Goals 2021 -- January Recap

It's about time that I had an unqualified success with one of my goals, don't you think?  But this month I did!

It was a bit of a joint effort.  I put together a list of workout ideas to rotate through so I didn't just alternate between biking and erging.  I was lamenting my lack of inspiration to Dad, who suggested that rather than just having a list of ideas, I write out a plan.  That way, like it or not, I knew what my task was for the day, rather than just looking at my list and feeling uninspired by any of them.  I got my calendar white board out and wrote out what was left of the month after he made this suggestion.

Other than one day in which I overslept and missed my erg session, I accomplished my workout every single day.  And even on that day of extra sleep, S pitched in to help me succeed too.  He and I took a walk at a nearby park and played a little bit of catch in the yard (which, for someone who used to play softball, I am embarrassingly bad at).

And that's how January because an unqualified success, and was fun too.

2021 Reading Challenge

I have, to this point in my life, avoided reading challenges.  Why is this?  Primarily, I'm a slow reader so I am almost inevitably bound to fail at them unless the goal is ridiculously low.

[Aside: ridiculous is a word I always spell wrong the first time.  Rediculous.  But then I know that looks rediculous so I change it to ridiculous.]

Secondarily, I am not great at intermediate-term goals.  Short term goals (today, this week) I can remember and more or less stay focused on.  Long-term goals I'm not actually sure I'm very good at, but the goal seems to have changed by the time I get there anyway, so no matter.  But those intermediate-term goals (6 months, a year) ... those are tough.  Not enough time has gone by for the goal posts to have moved too far, but too much time has gone by for me to remember why I really care.

Whew, I thought we were talking about books here.  That got heavy.

K identified a 2021 reading challenge which looks pretty interesting.  It's a book a month (which is a lot for me), but since it's just the two of us we can make up our own damn rules.  I added a couple of restrictions of my own, to help me get through my backlog of books:

1. It had to be a book I already owned;
2. It had to be a book I had not read yet;
3. I can go out of order (mostly since my March and October books are already on my nightstand); and
4. I can bend whatever other rules I want later.

So, here are the lucky winners:

January: a book by a person who is famous for something other than writing
At Ease: Stories I Tell to Friends, by Dwight Eisenhower

February: an author's debut novel
Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe

March: a book about an animal
Winter World, by Bernd Heinrich

April: a book about an area of science you know nothing about
Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, by Mary Roach

May: a prizewinner
The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, by Daniel James Brown (among other things, the American Bookseller's Association's 2014 adult non-fiction Book of the Year)

June: a book in translation
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, by Pablo Neruda (trans. W.S. Merwin)

July: a book that's been banned
Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley (banned numerous places, including Australia, India, and Ireland)

August: a retelling of a myth or fairy tale
The Song of Achilles, by Madeline Miller

September: a classic mystery
Sherlock Holmes: Selected Stories, by Arthur Conan Doyle

October: a graphic novel
The Best We Could Do, by Thi Bui

November: a collection of letters
What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self, ed. Ellyn Spragins

December: a book that's set in your hometown or state
The Slide, by Kyle Beachy

The Song I'm Loving Today

Firewater (Amythyst Kiah)

I discovered this song while listening to the WNYC podcast series called Dolly Parton's America.  Near the end of the series, the producers included an episode called "Traveling Creatures," which featured two live performances.  Both of the featured songs are truly spectacular folk/Americana -- with beautiful, thoughtful, sorrowful lyrics and simple instrumentation -- and worth listening to.  Unfortunately, I can't find a good video for the other one (by a wise-beyond-her-years young banjo player from Brooklyn named Nora Brown), so you're only getting this one.  But you can certainly click the link above and listen to the podcast episode to hear them both. 

Melancholy always seemed to work for me,
Wistful and uncertain of dreams.
Stardust forms into shapes that never leave,
Strange and wary they all seem.
I'm a ghost in the hall, a haint in the room,
Everywhere I go, impending doom.

How many spirits does it take to lift the spirit?
I don't know, I don't know,
'Cause I've bought every spirit and I'm still laying here cryin' on the floor, on the floor.

So can you just leave me be?
Being drenched in firewater won't save me;
I'll forsake the path of filth.
Please, can you just leave me be?

Pensive stares are the only crowns I've ever gleaned,
So in the dark I find the answers that I need.
City lights are the only stars I ever see;
How many nights until I finally can breathe?

How many spirits does it take to lift the spirit?
I don't know, I don't know,
'Cause I've bought every spirit and I'm still laying here cryin' on the floor, on the floor.

So can you just leave me be?
Being drenched in firewater won't save me;
I'll forsake the path of filth.
Please, can you just leave, can you just leave, can you just leave me be?

