creativity, personal, philosophy, psychology, spirituality

I’m going to act like I posted this before midnight

It has been almost three weeks since I have posted anything on this blog. During that time…there has been a lot happening. Not all of it am I prepared to share my innermost thoughts on, nor do I see an immediate tangible benefit to doing so. Because I’ve been like this for a few weeks…I’ve had something of a hesitance to write online.

It’s fairly obvious why I would feel some relief right now. Not enough to feel entirely safe, given the ugly and dangerous reality of the wider circumstances, but somewhat better. In particular, I felt better today. Of course. It was a dose of sanity. Of hope. A reset to the idea of rightness; that it could exist, that it did exist.

Of course, to mirror but reverse an idea from the Dao De Jing that has come up on my Reader: if you can see wrongness, you create rightness.

I haven’t felt totally safe since elementary school, to let you know. I have heard that this is a mental abnormality: that it is “normal” to feel safe in this world; that the feeling of the world not being a safe place…apparently ideally shouldn’t happen. But the world is the world, and to me the bare fact is that living in the world isn’t safe, and probably never has been safe. That safety is an illusion granted by privilege. The most apparent alternative to living in the world is being dead, however, and so you take what you can get.

About a week ago, I set an intention to focus just on self-care: cooking, eating, sleeping, exercise, and hygiene. To my surprise, after I set that intention…I gained the energy and motivation to work on my crafts. And not, you know, deride them as “just” crafts. They are crafts. But they’re elevated, now. I know I’m using quality materials. I know what I create has value. I know my workmanship and responsibility is sound. I know I’m not wasting my time. I know that just because a lot of women do it, that doesn’t make it trivial. The approach is different.

At first, it was just working on the face masks. I found a tutorial by Marcy Harriell (see below) which I’ve successfully altered to fit my face (at least), and…well, I’ve been waiting for a mandatory mask order to come down. It’s not like anyone’s going anywhere anytime soon anyway, but anyhow…it’s nice to be prepared.

(You see what I did there.)

Face mask tutorial by Marcy Harriell, as it has been passed along like a game of Telephone, through the Interwebs…

That, again, was why I had set my intention on being more active in our cooking. My being incompletely capable of taking care of myself was just adding an extra layer of stress to the Corona pandemic plus rule-by-meme. So…the thing I can do about that, is participate. And learn.

I’m pretty good at learning, after all.

The other thing I’ve been doing, aside from research on dealing with this whole potential self-employment thing — and washing my hands too much — is working with seed beads. I still don’t know why I love little glass beads so much. They don’t have a lot of intrinsic value…but they are pretty.

And I really don’t know why I place value on aesthetic pleasure. It…makes no logical sense to me. Aesthetic pleasure, period, doesn’t make sense to me. But maybe that’s just my left brain not understanding what my right brain is doing. My right brain has a mind of its own, however, and my left brain has never been able to completely crush it.

What I do know is that the art of making things is probably a core, fundamental trait of humanity. We live with the culmination of the accumulation of knowledge and technology that has been passed down to us over the ages. In that way, we’re incredibly lucky and privileged.

In the same way…have we forgotten our wisdom?

The development seems to go: data is the source of information; information is the source of knowledge; knowledge is the source of wisdom. (I don’t know where experience factors in there; it wasn’t so much on the plate in my Information Science program.) I forget who hypothesized this. However, it’s very clear what happens when the train is hijacked so that information is proposed which is based on biased, unclear, deliberately obfuscated, or no data…and people run with it.

I am constantly surprised, both in myself and in others, how much we tend to trust that the information which comes to us is fundamentally sound. For me, this is especially in regard to books. I still remember reading a Physical Anthropology text in High School which I assumed was true because I found it in my school library and I thought that I could trust that what was written — and what was in the library — was based on sound knowledge.

It wasn’t until much later that I learned that it was not a good idea to trust information in books just because of the manner of delivery of the message. Nor was it a good idea to trust information in the library just because it was in the library. There are reasons not to trust old Physical Anthropology texts. Primarily because they tended to forward the myth that 1) there were, “races,” 2) that some, “races,” were superior to others based on form, 3) that different, “races,” were intrinsically different in some way which explained what could alternately be explained by, a) culture, and, b) a legacy of structural and institutional racism — or, a history of treating people categorically differently based on their appearances.

(Which, by the way, also implicates sexism. But due to length, that’s probably another entry.)

These are things that even today we have a hard time arguing against, because everyone has been taught this. (Not to say that everyone believes it.) It is part of what Sociology understands as, “hegemony,” or the currently-accepted view of the world which holds in place its underlying power structures.

