Elissa Stein's Blog, page 6

technology

It was a crazy day. 
My little one has been sick and thankfully we both got negative COVID test results back today. 
It’s unnerving to be sick right now. It’s unnerving to be living with a sick person right now. It’s hard to wear a mask outside all the time and then need to wear one inside as well. Breathing gets hard. But that’s not what this is about.
After two days of not eating the little one was finally hungry until I went in search of his favorite sandwich. I walked 10 blocks and realized, as I was approaching the store, that I forgot to bring money or credit cards with me. But, I was able to pay with my phone and I thanked the lovely man behind the counter who explained it all to me for helping me into the 21st-century. After that I headed back downtown, ready to stop off for my daily hot chocolate fix, a habit I give up regularly but then succumb to again.
I had deleted my Starbucks app years ago and thought, oh! I have no money but I can pay with the Starbucks app. Problem was, after several attempts to get in and having to reset my password, there wasn’t enough money left in the app to buy anything. I had to figure out how to add more money - couldn’t find anything in the redesigned app - only turns out the credit card attached to my account had expired. And, in the new app everything is based on facial recognition, which doesn’t work when you are wearing a mask. I was trying to do all this on crowded streets while walking to the shop. Oh and my fingers were freezing which made it hard to type. Technology came make things so damn hard when it’s supposed to make things easy breezy. 
Sigh. In fact I had to sigh again as I wrote all that. 
But, I got my hot chocolate, know mostly how to use Apple Pay, have a stash of cyber cash in my Starbucks account and my little one is feeling a whole bit better. 

waiting

In some ways waiting is the hardest part. 

For me worrying and waiting are inextricably intertwined. No matter how much I grow or change, how strong I feel, in that waiting space it can be a challenge to hold onto the light or even just be present when the here and now feels pretty ok.

I'm not a follower of solstices but today is one and my brilliant yoga teacher this morning talked about knowing the light is coming even on the darkest days.

Knowing the light is coming, even on the darkest days. 

After darkness comes light. 

There is balance in the force. 

Ok maybe that one was a little silly but maybe not. There is balance and sometimes when things are overwhelming and jumbled and too much, holding onto the temporary-ness of it all can be a switch flipper. 

Today I'm waiting on a whole bunch of things. Most immediate is a COVID test for someone near and dear and one for me. It's masks and solitude until there's news. My hands are cracking from washing them so much. I can't completely feel my feet since I'm leaving my windows as open as I can stand. I'm staying as busy as possible so as not to dwell and flirt with panic. And below all that I'm hoping. And maybe, just maybe, beyond that I'm watching and knowing it'll be ok no matter what it is.

looking forward and back

I'm staring down creating a Statue of Liberty crown for an upcoming action I'm organizing. It's all a bit exciting and daunting as I'm tackling things I've never done before—that's been a theme since the 2016 election and as I've been researching patterns and materials and figuring out how to pull this off I've also been thinking about how my life has changed in the 45 era:

I went to my first protest.

I started Trump Puppet Theater and created visuals I shared online for months. By the end videos were getting thousands of views and shares. 

I created the SHAME CAMPAIGN and sent tons of postcards to deserving government officials along with others who wrote with me.

I joined my very first Democratic club.

I ran for executive committee and served for 2 years.

I joined county committee and was elected secretary of my assembly district.

I ran for District Leader and lost by a vote.

I co-hosted a weekly online show called Real Politics: the TV Show.

I collated info and sent out a weekly newsletter with info about protests and actions around the city.

I spent a chunk of time with Rise and Resist, on their comms committee and their emergency decision making committee, working on their signage, website, and merch.

I discovered Sing Out, Louise! and am so exceedingly grateful to co-run things. It's the place where my organizational and styling skills come together. I've even written a few songs.

I've sung with SOL in front of the Supreme Court, the White House, locations all over NYC, the 92nd Street Y, on Sirius XM. 

I've marched at Pride, the Dyke March, March for our Lives, the Science March, the Women's March (and sang at most of those too).

I've been a Human Being with Gays Against Guns at multiple actions.

I run facebook groups and instagram accounts.

I was on the steering committee of a local activist group protecting neighborhood rights. 

I've been interviewed on TV, on the radio, in print.

I've text banked and post carded and stood on street corners canvassing. 

I've gotten to know local politicians.

I've made more buttons and t-shirts than I ever could have imagined. 

Some of that work is now part of the collection of the New York Historical Society.

I launched a PSA Etsy shop.

I've met the most extraordinary people. 

With this new project I started writing - something I mostly haven't done in my activist life. This new action is with an ad hoc group that I helped start. And to help shape something from the beginning that isn't a sing along is new too.

