know how long I'll be getting it regularly because I don't know yet how much it's helping me. (It can have a cumulative effect, and I'm still waiting to see if enough good effect will accumulate to make it worth it.)

Here are some of the other things I've done so far to further my self care in 2019:

• Read The Self-Care Project by Jayne Hardy (founder and CEO of The Blurt Foundation, which provides support and resources to people with depression)
• Bought and began using this self-care journal (And by the way, I'm letting it be OK if I don't write in it every single day.)
• Divided up my supplements so I can begin taking them twice instead of once a day, for better results (sometimes, it's the little things...)
• Set a reading goal (of 24 books) for the year, finished the one I was reading when the new year started, read a second, started on a third (I joined a book club late last year, so I'm hopeful that will motivate me to choose reading over, say, Netflix more often than I did last year)

* * * *

So...that's where I'm at. Here's to the journey as it unfolds.

I Have to Believe It

Yes, that's me. Photo taken May 16, 2016, by Jessi Matthews.

This is going to be a really personal post. I haven't written a super-personal post in a long time; 'course I haven't written a post at all in a long time. But I need to get this out, and I'm sharing it because...well, it's what I do.

I had a reiki session for the first time tonight. At the beginning of the session, my reiki practitioner used a guided meditation to sort of lead me into it. For part of it, she said to picture myself in a very beautiful place and imagine that this place was just for me.

My mind immediately went to the Oregon coast, which so far I have visited twice, exactly a year apart. I know they were exactly a year apart because both times were on my birthday. The first of those times, my dear friend Jessi and I sat on a log on the sand and talked while we enjoyed the beauty. It was mostly overcast and a little chilly, but it was still beautiful.

Back to the guided meditation: This time I pictured myself there alone, just standing on the beach and enjoying what in my vision was now beautiful weather—warm and sunny, with the sun reflecting on the water, turning the view from beautiful to spectacular.

At this point in the reiki session, the guided meditation stopped, but I kept picturing myself there...as if I lived there, and one by one, other elements came into the picture. I know what was happening: I was envisioning my dream life. The other elements were all things I have dreamed about doing, having, being...but that haven't happened yet for a variety of reasons. (Some of them,...much to my grief.)

I'm walking along the beach because I have the energy to do that. My body looks more like I want it to than it does now. I'm throwing a frisbee to my dog. I'm joined by my loving partner. I have indeed found someone to grow old with. He loves me fiercely. And I him.When we go back to the house, we don't have to go far because it's right on the beach. (No one said my dream life would be cheap.) In the great room, there's a grand piano. (Again with the not-cheap.) I'm working toward entering the [Van] Cliburn International Amateur Piano Competition. This is a house that I've decorated myself because I have the energy to do that. We host lovely dinner parties because I actually do want to be the hostess sometimes. I am as "domestic" as I feel like being because I have the energy to do things I feel like doing. (Are you sensing a theme yet?) I have a job that I love. I do volunteer work that helps people and that I find meaningful. I have a part-time (at least) singing career because...well, that is my truest passion.

Back to the present for a moment: I think many people in my life think that my biggest passion is English—grammar, writing...because I talk/post about that rather frequently. And I'm not un-passionate about that. But ever since my college days, ironically after I stopped being a music major ("piano performance emphasis"), a love for singing like I'd never known awakened (even though I'd been in various choirs for several years by that point). And singing does bring me a kind of joy that nothing else does. Most of the time though, (when I'm not in one of the handful of choirs I've been in since that time) I don't generally sing. It's odd. But I think it's because emotionally,...I'm not usually in a place to even want to sing. Like, it doesn't even occur to me. In case it sounds weird to you that I wouldn't want to do something that brings me joy...that's called deep depression, my friend.

I'm suddenly realizing, with all of this talk of what my true passion is and of how much I have not yet self-actualized...that I am still, however unintentionally, suppressing my true self. Daaamn. Now if only bringing my true self to the fore were as easy as it had been the first time (moving out of my parents' house and going to college).

Because now the challenge is to believe that I can have that kind of life—or at least that I can make many of those elements a reality.

