Planner Friday: True Colors

Well, so, November happened.

That’s all I have to say about that.

Last week I defaulted to a theme I already had made but hadn’t used, keeping with the unintentional monthlong monochrome metatheme:  Pink!

It’s known to a select few (and now all of you) that I hate pastels, and most of my life have detested pink, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve had to admit there are some shades I actually do love, preferably combined with black and covered with skulls.

nov21-27

For this week, heading into the new month with absolutely zero holiday spirit (even less than usual, gee I wonder why), I decided to ask myself a deep question:  What can brown do for me?

nov28-dec4

As usual, you won’t be seeing a lot of Santas and Christmas trees in my planner; to me Christmas is like that band Twenty-One Pilots – hugely popular in the mainstream, kind of ubiquitous, but tends to make me stabbity unless I’ve been drinking.  Thus I’m not sure what sort of themes I’ll be doing this month, though I’ll try to keep the Grinching to a minimum.

 

 

“Vegan Pagan’s Prayer” in a Lovely New Anthology

For those of you who have been longtime fans of my “Vegan Pagan’s Prayer,”  I’m pleased to announce it appears in this wonderful new anthology:

product_thumbnail

Even in My Dreams:  A Collection of Vegan Poems

‘Even in my dreams – a collection of vegan poems’ is one of the first anthologies of its kind.

With entries from over 30 vegan poets from around the world, this book allows you to explore the full spectrum of emotions experienced as a vegan. There are poems that speak with joy, sadness, despair, horror, frustration, confusion, triumph, hope, gratitude, humour and sarcasm.

“A beautiful volume of always touching, sometimes funny, and invariably accessible poems about why animals matter and why vegans stand up for them.” – Victoria Moran, author, podcaster, and Academy director: Main Street Vegan.

All profits from this book go towards the Barefoot Vegan Farm & Animal Sanctuary – BarefootVeganFarm.com

I’ve enjoyed every issue of Barefoot Vegan that I’ve read, and I highly recommend it – it’s got a more spiritual, not strictly food-focused focus than most other veg mags.  (Not that there’s anything wrong with food! Just sometimes I want to hear more about the mental, emotional, social, and spiritual aspects of living an ahimsa-loving life.)

Profits from the anthology as well as magazine sales directly benefit the Barefoot Vegan Sanctuary, a recently-established home for animals located in France.  They’re just getting off the ground and every book helps more rescued critters find a peaceful, safe home!

If you’re a fan of mine who’s also veg-conscious, I’ve also written for another anthology, Call to Compassion: Religious Perspectives on Animal Advocacy.  Be sure and check it out too.

…because I needed another challenge

Well, I’ve officially been wandering around in this person suit for 39 years.

39 nine is kind of a dumb number, as far as significant birthdays go, but 40 had a certain weight to it – socially if nothing else.  Therefore I’ve decided to undertake what I hope will be a fun project – 40 Things to Do by my 40th Birthday, or to use the groovy parlance of today’s hip modern youth, #40by40.

I worked on the list for quite a while, and I’ve designated a notebook for it (naturally).  It’s just a regular old Moleskine Cahier notebook I covered with decorative paper and drew a title on with my white gel pen.  I seem to be going with a celestial sort of theme for 2017 for some reason, and I had a scrap of paper a friend sent me long long ago, so it became the cover.

40by40ext

The plan is this:

Each time I complete a task, I’ll create a page (or half page) for it and write, draw, or paste in mementos from the experience.  It won’t have to go in order from 1-40, as I can just record the number of whatever page the task falls on.  That way I’ll have a memento of what I hope will be a much, much better year not just for me but for the entire damn planet.

I also plan to post here on the blog about each task so you can follow along if you like – hell, come up with your own list for 2017 (of whatever number you deem appropriate for you) and tell me all about it on Instagram.

I tried to make the list using only doable items that are finite in nature – nothing like “meditate every day” or “eat more vegetables.”  I wanted the list items to stretch my comfort zone a bit but still be things I’d enjoy doing or at least benefit from in some way.  I also instituted a few rules:

1 – I can change an item if the one I had becomes impossible.  For example, if a restaurant I want to visit closes down, I can take it off the list, but I have to replace it with something comparable.

2 – I get two freebies I can chuck for any reason at all including realizing six months from now that I don’t want to do that thing anymore, but I have to replace them as well.

3 – I have to blog about and make a notebook page for each item.

