Meg Sefton's Blog, page 37

Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit”

Rose by JLDMphoto, flickr

This afternoon after doing errands, I thought I might watch television to see what was happening in my very own hometown, a convention just down the street: A televised speech of the most corrosive political influence in our nation’s history.

Instead, I made the choice to turn off the television. Rather than indulge my grief over so much unmitigated darkness, I streamed the movie The United States vs. Billie Holiday on Hulu. And yes, this also caused me to grieve. I grieved for the crushing of a beautiful, talented, brave spirit by forces still in existence, forces recently emboldened.

It has tumbled down upon me today – not just from watching this movie – but all weekend as I’ve been hearing about who has been speaking at this conference, who is and who is not attending, who is and who is not being represented – that things have not changed. If they were changing, they have somehow snapped back like a released rubber band.

In the spirit of Billie Holliday, we who want to forge a new path must keep singing our songs, songs of truth. We must sing our hard songs, the songs that threaten because people don’t want to listen. Billie Holiday’s Academy-Award-winning song that was recognized by Time Magazine as “Best Song of the Century” was “Strange Fruit,” a powerful calling out of the then-legal (and still legal!) lynching of black Americans in our country. That this dark conference today is taking place in the south bowled me over as I watched this movie today.

I have lost a couple of relatives because they don’t want to hear these kinds of songs and understand how the outcry in them speaks to the kinds of dark politics literally taking the stage at present. I mourn this loss. I love these people. They made me who I am but many are trapped. I hear the attempts to embrace certain policies promoted by this party, a party who foments racism, sometimes seeming to do so while “politely” looking away. I hope to get the call one day that my loved ones are singing the song too.

Who is meeting in my town represents dark elements, some of the darkest in our nation. There is just no getting around it. I feel the day would have been best met with black skies, hurricane weather, the ground shuddering with the force.

But in Florida, a hot, sunshiny day can be just as ominous.

I am told that to be a professional (writer, editor, writing coach), I should not get political on social media. But as someone who is involved in the arts and people creating the arts, I’m just not sure I can separate all these selves. Billie Holliday is a stunning example of the undivided self. Look at her experiences and the truth and pain welling up in her art. She was a genius. And that was her power.

Birthday thoughts

Kitten’s Birthday, edited Library of Congress image, Stuart Rankin, flickr

For my birthday, my sister sent me a text of a picture of a quote by Henri Nouwen. It basically states birthdays are about celebrating the joy of one’s existence. Unlike so many other celebrations in our lives, what makes the day special is that the day is an existential recognition. It was such a wonderful quote it inspired me to peruse my bookshelves to see which of my Nouwen books survived my recent move and downsizing effort. From a distance, I saw a friendly cover, a deep red paperback cover for Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. I thought: Isn’t spotting a cherished book a little like seeing a friend or beloved relative from afar? You know their walk, their stance, the things they tend to wear. You see and know them immediately.

With my book beside me, the cover art the classic Rembrandt “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” I am beginning to recall a scene in Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son: When the father sees his son from a distance, he runs out to embrace him, to welcome him home. Aren’t we all yearning to be welcomed home? Whether in a relationship, or in some personal, spiritual sense, is this not our hope, our journey? Happy birthday to me, and well wishing to you, for we should all know no matter who we are, there is hope for healing, for belonging.

Writing flash fiction with Kathy Fish

This afternoon, I have had a few minutes to pour over the latest exercise in Kathy Fish’s newsletter. It offers so much gold. I am glad I have decided to post this because it is a discussion of the creation of the beginning of a flash piece. I actually used the guidelines to go back and evaluate a nonfiction flash piece I submitted to a journal yesterday. I did spot ways I could improve my piece, something I often do in the process of receiving rejections and turning revised material into future submissions.

I would say also when someone says “exercise” a connotation of school comes to mind although in a way, this is a “school” without grades! Thankfully! Often, creating does take a little bit of time. I need to think through what I want to write. Sometimes in moving through my day, something will occur to me.

I hope you will consider perusing the newsletter. If you have considered writing fiction, it is a good chance to work on some fundamentals. Even if you go on to write longer forms, or if you are currently engaged in any kind of writing, you will have  gained some helpful writing muscles. A good argument for this is made in the newsletter.