Which brings me back to my vision. The phrase that popped into my head and just kept recurring to me was: "I have to believe it."

Because right now,...I don't. That's the bare truth of it.

The cultural narrative of "you just have to believe in yourself" and "well, you have to have hope" is strong enough that I almost feel ashamed to admit this. But if you'd had a life filled almost entirely (so far) with heartbreak, how would you feel?

So tonight that's where I'm at. Knowing I need to believe in a better future for myself. And not yet being sure of how to do that—or even that I won't resist any effort in that direction. (My cynicism runs deep, yo.)

Never has the phrase "hoping against hope" meant so much to me.

I just know that if I actively believe it won't happen, then it very likely won't.

I'm also realizing...I have to make it happen. *sigh* And we're right back to...that'll happen someday when I have the energy for it. There's that theme again.

So what I actually have hope in right now are the mind/body practices I've been trying lately—namely, reiki, massage, trauma releasing exercises, yoga. Because getting my body to work better has to be step one. And they are showing promise in that regard.

So...current state: Staying the course.

10 Things in 10 Years

September 4 was the 10th anniversary of Ron's death. Earlier this year, for International Widows Day (held annually on June 23), Soaring Spirits International asked members of its community to submit a story of something they'd accomplished post-loss that they were proud of or had never thought they'd do. And on that day, Soaring Spirits periodically shared these stories on its Facebook page as a way to celebrate widows' amazing spirits and to inspire others.

My first thought on hearing about this (and the only one for quite a while) was, "I haven't done ANYthing yet that I didn't think I'd do!" Only after pondering for a while did I realize a couple of things that did, in fact, fit that description. And in the meantime, I've thought of several other things that do as well. Why didn't I think of any of these things right off the bat? I think it's because my list of "want to's" in life is so long, and I haven't had the energy to do so many of them, that that's the first thing I think when I encounter this question. I guess in the future I'll just have to try to remember the following list. And now, without further ado, here are 10 things I've done in 10 years that, if you'd told me right after Ron's death that I'd do them, I'd never have believed you:

1. Survive.
   Seriously, when the person you love most in the world dies, you think you're going to die, too. At least you want to. And you have to decide, moment by moment until you can do it hour by hour until you can do it day by day, that you're not going to join your beloved on the other side. Even though the only thing you wanted and still want is to be with that person. Thanks for my not doing that go in largest part to the grief support resources I discovered early on: a grief support website (no longer in existence) with a 24/7 chat room—a life saver!—and no less than 3 separate in-person support groups. For online support now, I go to Facebook groups and Widowed Village (which also has a 24/7 chat room).
2. Date again.
   After Ron died, my thinking was: I've already had the love of my life; why would I want to do that or try for that again? What I didn't know yet was: that was just the grief talking. About 9 months after Ron's death, I met Tim....and sensed a connection with him from our very first conversation. Within a couple weeks, we were dating. I think it took that experience to show me, as nothing else probably could have, that I did in fact want to and could love again. He and I didn't last, and I haven't yet found a truly long-term relationship, but at least I know it's a possibility.

3. At Camp Widow West 2013 (source). Shirt from the American Widow Project.

   Call myself a widow.
   When he died, Ron was my "boyfriend." We'd just started dating officially a couple months before. But I realized pretty quickly that "boyfriend" didn't begin to cover what he meant to me. "Dating" wasn't nearly sufficient. I began to call him my fiancé because we had talked so much about getting married; we had agreed in our hearts that we were headed for it. I truly believed that I would marry him someday. Even more than all that, though, the thing that most gave me permission to call myself "widow" was the essay The Widow's Gates by Kim Go. It opened my eyes to the historically-wider meaning of the word "widow" and more importantly, validated my unique journey. I can never thank Kim, herself a widow who was wedded, enough for writing that piece.

