One of my friends has a term that I have started using too. She says we all need, “Bop Friends.” You know, the kind you can bop around with — people who can send you a text and say, “What are you doing right now? Do you want to ______?”
I think Bop Friends are a special kind of gift.
Well, last night, one of my friends basically created a Bop Party. His spouse, another beloved friend, finished her last ever law school exam, so in her honor, he called a bunch of people together and arranged a party. We all ended up at a local restaurant, and it was hilarious and fun. None of us started our day knowing that this was going to happen, and I loved that. It’s going to lead to more bopping too. Some of us live in the same part of town, and we are now planning potlucks for the summer. We created a group chat so we can go bop walking.
We just magnified all the bop possibilities at the bop party.
Oh, and I got to eat a donut sundae. With bop friends.
Image Description: A gorgeous, crispy donut in peanut sauce with ice cream, whipped cream, and a cherry. I am posing with it and smiling big, wearing a blue dress and blue jacket.
I hope that these images of spring flowers and trees lift your spirits a bit today. One of the best gifts I give myself is the daily rhythm of getting outside and viewing how gorgeous earth is — right here in my own neighborhood. ❤
I am writing my blog post much later than is typical for me. I feel pummeled by the news.
I am concerned, not only about the outcomes, but also the line of argumentation. I feel pummeled by the news.
It seems like preparation (or at least the potential for it) to roll back a large number of rights, and when added together, that could both impact the majority of our population, and each person and community in very particular ways.
I do feel pummeled by the news.
This doesn’t mean all of this will happen. It doesn’t mean that we won’t push back hard. It doesn’t mean we won’t care for each other and keep building a better vision that honors the particularity and diversity of people with a variety of needs.
But this news — the potential outcome and the argumentation — brought my body to fast-track nervous system dysregulation. A trauma response of freeze. And migraines. And exhaustion.
And I realize, if one of the best ways we can care for each other right now, is being safe for each other, one of the best things we can do is try to care for our bodies so that they feel as safe as they can.
I’m doing some work today, but I’m also taking it easy.
And whenever and however you feel pummeled, I hope you will too.
Sometimes, I think about how there is enough — that with collective resolve, and with each person and each community doing what they do best in an organized way, there is enough for people to be free, have what they need, belong, and live and love well.
Sometimes, it takes tremendous risks. Sometimes, it takes nurture and care. Sometimes, it takes vision. Sometimes, it takes following marginalized people. Sometimes, it takes dismantling the margins.
I’m not naive. Things are tough. I woke up this morning, feeling sick for our country as many people fear the loss of a multitude of rights. I just know there are many people out there doing what they can uniquely do — sometimes, the things that only they or their community are in a position to do.
Image Description: A group of lifeguards are standing on a beach in a circle.Public domain image.
Some people really had my back in a community setting recently, and it meant so much to me.
Whether we are the ones supporting, or whether we are the one being supported, we should never underestimate the ways that solidarity and intentional care can impact our bodies, creating greater safety, a sense of being at ease, and a feeling of being loved.
Image Description: A green chameleon, perched on a branch.
When I was a child, we used to all tease my grandfather for constantly watching the Discovery Channel. He would watch all of these nature shows, typically with some person commentating on what various animals were doing. My grandfather died in the late 90s, and in all honesty, it’s been so long since I’ve thought about his daily habits of watching these shows.
In 2022, without ever thinking of those early memories, I started a personal rhythm. I call it, “Uninterrupted Nature Time.” Each morning, I take 15 to 20 minutes to watch a portion of a nature documentary, usually over breakfast. It’s uninterrupted because it’s one definite part of the day where I’m not distracted by tasks, texting people, or doing anything else. It’s 15 to 20 minutes of learning fun facts about nature, and it usually brings me a sense of wonder. It’s a part of my rhythms in getting ready for each day, and I’m glad for it.
A few days ago, I thought about Papaw, and I enjoyed that we share this connection. I would dearly love to watch a nature show with him as an adult. I remember that he would often have his own side commentary, and I think it would be absolutely hilarious to experience that now. And I’d also like to add my voice to the mix.