Best wishes — Meg

Within A Forest Dark

South Australian History, Thebarton School 1926, public domain, flickr

Kathy Fish is an accomplished writer in the flash fiction form. In her newsletter, she generously shares thoughts about writing flash fiction and provides prompts to help get you going. Her posts draw from her craft book The Art of Flash Fiction. I strongly encourage you to sign up for her newsletter. I have! In this week’s installment, she gives a prompt for starting a flash fiction story. I hope to squeeze in some time to follow along! Best wishes – Meg

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warmongerstolove.com

The cabin by Nathalie Smid, flickr

The mailman I dated bought another AK-47 one sunny afternoon. He lived in suburban Florida, a couple of neighborhoods away. He wanted to go back for a glock. He scared me. It rattled my nerves. I don’t know why I stayed with him. He was tall, blond, and blue eyed like a Viking. I guess that was why. He said when he was in the army he killed people but it wasn’t so bad because he launched missiles and wasn’t able to see anyone he hit. He took me to the gunstore after we went to Applebee’s. The gunstore salespeople looked at him enthuse about the guns and shmooze them. He could shmooze anyone. I could tell they were being watchful. He must have been well known.

The mailman I dated admitted to holding the mail out under the rain as he walked between mailboxes. He admitted to soaking people’s mail. On purpose. He hated his job. He hated the people, the dogs, the heat. He hated his ex-wife. He was always angry. It sounds like an unfair cliché, this characterization, but in this case it is not a cliché, it was true.

I was going through cancer treatment while I was dating him. I was buying wigs, makeup, heels, trying to be “normal,” trying to be “pretty,” though my life was coming apart in threads. I had just divorced. I was trying to have a proper midlife crisis when cancer came along. My brain was scrambled from the chemo and the steroids administered to combat chemo’s effects. Later I realized he was using me though he knew how to do it without making me too aware of it.

Near the end of it, I said to him in response to some mixed up communication between us, You must be confusing me with your other girlfriend, the one who lives on the other side of town.

Turns out, my mouth knew something my brain didn’t know. He said, You’re too smart for me. That was the beginning of the end.

He had always said he wanted a woman to go out to Montana with him, get a cabin, live off the grid. He was trying to toughen me up he said, I guess in preparation for Montana, or to see if I was Montana-worthy. Toughening me up meant putting me down and flirting with other women. The only thing I could think of when he stopped calling was all that firepower at his house, and how it slid neatly under his bed, packed in foam molded to the shape of guns. After months went by, I spoke with a mutual friend who worked as a clerk at the post office. She put postage on my package while we chatted. She said he was with someone and was happy. I wondered if they were in Montana. I didn’t trust him. I wondered what his dark plans were.

Incredible though it may seem, my heart was broken. I’ve sustained a lot of damage and what happens when you’re damaged is you attract people who damage. Missile launchers don’t care, but unless you get away, you’re toast. Even if you’re riddled with cancer, they’ll laugh as they’re loading their war machine. And they’re doing it on purpose.

Why did I like him? I have no idea. I always try to make the decision not to hate myself.

Writing flash fiction with Kathy Fish

South Australian History, Thebarton School 1926, public domain, flickr

Kathy Fish is an accomplished writer in the flash fiction form. In her newsletter, she generously shares thoughts about writing flash fiction and provides prompts to help get you going. Her posts draw from her craft book The Art of Flash Fiction. I strongly encourage you to sign up for her newsletter. I have! In this week’s installment, she gives a prompt for starting a flash fiction story. I hope to squeeze in some time to follow along! Best wishes – Meg

Magic Turtle, part 4

turtle by Alexander Stoian

The magic turtle, the most powerful animal in the swamp, failed to use his power to save the other animals from the Burmese python. After the behemoth was freed, the magic turtle stood on a very high and guarded platform to lecture the ravenous apex predator.

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Ms. Myska receives a Valentine

Rainy Red square by Misha Sokolnikov, flickr

The Saturday night before Valentine’s Day, there was a sharp rapping on Ms, Myska’s door. By the time she slipped on both of her face masks, her face shield. her gloves, the visitor had gone. On her doormat was a red foil gift bag with tufts of tissue paper jutting out. She looked in all directions, but there was no one in the hallway of her apartment building. She retrieved the package, stepped back inside, and applied the deadbolt.