4. All of us at my first Camp Widow. Can you see me? (source)

   Find and join an inclusive community through something called Camp Widow. I can't remember exactly how I first heard about Camp Widow or its parent organization, Soaring Spirits (though I've racked my brain trying to!). But I'm so very glad I did. The thing that makes Soaring Spirits so meaningful to me is that anyone whose significant other died is welcome to participate in its programs—regardless of marital status, gender, age, or orientation. Of course, if it weren't so inclusive, I wouldn't be a part of it. I've been told time and again that I'm "not really a widow" because Ron and I weren't married. But that distinction doesn't matter at Soaring Spirits. The other thing that makes it so meaningful to me are the many friendships I've made through it, including some that I now hold dearest.
   
   
5. Support other widows. If I didn't imagine calling myself a widow, I certainly couldn't have imagined supporting other widows. But in July 2010, I and one other UW started the Unwedded Widows Facebook page (for UWs and supporters), and a few years later, I added the Unwedded Widows group (for UWs only).
   
   In 2013, Soaring Spirits started their Regional Group program, which allows widowed people in the areas where there are groups to regularly hang out with others who "get it." And I volunteered to lead Soaring Spirits Central Ohio, which has been in existence since August of that year.
   
   I've gotten indications that these support avenues have been helpful for people, and I am so, so grateful that's the case.
   

   With some of the members of SSCO.

   
   
6. Start 2 blogs.
   Of course, in 2004, I probably would've said, "What's a blog?" But about 5 years after Ron died, I started my other blog, Loving From the Inside Out—part of my attempt to bring good into the world out of his passing. There's still a lot more I want to do around that concept...and I'll certainly share about it when I do.

7. With Bare Escentuals Executive Chairman Leslie Blodgett during her visit to our store in July, 2010 (source / credit: Photolosophys).

   Become a makeup artist.
   In June 2007, I was laid off from my full-time job as a technical communicator, the job I had when Ron died. And while being laid off was certainly no fun, if it hadn't been for that, I'd never have needed a second job to supplement the temping I was doing, and I'd never have applied at Bare Escentuals. I already used and loved the foundation and a few other products, and I thought it'd be cool to work there. And it was. But it was more than that. For the first time, I really learned how to apply makeup, something I'd never been taught growing up in a home where it was largely forbidden. And knowing how to skillfully apply makeup helped me feel more beautiful and helped me help others to do the same. And not incidentally, that job did even more for me: it provided a bright spot in my life. It helped me experience some much-needed cheerfulness and fun. It gave me something to look forward to, which I hadn't had in a long time. I will forever be grateful for my time at BE.
8. Take long, solo car trips.
   In 2012, I wanted to go to Camp Widow East, but flying to Myrtle Beach (where East was held for the first 2 years) was so expensive, I knew I could rent a car and drive there for cheaper than the flight. And so I did, even though I couldn't find anyone to ride with me. And then in September 2013, I drove to New Jersey and back during a weekend so I could spend more time with my widowed peeps. As I've said before, it's certainly not the solo part that I love; I just don't let that part stop me. And I gained in confidence through doing it! Always a good thing.
9. Become a LGBT ally.
   Having grown up Independent Fundamental Baptist, there was only "one" answer regarding all things LGBT, which of course was that all of it is wrong, period. I mean, it's clearly stated

   Card given to those who sign up to be allies to the Pride Partnership (employee group) at my company. This now hangs directly below my nameplate outside my cubicle.

   in the Bible, right? Well, thanks largely to my frequent readership of Rachel Held Evans' blog and other voices, I have come to have a very different opinion about that. Especially since many scholars believe that the passages that conservatives interpret as being anti-homosexuality are actually referring to pedophilia and similar forms of abuse. Also, this video was especially enlightening. But possibly the biggest thing that shifted my thinking? The simple question: When did I decide to be straight? Ohhh, right. I didn't. Plus: I don't care anymore how other people live. 'Long as they're not causing harm to self or others,...I couldn't care less. Anyway, I'm so grateful I've changed in this way. There are people in my life today who I've come to care a great deal about who wouldn't be, if I hadn't changed my mind and heart.
10. Take up yoga.
    Well, yoga was another thing forbidden by the IFB. The conservative Christian "party line," as I've heard it, is that yoga comes out of Hinduism and is therefore evil and that you're a) worshiping Hindu gods when you assume certain poses and b) inviting demons into your body and life when you sound an "om." I've even heard that "om" is the name of a specific demon. (How anybody would even "know" that, I have no idea.) Well, I now find all of that to be patently ridiculous. Worshiping is an act of the will; it's not like you can accidentally worship something. And as for "om"? A very experienced yoga teacher, when I asked what the deal with "om" was, said that the word itself doesn't mean anything; sounding it is just a way to experience vibration in the belly, chest, and head. I started practicing in June of this year, and I've come to love going to class. I've begun to see inklings of a difference it is making in my life, and that is very cool.