This post is an ode to my very beloved, very faithful, very long running car. After 25 years of longevity, Eleanor, my 1997 Toyota Camry, stopped running for good. She drove the distance to the moon — 240,000 miles — and was steadily on her way back, until at 285,013 miles, she could go no longer.
I couple of Thursdays ago, I enjoyed watching the odometer roll over to 285,000 miles. I felt so proud of her. This is the car of my entire adulthood. She began her life as the car of Eleanor Roederer, a relative, and when that Eleanor could no longer drive, she sold the car to me at a low price. I was 21 years old at the time. And when Eleanor Roederer died, I lovingly nicknamed my car after her. Just like her namesake, this car lived a long, long life.
This was my car when I lived in five different states — Indiana, Kentucky Texas, California, and Michigan.
This car drove me to each of those moves too, and so in a sense, this car introduced me to just about everyone I know. This car has gone on road trips. In her last years, I especially enjoyed driving her around various places in Michigan, simply to go exploring. This is, after all, a gorgeous state. This car also took me around the state to all the annual Strolls for Epilepsy, sponsored by my workplace at the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan. This car drove to innumerable errands. She was very familiar with all my favorite grocery stores, especially Trader Joe’s. In her longevity, she received many oil changes, in recent years at Uncle Ed’s Oil Shoppe (I highly recommend them). She was repaired a number of times at Ron’s Garage (I highly recommend them), and she currently resides there until she will be donated to Michigan Radio in a matter of days.
On Tuesday this week, I went to clean the car out, and I sat inside her for the last time and cried. I thanked her with so much gratitude. A 25 year old car that you’ve had in five states over your whole adulthood throughout so many life stages? That is a special gift. I thought through lots of wonderful memories. Besides the house I grew up in and the house I live in now, I have spent more time in this structure than any other. She was a very good girl, and I love her.
So there it is. I will have a new car (I don’t have it yet) and that will be fun and meaningful with exciting, new features. (A backup camera!) There will be no cassette player. That glory belongs only to Eleanor. I hope the next car will be just as faithful.
But for today, I will say that this car was truly glorious in every way. What a gift. Godspeed!
Image Description: The logo for COPE. Dark blue background, white and orange text. “COPE | The Cost of Poverty Experience” and “thinktank-inc.org/cope”
In order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be able to delve into difficulty.
This week, I’ve been attending the annual conference of the Public Health Institute, and as part of our time together, we participated in an session entitled COPE (Cost of Poverty Experience), led by ThinkTank-Inc. In this, we learned some challenging statistics. I’d like to share some of those today.
— It takes 112 minimum wage working hours to afford housing at 30% of your income. This doesn’t involve purchasing a house, but instead, affording to rent a two bedroom apartment.
— Before the pandemic began, 1 in 8 children were experiencing food insecurity. Now, after entering the pandemic, that number is between 1 in 4 and 1 in 5.
— 60% of inmates in U.S. jails have not been convicted of a crime. They are awaiting trial and cannot afford cash bail.
— When it comes to a wealth gap, on average, White households have 8 times more wealth than Black households. On average, White households have 5 times more wealth than Hispanic households.
— 24% of workers, roughly 33.6 million people, do not have any sick leave.
These are statistics, but these realities impact human lives. These experiences are a part of our wider community, and they impact physical health, mental health, and relational health. In order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be able to delve into difficulty. And in in order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be in relationship with people who experience these realities and follow their leadership and expertise.
Image Description: Gray, carry-on size, rolling luggage.
A while back, I shared here about my year of surprises in 2022. For my milestone birthday this year, I asked my loved ones to pick a random month of the year and surprise me with something during that time. I shared that these things don’t need to be big or monumental. Some of my favorites so far have been surprise meals and surprise outings.
But then yesterday, I received a suitcase. It’s a brand new suitcase, delivered to my door from states away thanks to the kindness of one very favorite people. And I needed one too! The handle of my previous, carry-on rolly was damaged after many years of use.
So now I have a nice new one!
And I just absolutely loved how unexpected it was. Now I have an April suitcase!
Smuggling Grace 