The past 4 years have been worse than the horror I imagined in 2016 and I envisioned some pretty heinous stuff. But, silver lining, it forced me to stretch and grow and speak up and learn how to fight, all things that are now part of my sparkly* arsenal.

*sequins and glam as every day wear is new too.

a moment of moderation

 Today I planned to write about moderation.

Then I spent almost 2 hours singing outside on a cold NYC day.

I made FUCK 2020 AND REPUBLICANS buttons and mailed them to bunches of people.

I sewed masks until my bobbin was empty.

I answered countless work emails.

I spent timing planning a super cool action for next week.

I walked dogs, went shopping, went out to outside dinner, talked on the phone, texted lots of people, organized laundry, and kind of cleaned my desk.

I'm about to hop on my exercise bike with my new heart rate monitor and hoping my knees won't ache too much.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day to to contemplate moderation.

glitter on the inside

A quick summary of the past few days. I:

felt glimmers of writing againbattled internally about whether or not it was a good ideawas locked out of my old blog on Safari (took awhile to figure that bit out)decided to start something newpolled friends on facebook about name possibilities spent WAY TOO LONG figuring out how to set things upspent even longer putting together a header I was happy withconsulted with a witch who told me I should be writing posted my first post almost didn't write my secondsomeone asked why I didn't just stick with my original blog and keep writing therewhich was a totally valid point and so here I am, again 

Glitter on the Inside is a lovely name. Perhaps I'll use it for something else one day. Naming things is always my first step in a project. It felt good and also sort of scary to be thinking about creating this way again. I've had enough space and deep breathing in the years when I careened from project to project, too busy and overwhelmed back then to find balance or space or calm. The edge of too much was my uncomfortable comfort zone and I have zero desire to go back there. So, as I said in my exceedingly short lived blog before I came back here: baby steps.  

 

now that I’m not a writer

It’s been a long time since I felt like a writer. Many books and pieces and blog posts later, after finally feeling comfortable and then embracing the writing side of me, I stopped.

It wasn’t for a particular reason.

I’ve been immersed in different ways and words haven’t been as necessary to keep me balanced, to express my feelings, there wasn’t a need to make as definitive statement to the world, and I guess, to me, that I had things to say.

Having said that, I’ve been talking and thinking about not writing and it seems all that energy about not doing it perhaps means that I should be writing again. So many interesting things are going on: cool projects, awesome people, frustrating politics, kids growing up and out, parents needing taking care of, messy fights for what I believe in, figuring out what’s next . . . the usual stuff.

So I thought I’d come back here, to untangle the complicated strands that are my day to day and share some of them out into the world.

Words matter. Getting them out and letting them go is such a practice. Deep breath. Here I go.

huffpost

Yesterday I got an email letting me know that I was no longer a contributor to Huffington Post. It didn’t look like anything special. In fact I almost threw it away. But I clicked and found that an eight year outlet where I could voice my thoughts, concerns, and ideas was gone.

Door slammed.

I hadn’t written there in a while. While I immersed myself in activism and local politics for the past year, my writing voice has been stifled by all that’s going on. The words haven’t been there. Still a long time option gone is sad.

Change.

Sigh.

Should anyone be interested in the things I used to write about, I thought I post my catalog of musings here:

https://m.huffpost.com/us/author/elissa-652

blocks

It’s been a while since I’ve written here. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve written anywhere. Writing used to be my salvation, my way of coping, a place to process what was going on in my head, my heart and in the world.

Not these days.

Perhaps too much is going on. The country is a mess. The world seems to be falling apart in too many ways. I’ve got family situations that are both overwhelming and chronic wearing on my soul. It almost feels like examining any of it too closely would open floodgates and then I don’t know what I would do because I don’t know that I’d be able to close them.

And so I waste time on social media. I start lots of books that I don’t finish. There are endless knitting projects languishing in my closet. I don’t cook. My social life has scaled way back. I haven’t been able to dedicate myself to anyone thing for a while.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever will be able to do that again. To find something I feel so deeply about I’m compelled to push through to see how far I can go. I don’t know. I may never know. But I’m hoping that writing about writer’s block will hopefully chip away at this wall so that I can figure out what I should be writing about again.

quiet

Quiet.

Frozen.

Reduced.

Diminished.

Feelings and demeanors that have become a second skin. Words often escape me. Passion burns far less bright . Drive and depth, integrity and soul damped down to this place of small, of hiding, of bland.

Don't know when or how my voice and heart will return. Don't have much of a silver lining about it today. But perhaps there will be one later.

broken

I want to be able to fix everything.

But sometimes I can't.

I wish I could make things better, take away pain, solve problems, bring things to a better place.

But it doesn't always work that way. In fact, it generally doesn't.

Sitting in unknown, waiting, hoping, worrying, dealing is all I've got right now.

And damn, it's hard.