She set the package on her hall tree bench. She gently removed the tissue paper to reveal a large box that smelled faintly of something rich and sweet – chocolate. She removed the box from the bag: “St. Basil Gift Box Assorted Specialty Chocolates.” There was a card. All it said was “Tony.”

She had met Tony Lasko, the ice cream man, months ago, when he drove his truck through the neighborhood. After he became sick from the coronavirus, she had not heard from him for months. And after more virulent strains had entered the population, she was even more reticent to go outside. She doubted she would have met him out anyway.

She took off her disposable gloves and sat on her sofa beside her window, the window where she had first seen the ice cream truck go by. She hugged the chocolates of her motherland to her chest.

Aretha Franklin “Amazing Grace”

One of the best albums of all time. Even if you’re not a religious person, you may love it. Such skill and heart. It has brought me through many a dark moment.

Valentine Man

Photo by Fadi Xd on Unsplash

Along the shore of his lake in the city of lakes, he fashions boats from waxed paper, affixes huge tissue heats to the corners, sets candles inside and lights them so that the miniature craft are drawn along on the dark water. Lovers pay fifty cents to see their boats glowing and drifting only to witness their incineration somewhere near the opposite bank, the cinder and ash ascending into the grey twilight, the smell of burnt paper, like kindling that flames and is quickly gone, filling the air, an acrid, comforting smell of home fires and warmth.

No one asks him any questions about the meaning of all of this or how or why he started, nor does he think of it too much. He thinks only of the delicate feel of the tissue, the lightness of the string, the slippery paper smoothed and sealed by wax, the fire on the water, the lovers’ faces as they stare at what they have paid for, prompted by who knows what, fascinated to see what becomes of their boat though they all must know what will be so why do they stay to watch? It is a mystery. Are they sad or satisfied somehow in the justification about their beliefs about tissue and hearts and fire, or had they hoped to see their boat, of all others, land safely on the other side?

Every night a woman who brings him a snack of rice and vegetables wrapped in a tortilla pays him fifty cents to place something small in her boat –  tiny babies from Mardi Gras cakes, bodkins she wore in her hair when she was a girl, pieces of wool from her sewing basket in which she keeps materials to make socks for soldiers, crosses she buys in packets of ten, pieces of kibble. She always has a prayer and dedication which she asks the man to recite though every night he protests he does not have his glasses and every night she gives him her late husband’s readers from the nightstand. As the boat floats out, he says her prayers for the soldiers, the young life, the married couple, the single women, the woman herself and her cat and her grandchildren.

One night, he found himself reading a prayer in which he was the subject. He had set a boat in the water containing a gold heart. He snatched the boat back, soaking his trousers. He retrieved the heart. This is my gig, he said gruffly, as if she had taken something from him. She asked for his blessing upon the heart. She asked him to kiss it. Instead, he chucked it out into the lake with all of his force where it plunked into the dark center and disappeared. They stood for a moment, the frogs screeching in judgment. It’s time to get a move on, he said. People are waiting. Indeed, a line had formed and that was the last night he saw her.

Every night he was hungry for the food she gave him and every night he had nothing to wonder about, what she would put into her boat, how she would ask him to pray, the feel of her late husband’s glasses upon his nose. How he missed that feel, strangely enough, and the strange prayers she had written, not like the coherent prayers he knew, but her erratic thoughts upon a subject, not a petition, but a statement as if she were telling someone how things were. He missed it.

And so he collected things for her, things he thought she would like, things he liked too, things forgotten and dusty in closets, things from childhood and a career and family from another life, and he put them in boats and watched the boats burn and sink with prayers on his lips uttered in a strange tongue, her way of speaking and thinking that had become his way of addressing God. He believed himself capable of finding that gold heart had only there been money for proper equipment and younger lungs. In its depths the dark lake held his gift and he did not mourn but for the first time understood why couples waited until they saw what they knew would come to pass, and that in the waiting they anticipated what was most beautiful, a beginning and an end, all at once.

Mental Health in a Time of Crisis

Day 9 by Jay Reed, flickr

Hello. I’m no doctor or health expert. To say something in this post, anything, I can only take from my own experience and what I have learned from others – live and in person, online and in print, on TV and social media.