Of course, though, my school library wasn’t quite good enough to teach us about Intellectual Freedom and the idea that, “the solution to a bad book is a good book.” That American libraries lean away from censorship, in general; that, “the books on the shelves should be at war with each other.” That it was the reader’s task, not the library’s, to decide what they would accept and what they would reject. That it’s good to operate on the premise that no author is unbiased (after all, they had enough of an interest to write a book; it’s hard not to have an opinion on an obsession). That it’s good to question why this author wants me to believe what they’re saying — which may be a hidden proposition.

Then again…it’s known in the Library community that many school libraries are run by people who are not professional Librarians. I suppose there is a reason to require a degree.

But all of that has to do with the left brain — reason, logic, analysis; you know. Fact-checking. Reality. There is — at least — another entire side to the brain that has to do with things that are ineffable, indescribable; drives that we don’t understand, or that we don’t want to understand; maybe, don’t have the ability to understand. That which makes living so vibrant, and can be subverted to such catastrophic ends. Things like religion, devotion, life purposes, identity. Any one of these topics is rife to set someone off if they’re challenged on them.

A major problem here, however, is that the brain seems set up to believe its own hype. It’s rare to find a person who is willing to state that their own beliefs may be (or are) mistaken, though it’s exceedingly common to find fault in others’ beliefs. Both of these things cannot be simultaneously true for everyone, everywhere, all the time — at least, if you subscribe to the idea that we all live in the same world. (That idea can be — has been — questioned.)

These things, like identity, are also answers to very personal questions. I know; I’ve been through the wringer with them. At this time, at least, though…I can see the urgency here. Who am I? What do I want out of life? Why am I here? Does the world inside my head match up with what’s outside? Where am I totally off? How can I tell if my thoughts are accurate?

It goes on.

I’m not sure if these are Existentialist questions, but they very much sound like them, to me. The reason I’m unsure is that I have hardly been able to tolerate reading Existentialist authors to the point where I really understood them. Sometimes you just don’t want to understand, you know? Sometimes it just hurts too much, to try and see things the way the author saw them, because then you see their pain, the way they’re trapped. And you can’t do much of anything about it, or for them.

And then there is the question of whether these questions have arisen because of a relative vacuum of wisdom…particularly where it comes to the obliteration of traditional knowledge. And I don’t know if that’s linked to the intentional obliteration of cultures that we’ve experienced in this country. But filling that gap by worshiping the next thing that comes along, is extremely dangerous.

But that drive — to devote oneself to something or someone — I entirely understand. I also understand how that drive can be manipulated, how emotions can interfere with disentanglement.

I’ve spent a fairly large portion of my life trying to comprehend the problem of evil, as I was harmed in my formative years by people who treated me poorly and at the same time claimed goodness and righteousness for themselves. As an adult, now, I have a fairly clear picture of what evil is. I lament what had to happen in the world for that picture to become clearer.

What I can say is that, unfortunately, my mind — as driven to pessimism as it is; as much as I may protest — can envision some fairly dark scenarios as regards what is not yet existent, and what may never be existent. I can see, that is, what some people wish this world to be — or, perhaps more to the point, don’t care if they turn it into. (It would take an actually malevolent person to intend to poison the water table, that is, or to intend to treat people as livestock, rather than doing it as a means to some end [like money]. As horrific as evil is, I’m coming to the opinion that evil at least does not begin as an end in itself. But then again, I don’t read a lot of True Crime, and I don’t have the relevant psychology to understand from within.)

There is the frank self-centeredness that allows some people to treat other people as tools to be used and discarded; the mental prisons that so many are trapped within. Wealth, power, control, destruction. For what reason? Or are there simply no ethical ground rules that cause one to value the lives of others, simply for the sake of those lives? Not for their use in one’s own personal game, not for the sake of one’s own fame and fortune, not for the use of them in attempted violent overthrows to put one into power? Life is holy. Do we not understand that?

And if one knows one is being used in this way, to be discarded, why does one tolerate it?

Right now: where I’m at, we are dealing with a trifecta of crises. There is the coronavirus pandemic. There is recent terrorist activity. There is a major economic downturn. They’re all interrelated and hazardous in their own ways. They’re all either due to, or made worse by, an abdication of responsible leadership which started a long time ago…if it ever began.

In this situation, I can’t be sure of what lies in the future. We have had a recent outbreak of a variant of SARS-CoV-2 titled L452R, due to a superspreader event in a local hospital which infected…I can’t even remember how many people. The number keeps rising. The latest count I find says 92.