Here we go:

40by401

40by402

 

40 Things to Do By My 40th Birthday

  1. Finish Shadow Rising
  2. Do Vegan MoFo
  3. Volunteer at VegFest 2017
  4. Go see a play
  5. Have a badass Halloween costume
  6. Get another tattoo
  7. Start a new novel
  8. See some live music
  9. Dye my hair a crazy color
  10. Take a class
  11. Do a fun manicure
  12. Shop at Rabbit Food Grocery
  13. Eat at Counter Culture
  14. Go to Capital City Bakery
  15. Find a home for The Coat
  16. Throw a theme party
  17. Make seitan from scratch
  18. Go watch the bats
  19. Paint a picture
  20. Make something with aquafaba
  21. Make a new vegan friend
  22. Go to two Alamo Drafthouse events
  23. Put out a new ebook
  24. Pet a cow
  25. Try a new recipe every month
  26. Read 10 novels
  27. Get Stella’s bump fixed
  28. Save up $500
  29. Figure out my tax stuff
  30. Hold a group ritual
  31. Do a swap with someone
  32. Try a new cuisine
  33. Do a research project
  34. Discover a new musical artist
  35. Find the right day bag
  36. Finish Song & Cipher
  37. Illustrate a quote a la Vicki P
  38. Listen to the Hamilton soundtrack
  39. Do some sort of 30 day challenge
  40. Donate at least $50 a month

Planner Friday: Everything is Normal…Yeah.

Well, Plum Paper got me for another year – I just ordered my 2017 planner, just like my 2016 only with fewer added sections.  I realized I’d rather create my own checklists and such than use premade ones, so I just got a bunch of note pages in the back.

I am, however, ordering a custom planner cover from Erin Condren; you’ll certainly see it when it gets here.  I’m rather in love with the design I came up with.

Since last week the last thing I felt like doing was posting about planners, here are two weeks’ worth of themes.  Last week was pretty simple, just another Autumn theme that was sort of “fallen leaves and books” based.

This week was all about purple.  I’ve done a purple theme before but I loved this one soooooo much.  I can tell I’ve done it right when I enjoy opening my planner and just looking at the pages, and writing in my to-do list is a pleasure rather than a chore.

I thought about doing something political, but decided that was the last thing I wanted to stare at all week.  Maybe later when it doesn’t sting quite so much.

nov-7-13

nov-14-20

In Which the Author Loses Her Sh*t a Little Bit

Sorry, this is not Planner Friday.  At the moment I just can’t.

I know that the last thing we should do is stop living our lives and seeking joy, but before I can return to things that mattered to me before this week, I have to give myself time and space to come to terms – as much as that’s possible.

I kept thinking, “How can I add anything to what’s already been said in such splendid depth by so many who are clearer thinkers and better writers than I?”  But then I realized it’s not about saying something new, it’s about speaking up even if your voice is hoarse and brittle or barely a squeak.  The more voices cry out in this darkness, the less alone we feel.

This year has been full of death, but without that “life continues cycle of blah blah blah” feeling we all try to find amid loss.  When I think of this year I don’t think of natural cycles, or of death giving way to rebirth.  I just see the abyss.

I’ve come to feel like God is playing a five-year game of “He loves me, he loves me not” with the petals of my beliefs and aspirations, and where even a year ago I might have had faith that the last petal would be “loves,” right now I’m having a hard time not finding that faith childish and kind of insane.  2016 has been the longest, most grueling mother of all heartfucks for all of us.  Month after month 2016 has swallowed more and more wonderful people, and now it has swallowed the last, most precious illusion I think many of us were clinging to:  that America is “better than that.”

Shaun King is compiling reports of all the hate crimes and attacks that have happened in the last few days, and they’ve already topped 3,000.  Children being told they should “sit at the back of the bus now” or having “build the wall!” chanted at them.  People ripping off women’s hijabs.

At least 10 police officers have been shot this week – all by white people.  Did you hear about that on the news?  I bet not.

There are lists popping up all over Facebook of “things to do before January” that include seeing the doctor, stocking up on Plan B (and hormones for trans folks), and taking self-defense classes.

At least eight trans kids killed themselves Tuesday night.  I forget, how many straight white kids committed suicide after Obama’s election?  Because people are saying we’re just bitter our candidate lost, but I don’t recall much of a body count last time theirs lost.

I am heartsick and ashamed that this is America.  And make no mistake, it very much is.  I’ve lived in this kind of world my whole life – Austin may seem like a liberal oasis, but there are plenty of bigots here, and I grew up in a state full of them.