I am a person living with bipolar 2 and take a mood stabilizer. I have regular med checks. I have stayed on my medication pretty faithfully for twenty seven years if I am counting correctly. I’ve had some bumps, some difficult decisions to make when I wanted to become pregnant, some times I needed to add another drug for a short time. But I felt it imperative to stay the course. I wouldn’t be here today without good medical care and appropriate and efficacious medication.

Mental health is ranked my number one personal health concern. At times, I have also had to pay particular attention to other issues such as a cancer and diabetes, but without mental health, all the other pieces fall apart.

I have picked up on something which resonates with me, something I learned on youtube the other day, so consider the source, but there was an argument being made that bipolar people are often at greater risk for a compromises to the immune system. What happens in the body in the process of becoming emotionally dysregulated can cause health issues.

This makes sense to me. In a milder sense, when I am wired and maybe not getting as much sleep or I feel stressed all the time, I may start to get a cold or even feel a little feverish or have a headache or body aches. Many people may have these effects when they are unwell mentally. One does not have to have a diagnosis. In older English usage, becoming “ill” in the mental sense often seemed to apply to characters even in a more temporary way. I appreciate that old usage for a mental state that has deteriorated.

Here are some things I have learned from a longtime diagnosis, and living through other disease while I navigate mental illness…Maybe something will be helpful, even if you are not a person with mental illness. This are in no particular order. I just started writing as they came to me and often, when I am just a little edgy, as opposed to really in a bad way, going through these steps more or less in this order, help.

