Writing: Oh, 2020…

It is hard to know where to begin. The year started out with a trip to Arizona just as the pandemic was starting to be more than a whisper in China and Europe. I saw my brother for the first time in twenty years. I spent time with family and time in contemplation.

I changed jobs just as the pandemic started to hit locally going from being an ER nurse for nearly 14 years to going back to the medical floor. It felt like both an insane and a sane thing to do. Switching gears from critical care back to non-critical care felt like going backward, but what I have learned is that my critical knowledge can save people in that space too. Everyone has the potential to take a turn for the worse. The work has been just as hard or harder. The deaths of patients hit much deeper when you have spent weeks caring for them rather than minutes. Not that each death I have ever witnessed hasn’t take a piece of my soul. I’m learning that I like to take care of old folks more than young folks. They are appreciative and have good stories. They make me laugh and cry.

Being an introvert (possibly a ambivert), I thought I would have it made in the shade when they closed down practically everything in my town in New York, but I was wrong. I realized just how many places I went in a day, how much public I soaked up by just being in close proximity. Forced isolation has a much different feeling than when it is freely chosen. I did what I always do and that is find a way around it. Much of the year was spent playing disc golf and walking… so much walking. I found new places to explore in my town and found peace in nature like I had not before. I played my first tournaments in disc golf and got an official PDGA number. I even placed 3rd in one event.

In April, after spending a month writing poems from tandem prompts, I fell in love. I had really settled on being alone for the rest of my life. A string of bad relationships makes you feel like it is hard to trust and I had trust issues in the background already. The pandemic had me looking for friendship and I found that along with love. Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve all the kindness this man wants to shower me with. I feel broken and selfish and a bit closed off when I shouldn’t. But he is always there waiting to offer solution and patience. From a distance (we live 8 hours apart), we have built a beautiful friendship and have worked diligently around every corner to be present in our own individual traumas while being there for each other. Our holiday plans were foiled by Covid, but not for much longer.

This year I finished writing the first draft of my first novel. My writer’s group at the library was a great influence in getting me back into finishing this book and my dear friends Mattea and Jerry pushed me across the finish line. It was no where near what I wanted it to be and it is currently on its third draft. In the spring, I set the first novel down to start an idea for the second one. Seven chapters into that one and I went back to the first. The foundation is laid. Yesterday, the book cover for the second book came to me while in deep rest during acupuncture. It is going to be an exciting new year.

This fall I was diagnosed with Melanoma and had a huge chunk excised off the side of my face which I promptly named Edgar Allen Mole. It started as a way to cope with this disfigurement and the fear of dying. The skin is the body’s largest organ and the most exposed. The potential for more cancer is always in the back of your mind. I was never a big sunbather, but I do enjoy the outdoors and disc golf and hiking. I only wore sunscreen if I were going to a beach with “wide open sun.” Life is different now. Hats all the time. Sunscreen all the time. No activity (if I can help it) with a UV index over 4. The hardest part was watching my kid silently unravel with the thought of losing me. That made me determined to kick some ass. Since the first excision, I have had four more biopsies with negative results. My eyes are free of melanoma as well. This year may find me having another ten biopsies, but I will cross that bridge when I get there.

An opportunity opened itself in December for me to sell all the things I make. I’m a crafter and artist. It is my meditation. It is what I do instead of take anxiety medication. I had always wanted to know if the things I made were of interest to anyone else. I took the plunge when a local store opened up that sells only handmade items from locals. Happily, I have sold enough this month to cover the rent of my spot for two more months plus some cash in my pocket. It was a goal I had for myself and I was happy to have achieved it in a pandemic situation.

Now for the fun stuff! Here is a list of books that I was able to read or listen to this year:

Poetry:
Like a Begger by Ellen Bass
Lucky Fish by Aimee Nezhukumatahil
Under the Influence of Nothingness by Dan Provost
Human Hours by Catherine Barnett
Heroin Love Songs X
Blisters on My Soul by Jack Henry

Non-Fiction:
Guest Book by Leanne Shapton
The Body is Not an Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor
Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell
The Five by Hallie Rubenhold
Girl Stop Apologizing by Rachel Hollis
Astrophysics for People in a Hurry by Neil deGrasse Tyson
Atomic Habits by James Clear
Songbook by Nick Hornby
Daring Greatly by Brene Brown

Fiction:
Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Moonglow by Michael Chabon
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
Salt Dancers by Ursula Hegi
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
Oryx and Crake by Margarat Atwood
Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs
Lanny by Max Porter
The Butterfly Girl by Rene Denfeld
The Rules of Magic by Alice Hoffman
Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman
Weather by Jenny Offill
The Glass Hotel by Emily St. John Mandel

Graphic Novels:
Redlands
Black Magik
Regression

Buddhist Text:
Journey Without Goal by Chogyam Trungpa