Goals 2021 -- January Edition (Plus 2020 Reflections)

Remember how back at the beginning of 2020, my overarching theme for my year of goals would be to  Clearing My Mind, Simplifying My Life?  I had no idea that a pandemic was headed my (really everyone's) direction which would thrust simplification upon us in a lot of ways.

But that is what happened.

Sure, in some ways, shifting to working at home created added complications: the need to buy new or relocate lighting fixtures, worrying about Zoom backgrounds, creating new work flow strategies with team members, and the like.

I choose instead to focus on the positive aspects, and the simplicity: more time with S, time at home to garden and cook, less frenetic traveling but the traveling we did do was longer and lazier.

Now, nearly a week into 2021, I am in need of a new theme and a goal for the month.  After some recent conversations about my general lack of enthusiasm about my workouts, I have decided to choose a totally generic, predictable January goal -- work out.  How will I quantify this and get a little more excited about it?  Rather than the usual biking and erging which have taken over my routine since the weather turned cold, I will mix in some other things: weights, boxing, running (again), yoga.  At the end of the month, you will get a count of my workouts in each category.

As for a year-long theme, how about Adding a Little Fun?  After 2020, when so many people were unhappy about so many things, let's try to lighten it up a bit!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

 

What I'm Reading Now -- Solutions and Other Problems

My Christmas present from K was Solutions and Other Problems, the long-awaited sequel to Allie Brosh's first blog-turned-book, Hyperbole and a Half.  

As far as I am aware, Allie long ago stopped writing on her blog, so I am interested to see how this book differs from her first, given that it was probably conceived as a book from the start.

Even if it's only half as enjoyable and entertaining as the first one, it'll still be a pleasure to read.

Happy New Year!

The Year in Review

2020 has been quite a year, hasn't it?

Of course there was (and remains) the pandemic.  There was racial unrest.  Lebanon blew up and a plane crashed in Iran.  There were murder hornets and Biblical swarms of locusts and killer whales attacking boaters.  Raging wildfires burned up much of Australia and the western United States.  And we haven't even touched on politics yet.  Trump was impeached, kept his office, was voted out of his office, and for some time refused to leave.  On the other side of the pond, there was Brexit, Megxit, and probably something else that ends with -xit.  

But there were good things too.  Sure, they were, for the most part, smaller and more personal stories and victories, but that is to be expected -- especially since at the behest of our public health officials we were supposed to be staying home as much as possible.  I got to spend a lot of time with S (and we still like each other!), we made some improvements to our house (and identified many more which are still in progress or not yet begun), we got to spend several weeks visiting family (which required some long drives, but that became part of the fun), we cooked a lot, and I read more than I have in a long time.  My high school reunion was cancelled (not that I would have gone anyway).

We are lucky enough to be a pretty self-contained unit -- no kids, both working from home with people who are more or less also independent, and both pretty okay with isolation.  But I did very much enjoy hearing the stories of all the people who really went above and beyond.  I especially enjoyed the stories of teachers visiting their students to make sure they were okay, delivery drivers being appreciated for the extra work load, and most of all medical professionals who kept on going to work even when they didn't know what kind of a virus they were fighting or how to best protect themselves while caring for their patients.  That last group -- they are the real heroes.

I wonder -- what lessons will we take from this year?  Will we correct racial injustices?  Will we take better care of our environment?  Will people be kinder to each other?  Will people appreciate what they have when things are good, and help others when things are hard?  Or will we move on to other things and forget all about it?

Yes, it has been quite a year.  What we will say about it in 20 years' time?

Flux -- Take 2

I wasn't sure what I was going to have to say about Flux: Women on Sex, Work, Love, Kids, & Life in a Half-Changed World.  Even now having read it, my thoughts are still mixed.

I am, as I suspected I might be, past the point in my life where much of this advice is meaningful.  I have already fought with society about the expectation that I would have children, questioned whether I was being stubborn rather than thoughtful and reflective, but ultimately decided that I knew what was fest for me and everybody else could screw right off.

So, had I read this book 10 or 12 years ago, some of its insights may have made that journey easier.  Alas, I did not.

What I did appreciate about the book (really, about the author) is that she is able to examine different perspectives, different choices, different goals, and discuss them thoughtfully and without judgment.  Ultimately, her conclusion -- that the very nature of the state of flux combined with individual choices means that we each must navigate our own path -- is not terribly helpful.  But she gets there in a way that reminded me that everyone's road is different.  We can all be better if we approach other people's choices and struggles with a goal to understand or at least respect them rather than to compare or judge them.

Happy Birthday to Me!