 And...a bonus one (since this one didn't occur until just after the 10-year mark passed): Have my own website. I don't remember when I first had the idea of having my own site, but it may've been because my old Internet service provider included some free website space with every account. I'd learned a little HTML in my work as a technical communicator, so I created one on that platform, but it was pretty rudimentary. It did, however, tell the story of Ron and me. Later, when I changed ISPs, that site went away. Then sometime within the last couple years, I discovered Wix, which allows people to create their own professional looking site without having to do any coding. And after a lot of thought and hard work, I finally have a site that I'm proud of and that once again tells my and Ron's story. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...conniewinch.com:

So there you have it. Come to think of it,...I've done a lot! 

Camp Widow East 2013: The Same and Yet So Different

All Camp Widow East 2013 attendees. Hope Matters! (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

So...I had internet access issues for several weeks recently (long story); that's why I haven't posted much lately and why I'm only now posting my overall report on Camp Widow East (which was over a month ago). So, without further ado:

Camp Widow was different this time...and also the same. The "different" part will make sense later. The "same" part is...this was my 4th Camp (so hard to believe), and they're starting to run together in my mind. Never thought that would happen.

This time, I didn't know for a long time if I'd be able to go. For the first few months of this year, I wasn't sure I'd be retaining my job, due to changes at the company. Fortunately, in the meantime, I've kept it, but back in March, I didn't know if I'd be able to afford Camp. Well, enter...an anonymous donor. One evening during the second week March, Michele Neff Hernandez, the head of Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation and Camp Widow director, messaged me on Facebook to tell me someone had anonymously donated specifically for me  a registration and 2 nights' stay in the hotel. I was absolutely floored...and soon in tears. Though I have my suspicions, I don't really know who this donor was. So I can only put a huge "Thank you!" out into the universe...and find ways to pay it forward.

Another amazing means of help came the night before I was set to leave. After all sorts of talk with the SSLF car pool coordinator (cool, huh?) about things like picking someone up in Charlotte of all places and after a plan with a widow sister from Indiana to ride together (but miss parts of the event), the coolest thing happened. That night I thought, "I should check Widowed Village." That turned out to be fortuitous: a friend had messaged me there saying a widow in my area was driving all the way there the next day. Also fortuitous: that same widow, Beth, came into the chat room shortly thereafter. We started chatting, and pretty soon we'd agreed that she'd pick me up in the morning. All I had to do was pay for a tank of gas. So that is what we did...and we had a good time in the car getting to know each other. Plus--no missing any part of the event. So cool!

Here are some of the highlights/things I remember most from this Camp:

• The Widowed Village gathering on Thursday night, which I'm so glad I got to attend. After the previous Camp, I realized there were a bunch of WV people I hadn't met...and only after the fact did I also learn they'd had a gathering! So it was good to connect in person with more of them this time.
• Debra Morrison is awesome. Well, I knew that already. Her session was about how passive investing is better than active investing (something else I knew already). But what I really loved about it was seeing how Debra speaks to and looks out for those who like her are widowed but who may not be financially savvy...and who other less-principled financial advisors might prey on. If I ever decide to get over my wimpiness about money, Debra's wisdom is the first place I'll turn.
• Audrey Pellicano's session Healthy Living After Loss. A couple of things, both unexpected, from this session stand out: first was how the guided imagery she led us through affected me. I'm half skeptical/half open to stuff like that, but--damn, this made the emotions well up so strong and so fast, it floored me. For some reason I tend think that at 8+ years out, I'm not going to get "so" emotional about it anymore. Wrong. Second was how I have started to think I should take up yoga, after I felt so...loose and, I don't know, different--in a good way--after the few yoga moves she had us do. Me, considering yoga. Whoa.
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• Michele's (always-excellent) keynote address. This time the theme was: Instead of thinking of life after widowhood as "Plan B," choose to create a "new Plan A." Keep your arms open to life. Can be so hard to do, but...so necessary.
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• The unexpectedly-different-this-time roundtable discussion for those Widowed and Not Legally Married. Usually we have a more facilitated discussion, but this time we just went around and told our stories. Also different: I'd only met one of the people in that room before. While I'm never glad when there are new unwedded widows, it was good to get to know those people.
• Becoming friends with some of those unwedded widows, especially Tanya Villanueva Tepper. Tanya's fiance Sergio Villanueva was a firefighter who was killed on 9/11.
  
  
  
• Tanya's session about grief over time. Tanya was one of several people that documentary filmmakers followed for several years after 9/11. They made the film Rebirth. She was able to get just her portions of the film put into a single clip, which she showed in the session. I don't have words adequate to describe the effect it had on me. The emotion welled up so strong that I was a mess for a couple hours afterwards; in fact I had to leave early from the session following it and go lay down for awhile. Simply profound.
  
  
  
• Chatting with Steve Cunningham and Veronica King Cunningham and attending their session Love in the Aftermath (which incidentally is also the name of Steve's blog). Steve and Vee (as she is commonly called) are one of the couples who help me have hope for finding love again.
  
  
  
• Meeting Jodi Hutchinson, an intuitive health consultant. We had a great conversation of just sharing our stories, and she affirmed my thinking about a health condition I believe I have (I'll be blogging about that soon).
• The banquet (where this happened).
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• And, as always...connecting with other widows!--renewing existing friendships and making new ones. Here's me and my new friend Orla Green. She's from Ireland, has 12 (!) children, and is both a riot and an absolute sweetheart:
  
  
  

But the most different thing of all was: I detected a shift in my feelings about Camp Widow...not to the negative, mind you! I think it's just that I don't need it in quite the same way I once did. I started noticing this shift when I realized toward the end that, while I didn't want it to be over, I wasn't devastated that it was over.

Do you know how weird all of that is?

Anyway, at the very least, I know that I need to not just "take" from Camp Widow anymore. It's beyond time to start giving back. (I'm already working on one way to do that; so stay tuned!) 

I'm excited that I'm finally to the point where I know that I can be of real service to others in this community. New Plan A, indeed.

How I Successfully Formed a New Habit

source

You guessed it...there's an app. for that! One day several weeks ago as I was thinking about how to really, finally make a habit out of, well, certain things I want to make a habit of. ;) And I was reminded of the idea that says that if you track something, your performance is likely to be better at it. Simply the act of tracking it can lead to better results. Then I figured that there had to be an app. that would help me do that.

So I searched the app. store for "habit tracking." Well, I originally searched on just "tracking" and got mostly results that were trackers for specific things that don't relate to my life. But "habit tracking" yielded the app. that I use now; it's called Habit Streak. Now, I'm certainly not here to "sell" you on this particular app. Just sharing my experience. If you're going to use an app. or any other external tool, of course, find one(s) that really work for you.

How this app. works is: you give a name and description to the new habit and choose a time of day that you want the app. to ask whether you did that new thing. The idea is that you would report on the previous day's progress...and the more consecutive days for which you can indicate "yes, I did this thing," the longer of a streak you build up--hence "Habit Streak."

The only things I don't like about this particular app. are: it only works for things you want to do daily, and it only reminds you, about all of the habits you're tracking, at the same time every day. Some things I want to be reminded of at particular times, like if I want to start taking a multivitamin daily with breakfast, I might want to be reminded of that at a different time than some other things. But--the company that developed this app. has another one that, from what I understand, allows for durations other than daily, so I may be giving that a try soon.

