We fought. OK, we can call it a passionate argument, but that’s just one level below a fight. I’m not telling you who, because this is a person close to me, someone with whom in the many years we’ve related we’ve never had anything but a brief exchange of harsh words that was immediately forgotten. And I don’t want their politics or any of their positions in life known after this. But we got to a new, ugly place yesterday.
I read the first post I wrote on this blog the other day, fascinated by how things have changed back then. My tone was wistful, hopeful, and I remember how scared I truly was to start a new life. I feel like Past me was so innocent, naïve, even. Did I really know how hard it all would be? Was I aware of how much I truly would have to go through to get what I want –and how much trials I would still have to endure?
Of course, I understand that it is the frustration that is speaking. We are infinitely luckier than most. We still have a roof over our heads, dozens of caring people, good health. Which in this endless punching bag of a year is a true blessing.
Oh, but then this endless punching bag of a year happened.
It seems wrong, almost selfish, to complain about the pandemic when over 200,000 Americans and a million people worldwide have died. Like I said, in our house, there hasn’t been so much as a sneeze. We have taken every precaution possible because Y. is immuno-compromised: since she had her gastric bypass, her iron has dropped dramatically and that affects her immune system. Also D. goes to a very small private school where there is minimum contact between the (only ten) students. And I touch no one until I take a shower immediately after I get home.
But, oh, this administration… God DAMN it.
I never liked Trump. Never. Yes, I laughed when I saw the SNL skits and the cameos in movies, but never saw The Apprentice. And when I heard him speak as a politician for the first time –that whole “birther” thing– I only heard an American Hugo Chávez. And I’m certainly not the only one, no matter how different their backgrounds are or how they approach certain policies. Chávez was a loud-mouthed populist who saw his opponents as enemies and refused to accept any criticism, plus demanding nothing but loyalty from his followers. Sound familiar? It makes me sick to my stomach that most Venezuelans here in Florida think he is the next coming of Christ; we have learned nothing of the strongmen in our lives, since we are quick to support another one. Yes, Obama did very little for Venezuela, something I will never forgive him, as much as I admire him, but I refuse to endorse a man like Trump for anything.
And now back to the pandemic. The mismanagement the Trump administration has had for the COVID-19 pandemic is a humanitarian catastrophe. Downplaying from the beginning as he himself admitted to journalist Bob Woodward (and by the way, what the actual f*ck, Bob?). Contradicting every expert over and over again. The insane conspiracy theories and even insaner “solutions” that has literally gotten people killed.
And now it begins to touch us in very real and personal ways.
Y. has been on furlough since April 15. I don’t know whether to put here where she works since I don’t recall saying it here, and I don’t know how comfortable she would be if I did. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t mind, but still. In any case, the company –a BIG company– just announced it had no choice but to start laying off people. It’s nothing new, but it’s a direct consequence of the pandemic and the absolute shitshow both the federal and Florida government have made in handling the crisis (Ron DeSantis, Florida governor, have you lost your goddamn mind?!). We are worse than freaking Mongolia. And don’t get me started on New Zealand.
And don’t give the spiel about “oh but that’s a smaller country”. NO. I will not have it. Mongolia listened to the experts, acted quickly, acted responsibly, and as of today the maximum cases it had was 56. Right now? ZERO. As in none. And how are we doing, in the meantime? Close to 37,000 new ones.
I hate it. I hate the whole goddamn thing. And there’s nothing I can do about it except… keep on trucking. Oh and of course I’m voting. Oh hell yes I’m voting.
What I hate is that once again, I’m voting for the lesser of two evils. Because I’ll be damned if I vote for Trump, but I see Biden with a deep distrust. yes, he is the civil face against Trump’s barely-hidden bullying. But he seems so out of it, so feeble. Is that why they picked a relatively younger woman –albeit an extremely prepared, extremely charismatic one– as his running mate? In the off chance he’ll be unable to end his term and she’ll take over? We should be so lucky.
It has been a shitty year. And I feel it’ll get worse before it gets better. But hey, this is where I turn to the Stoics. I started following the philosophy some four years ago, maybe more, and I discovered the writings of Ryan Holiday and the Daily Stoic site, where they send an email every day with teachings from Stoicism for daily life. As I paused, seething, writing this, I found one from five days ago, titled “It’s Ok To Get Mad, Just Don’t Be Angry”. It ends:
Being mad is a reaction. Anger is a state of mind. One is outside our control. The other is something we choose—a weakness we give into and accept. (…) This moment, just like a scary moment, requires all our resources. We cannot afford to give into anger, just as we cannot afford to give into fear. No, we need to be alert. Aware. Rational. In control of ourselves. So we can survive. So we can learn. So we can enjoy happiness in the present moment. So we can make sure this never happens again.
Daily Stoic, September 25, 2020. Links from original article.
“Anger is a state of mind”. So true. We can’t chose to be angry all the time. It would stain our eyes with hatred, block us from enjoying what good things we have. The fact that we are still alive, breathing, healthy, means that we still have the means to fight and prepare for another day. And that’s what we’re doing: getting ready for the worst outcome, to make the best of it.
But getting mad? Oh that’s natural. And that’s why I write. So I can let it out and keep on truckin’.
There are so many things in the world that matter, and if we look closely enough, we find the things that speak to our own unique spirits — these are the things that speak to me. This is what matter to me today.