Okay, so, this isn’t “all Conservatives.”  Well then where are the decent Conservatives denouncing all of this?  Where is their great orange savior’s call to peace?  Why would he bother?  He’s busy getting ready to appoint a completely daft Creationist Secretary of Education.  He’s forcing a man whose citizenship he questioned for years to meet with him – to sit down with a man backed by the KKK and, I dunno, teach him how a bill becomes law?  How to use the White House phone to dial out?  If not all Conservatives are racist, what does it say about them that they voted for one – that sexual assault and misogyny and homophobia and racism were something they could overlook?  “Hey man, I know he treats women like garbage and is cool with white supremacists, but compared to questionable judgment with emails, it’s no big thing!”  Maybe they’re not all racists, but they were more than happy to throw POC and women and Muslims and Latinos and LGBT folk under the bus to serve their own interests.  That doesn’t exactly encourage me to “build bridges.”  If I were to see a hand reach toward me across the aisle, I wouldn’t assume it was a gesture of goodwill or cooperation – I’d assume the other hand was holding the knife.

The only thing I can think is that people who believe this is no big deal, that we’re all overreacting, are people who don’t have much to lose to this administration.  Why worry about discrimination that will never touch you?

In case you can’t tell, I’m pissed the fuck off.  And I’m despairing.  I want to “stand and fight,” but I don’t know how to do that.  I’ll figure out what that means for me once my rage and anguish calm down enough for me to think clearly.  But right now, fuck “mending fences.”  Fuck “reaching across the aisle.”  You want me to play nice with people who think I and most of the people I love are less than human?  Are you serious?  

If a lover treated me without respect, abused and belittled me, would you expect me to turn around and offer reconciliation before a week had gone by?  Well how about if HALF THE FUCKING COUNTRY DID IT?

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s all right if you’re not all right.  You can be angry.  You can be gutted and scared.  I’m all of those things and I’m not getting better yet.  That’s okay.  If you’re numb, if you’re laughing to keep from sobbing, if you’re sobbing, if you’re curled up in your blanket fort, if you’re protesting, if you’re mainlining episodes of Friends and pints of Ben & Jerry’s – those are all totally understandable reactions to something we believed unthinkable.

Do what you have to do in the next few days to get your feet back under you.  If you need to get off the internet, do it.  God knows it wouldn’t hurt given the unending litany of bad news.  Go outside, sit among trees.  Snuggle your animals or your children.  Deck out that blanket fort in high style.  Smoke a ridiculous amount of weed.

We all grieve in our own way, and that’s exactly what we’re all doing.  Even though the America we want to believe in never really existed any more than the “idyllic” Conservative Great America ever did, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to mourn.  There is a whole world of pain coming our way in the next four years, assuming the leader of the Free World isn’t convicted of child rape or fraud…or if that even matters, because one thing’s become blisteringly obvious this week: a man can be forgiven for anything and a woman for nothing, ever.  I saw that sentiment on Twitter and broke down in tears of recognition…one of the many spates of tears I’ve had this week.  I can’t seem to stop crying, and it’s extra embarrassing because I’m a white woman, and 52% of white women voted for that predatory bigot.  White privilege is more important to women than their own bodies and lives.  How can I not cry about that?  But moreover I cry for my friends whose rights stand to be shoved back decades, whose healthcare will vanish, who could be victimized at any time because they’re not white.

I know, I know.  There’s hope.  Of course there is.  As you can see, I’m bouncing among panic, rage, and howling sadness.  I have to believe that my warrior instincts will kick in and I’ll be ready to step up and stand with my friends and fans who have so, so much more to lose than I do in all this.  I feel like a self-indulgent jerk being so devastated when I have the greatest of all undeserved benefits:  white privilege.  But while I fear for my own liberty, I am petrified for those I love.  And I’m not naive enough to think that if the dominos begin to fall they won’t land on me eventually.  I am, after all, still a woman.

I’m sorry to have heart-barfed all over you today.  I wanted to come here and write something inspiring, something to arouse hope rather than wallowing in fear.  But I’ve never been one for blowing sunshine up your ass – if I don’t feel it, I can’t in good conscience write it.  In the coming days we will need each other more than ever, and we will need good writing and humor and poetry and music and art more than ever.  We will need to remember to love…even if our trust is permanently shattered.

I will get myself together and I will do whatever is in my power to keep safe the progress we’ve made in the last eight years, or at least to keep safe those whose lives and rights are on the chopping block.  I will not give up.  But I’m not okay.  And if you aren’t either, you aren’t alone.

 

Scroll To Top