The interesting thing I discovered, though, is: once it got to the point where I was expecting the reminder (I'd set it for right before bedtime, so I guess that made starting to expect it easier), I would realize that if I hadn't done my new habits, I'd have to say "no." And of course I wouldn't be "disappointing the app."--I'd be disappointing myself.

Whoa. 

I guess that's the power of tracking! Who knew?!?

I've heard that if you do something 27 times, it's a habit. So by that measure I have formed two new habits and am in the process of forming a couple more. Someday I may blog about what some of those new habits are; for now I'm just thrilled that I can honestly say: This is now a habit. With the new things I'm doing, my health and my happiness are bound to benefit.

The Camp Widow 2012 Message Releases

At Camp Widow East this year, we did something that was new at the time, a message release. In our conference bags they'd given all of us a glass heart, along with a small piece of paper and a piece of string to tie them together. We wrote whatever we wanted on the paper, wrapped it around the heart, and tied it with the string. Then after the banquet on Saturday night, we all took our hearts with us as we headed out past the pool and down the wooden sidewalk that lead right onto the beach. It was great: we were all in our finery, most of us barefoot in the sand (having left our shoes under a lamp by the pool), with glow sticks around our necks (so no one would get lost...genius!). And then, individually or in groups, standing back or wading in, at whatever moment worked for us, we hurled our message-encased glass hearts into the ocean. It was a great moment.

The thing is, what I remember about it, more than I remember the moment I threw that glass heart into the sea, is that I walked into and lived this experience with my beautiful new friend Kris, which is a good thing, but also that I was a little distracted--by laughing with Kris, by thinking about a CW attendee that I'd started to admire (and no, I'm not going to tell you who it is). It's not my biggest regret in life or anything (ha!), but I kinda wish I'd focused a little more, gotten more "into" the experience.

That was Camp Widow East.

At Camp Widow West, we again had a glass heart in our bag and were told there'd be a message release, but this time it it was going to be on the terrace. In other words: the San Diego Marriott Marquis and Marina, while it is near the water, is not right on the beach. So I kept thinking, "How are we gonna do this message release? We can't throw glass hearts from a few stories up!"

And, once again, I had paid a little less attention than I now wish I had. (Geez, what is my problem?!?) I hadn't read the note was inside the bag containing the glass heart, explaining the ritual--in truth, I hadn't known there was a note in there--so I didn't know that a) there were actually 3 hearts in there (and 3 small, blank pieces of paper) or b) that we were supposed to write one of the following on each: something you want to get rid of, something you were hoping to gain from Camp Widow, and something you're grateful for. Someone explained it to me right before we walked to the terrace, so I quickly wrote mine out and hurried to join the crowd already gathered on the terrace, listening to Michele explain how it was going to work.

It turns out they had 3 fire pits set up on the terrace, in a straight line but spaced apart, and we would walk to each one and toss one of the wrapped hearts into the fire by turn: in the first one, the thing we wanted to get rid of; in the second, the thing we wanted from Camp Widow, and in the third, the thing we're grateful for. 

Though I'd gone into it in a hurried, distracted way again, this time...I was unprepared for how powerfully this ritual would affect me.

Michele had asked everyone to do this quietly, so it could be a contemplative experience. And we did. It was amazing: a few hundred people, all virtually silent, as we carried out our personal ritual within the larger one, as we huddled in groups just taking in the event or went off by ourselves. I loved that silence. 

I'm not going to name what I wrote on that first piece of paper; suffice it to say it's a negative emotion. And as I waited behind others at the first pit, as I stared at that fire, as I dropped my wrapped heart into it, all I could think was, "I really do want to get rid of this." The tears came up from so deep and they came so fast and so strong, I was caught off guard. 

I can't remember exactly what I wrote on the second paper, but I know it had to do with the connection, the friendship, even the love we share as widows. Those 3 words are points along a continuum; they're all part of the same thing: the bond that the widowed share. It is like no other bond I have ever experienced. It's practically instant, it's very deep, and it is incredibly strong. Even for a widowed person I had a connection with but not even friendship yet, I would go to the mat for them if they had the need and I had the means to help.