As much as possible, start to unplug from devices when you feel unwell, out of sorts, maybe a little nervy or hyper. This unplugging may not happen all at once and I don’t think it is always necessary or desirable to “unplug” from everything, but make bold efforts to cut back on screen time and television a little at a time, even livestreaming movie channels. Don’t renew certain accounts or subscriptions that tempt you to get hyped up or anxious or have you thinking catastrophically. While you may hold certain beliefs no matter what you do, you do not have to be faced with them all the time and you do not need as much noise, especially not now, when you’re feeling antsy and anxious. Consider going on a social media and television “fast” for a day, or at least a “diet.” (Caveat: Movie-therapy and laughing at comics can promote health!)Try cutting back on the caffeine, if even for just a day or two. This includes chocolate. (Hard to say: I love coffee and chocolate!) But have an herbal tea one morning instead of a coffee, and stay away from even a bit of caffeine the rest of the day, even decaf coffee, which still has caffeine. (Darn it!) If possible, get ready for a nap! You may need it when your body lets down after withdrawal. Or plan on getting more sleep at night. If you tend to get a headache, keep an over the counter medicine handy.As much as possible, get decent sleep. I realize that varies but generally, sleep at night, you know. Ugh. If you have a night job, this comes with all of its own realities but sleep every day is what we need to stay healthy.Do not take recreational drugs or drink alcohol. Someone with diagnosed disease of any sort should probably not take recreational drugs. (And some sad situations have cropped up recently of perfectly healthy people dying from a misrepresentation of a recreational drug. Our current crisis seems to be making way for opportunists, so please be careful.) Alcohol, wine, and beer should be strongly curtailed or cut out.If you have the ability to do so, try adding a bit more fruit and vegetables to your shopping cart, whether in store or by delivery. I’m not cooking quite as much except from cans, or defrosted frozen meats and sweet potatoes, which have a long shelf life. Salads as well. But many of the same vitamins are in fruits and require no cooking, and they are delicious, especially if you are trying to cut out more sugary chocolate and other sweets. Which leads to the next point….Cut out sweets with processed sugar, or other kinds of sugars, including sugar substitutes. This may be hard to do completely, but instead of grabbing for a chocolate or an ice cream, how about a banana or a clementine or a honey crisp. If you miss the richness of desserts, how about brie or gouda for example with an apple and add in some unsalted mixed nuts that are rich in many vitamins and bring that fullness effect. And by the way, super dark chocolate like at 70%-86% cocoa or higher can be good for you in moderation.Try coming up with simple meals you can make at home, even things from cans like tuna, black bean soup, a simple salad. Ordering is out and fun and sometimes a relief, but when money is spent on this, less is available for meals that are simple, easy to make, nutritious, and don’t cost as much. I tend to eat too many calories when I get delivery but a once in a while splurge seems ok, like when I can afford it maybe once a month. Try to keep on hand things that can substitute for a calorically loaded delivery: whole grain taco shells and tortilla chips and other healthy ingredients for Mexican, sprouted flat bread and pizza ingredients as well as pasta and pesto for Italian, pre-formed hamburger and frozen sweet potato waffle fries for American.Take small steps to make healthy changes in your diet. Sometimes, there may be something you have to have, or at least for now. I have learned if I keep tempting things that don’t add nutrients, I may eat those when I feel stressed. Adding in healthier substitutes over time and not stocking less nutritious items helps me feel better and in control.Take a walk around your neighborhood. Likely you will need a mask in case you encounter others or maybe you need to wear it the whole time. But just take a slow walk if you would like, or faster But just be outside, moving. Sometimes sitting outside instead of inside helps as long as you can do so safely. I love my porch. I like closing my eyes and listening to birds or playing music on my earbuds.Try to find a support group that meets on zoom even if you feel self conscious about this, even if you’re unfamiliar with the technology. The technology learning curve was scary for me at first when we were first staying home, but I got through it and I’m so glad I’ve weathered some awkwardness. Sometimes I have to navigate my resources for mental health when it comes to balancing out other aspects of my healthcare as well as just daily living expenses. But having people who can be present with, if only on a screen, does help.Contact a national hotline if things become especially difficult. Plug into mental health outreach organizations and religious organizations. Call your doctor or local hospital. Tell friends or family you are feeling overwhelmed and need help. It is amazing how many people want to help and would help if they just knew who in their life needs help. Not everyone will be able to help with everything but almost everyone has or knows of resources and how to direct you and get you to the help you need.If you have anything extra, give it away. This seems small, but it will help you and others and be sustainable. It doesn’t have to be an item or money. It can be a smile, an expression of concern, a wave, positive feedback, an apology, a word of encouragement. Forgive people in your heart even if they don’t ask for an apology. Give yourself that gift. Give others that gift. And forgive yourself! Laugh when appropriate. It can lift others as well as yourself, if even for a fraction of a second. These things are free and people need them depending on the circumstance. If you’ve overbought out of panic, like me, put some extra supplies outside your door if you live in an apartment for example, such as canned food. Or visit the food bank to donate. Give clothes and books and other things away. Yes, you are helping others. It will help you even more.Try to be open to a wide variety of people. Listen without feeling a need to respond. I sometimes get ingrained in a point of view and then I find that someone close to me believes the opposite and though I am sometimes surprised and maybe even worried about it, I know it means I need to listen to all sorts of news media and learn more about the world through other sources. That way I can be a better friend or relative to those I care for. In this way, we may become more empathetic to others, even those we don’t know, if even just a little, or even a great deal. If you are medication for any condition, and if you are on a medication for your mental health, do everything to try to stay the course with your medication and your health. This can be hard. Sometimes it’s hard financially and/or logistically. But our bodies are delicate systems, and we see that especially now. If you make a mistake with your medications, don’t beat yourself up, get on track as soon as possible. Allow for some time to rest if you are able to. Falling behind or missing medications can cause a kind of dysregulation which affects the system.Don’t take unnecessary risk in terms of exposure to the virus. People who have mental illness will likely have some severe effects after becoming ill. Try to avoid it at all costs. Wear masks, distance, stay home and safe at home, as much as is humanly possible. Even if you have to upset someone in your life because you can’t be in certain environments, it is necessary to set boundaries in order to survive.That being said, do your best not to catastrophize. Who doesn’t fall into this from time to time? But especially for those who are more sensitive in certain ways, this can be a go to in reaction to events. Think, to yourself: Am I in any immediate danger? If you are, do what you can to get out of it. If this is something going on in your emotions and heart and head, begin getting the help you need to help yourself adjust to a more realistic level of perception and response. I get it. I have been there more than I care to admit.

Well, again, I’m not a healthcare professional and so this has all been incredibly imperfect and so much less than comprehensive. But I do worry, yes, about what is happening around us, and I thought I might mention a few things that have helped me, not just now but for a pretty long time. On a positive note, I think those of us who are used to dealing with diagnosed disease and mental illness are in some ways more than adequately equipped to deal with many of the conditions we are currently living through. I wish you well in the coming challenges. Thank you for reading this post and if you are a regular reader of the blog, I thank you. I post a variety of material here, especially recently if you have noticed! Be well.