I do believe I wrote "friendship" on the third paper. (Did I repeat myself from the 2nd paper? That's unlike me, but while I can't remember exactly, that's what my brain is telling me.) I do believe friendship is what I was most grateful for in that moment. Being surrounded by so many widowed people, many who have genuinely become my friends...I was and am so grateful for them and for the people and forces in my life that took me from a relatively alone-feeling place to Camp Widow the first time to meet all of them and become a part of their lives and they a part of mine.

And the spontaneous hugs when one of them sees your tears...No words necessary.

...except: Thank you, Tom. ♥



At Least I Know This Much

So the other day a woman I follow on Twitter said this, about her boyfriend: He "kisses girls in my presence, as well as ogles and requests phone numbers." This was not the first time she mentioned things like this about him. In fact she and I had already exchanged messages where I asked her why she stays with him. After claiming he's a good guy (to which I replied, "Hon, good guys don't hit on other women when they're dating one"), she said he's her best option right now and she just hates being alone.

Well. I don't exactly love being alone, but at least I know this much: It would be entirely reasonable to expect a boyfriend to hit on only one person: ME.

All of the above occurred days ago. In a tweet just tonight, she intimated that he's "nailing" (her word) another woman while in a different state. Our exchange after that follows:

Me: FOR REAL??? Please tell me that he is no longer your bf! Please tell me you care about yourself that much. #youdeservebetter

Her: He is. :-(

Me: What I'm concerned about is YOU. You are *accepting* his *cheating on you*--behavior that is UNaccpetable. And you are mistreating yourself by accepting his mistreatment of you.

Her: I'm not certain that he is "nailing" anyone but I do know he looks when he's away on business. Which he is now. It was the deal

Me: And that is a bad deal for you.

Her: Yeah. I know. But it's the only deal I have right now.

Me: Yes, but you are doing yourself NO favors. I get the feeling I can't say anything to convince you to care for yourself better. I can only hope and pray that someday soon you'll begin to know your worth. xo

Her: Thank you, Connie. I hope you're right. Hugs.

So...if he ogles other women in her presence, do you think he "just" looks while she's not around?  Yeah right. You know he's looking for someone to be with, maybe even someone to take her place, such as it is.

And--I mean, seriously?!? How difficult is it to say, "Look, if you're going to seek out/be with other women, get out of my life"? Ohhh, because then she'd be alone. But--she'd be alone and have her self. respect.

Why, why WHY do women accept this kind of treatment from men? (And now I'm thinking...Perhaps it happens the other way? If so, why do men accept blatant mistreatment from women?) In her case she says it's because she hates being alone. And can being alone suck? YES, it absolutely can. 'Cause we're all built for relationship, there's no doubt about it. And if you tend to the lonely on top of being alone...the suck factor goes up by about a million. Take it from one who knows: loneliness is something I've struggled with almost my entire life, so I get where it comes from.

I just don't like where it goes. The whole point of dating is, generally, to find someone to spend the rest of your life with...oh, unless you want to have your cake and eat it too, also known in this case as being a selfish jerk.


I got to thinking about what her life must be like, and I wonder: What must the dynamic be like between them? How can she look at herself in the mirror? Does she let him run roughshod over her in every other way too? I mean, if he doesn't respect her enough to commit only to her in the big things, how can she expect him to honor her wishes in the small things?

And in a big way it all reminds me of my parents. Not that my dad mistreated my mom in this way...Suffice it to say he was controlling; she was enabling. And it ruined my childhood. She put up with so much--including abuse (of us kids). If she had figured out how to appropriately stand up to him, indeed realized that it was OK to--it could have saved me and my family a LOT of pain.

So to my fellow women: I beg you: Know your worth. Have enough self respect to set some standards for the kinds of behavior you will and won't accept. For the sake of any children you may have, for the sake of YOU--know your worth.

Not that I have completely arrived in this area. But at least I know this much: I have the right to expect the best treatment from the man who will someday be in my life. And so do you.