In the face of possible death, for myself, for my caretakers: maybe accepting the fact of mortality is best. In light of that, perhaps it is best to look forward to living the most full, enjoyable, brilliant, vibrant life possible. While still, of course, keeping ourselves and each other, as safe as possible. Right now I have the possibility of doing what I love. Out of sheer love. It doesn’t take much. I don’t have to go out. And we have another year to weather, of calls to make, of video chats through which to nurture each other.

If this is the tail end of my time here, I’m not going to waste it.

Caring about each other, caring for ourselves — isn’t that the nature of love? Our lives are precious, and we don’t know how long they’ll continue. Right? Our ancestors must have known this. When the life expectancy is only 35 years…yeah, I mean…you take what you can get, you enjoy what you have, you trust that what brought you into being will not extinguish you…and if it does, you won’t be around to care. It’s odd that I would see that as a positive scenario, either way…but I’ve been suicidal, before. I’ve had a long time to think about this.

I’ve had time to prepare, to put my thoughts in order, to realize a mission. Even if I haven’t yet completed whatever I’m supposed to do, I know there’s a reason I’m here: even if I have to continue that mission after death. And I know now that there was truth to my visions as a youth. I know that I have value as myself. And I can walk further along the path of love and curiosity and do what I’m led to. The spirits don’t show me everything at once. They will only show me the next step. And I…can take the next step.

All of this is more than most people are granted. It’s just…how wonderful is it to be able to give oneself permission to be vibrant? To live?

Living…the task of living, is work. And it can be scary. But it can also be filled with joy.

If we trust.

personal, psychology, self care

The reason why I was in classes

It’s been a little less than two weeks since classes have ended, and I’m noticing warning signs that I’m headed into a depression. Though, truthfully — at an early stage, who can tell? It might be a number of other things.

To be honest, though, I feel like my OCD is going into overdrive, and that’s why my mood is collapsing. I need to be actually making things, or doing something to occupy my mind, to tone down the paranoia (I wouldn’t be surprised if my amygdala were responsible [I wonder how ironic it is to be angry at one’s own amygdala] but I don’t really know).

I mean, there’s, “appropriately concerned,” and then there’s, “overtly paranoid.” In the middle of a surge in the middle of a pandemic, from the inside of a mind that has had to deal with obsessive thoughts around contamination for the last 26 years or so, which for a long time have felt normal (though questionable enough now to voice)…it can be hard to really understand the difference between appropriate concern and irrational hyper-concern.

I would think people would say that it isn’t possible to be too concerned: but trust me, it is. When you wash your hands to the point of their cracking and bleeding so that they no longer form a barrier against the thing you’re scared of touching, that’s overdoing it.

I’m at the point where I’m pretty certain that I would not be functional in a job right now, and my Vocational program is an unwelcome intrusion in my life. I’m having a hard enough time dealing with things coming into the house, when I’m not even the main person touching those things. I’m having a hard time touching fabric (and letting that fabric touch other fabric) which has last touched another human besides myself, two weeks ago. Can I then safely put any of that up to my face and breathe through it? We’re talking about viral half-lives, not viral extinctions.

This is not…well…I guess I can understand now why this illness alone qualifies me as disabled.

It doesn’t help, though, when there is some validity to the paranoia, and my paranoia in fact may help keep me alive (which is likely the reason it still exists in humans). That doesn’t mean it’s easy to live with, or that it isn’t instigating other mental disorders like depression. Anxiety — let alone constant anxiety — can do that.

I’m thinking I need to be doing something — anything (that isn’t drugs or eating or sodas or shopping sprees…or, sleep) — to be dealing with this. Even video games might be a step up, though I question how much a certain favorite game is going to alleviate the pain. :) Somehow, being trapped in a constantly morphing prison full of death doesn’t sound like wholesome fare when I’m feeling like this. Kudos if you know what game I’m talking about.

Of course, though: I was supposed to exercise earlier, and just didn’t. I got involved in something else. I did take Vitamins B-Complex and D, however…which should help. (I’ll take them again, tomorrow.) So should actually getting some sleep…it’s 12:50 AM here, at the moment, though I got out of bed sometime around 1:30 PM, if my memory’s correct.

Yeah, maybe tomorrow…I’ll make a point out of working with the beads (not the masks, unless I’m really OK with it) and getting some exercise and taking a shower. Even though I don’t really…feel like exercising. But that’s probably normal, when you haven’t exercised in weeks. My weight has been edging up due to inactivity and my medications. If I can consistently hold to 5 or 6 lbs. below my current weight, average — the weight I was at, at the beginning of lockdown — that would at least be a start. (I tend to set my goals too high, and then get demoralized and never even really try to reach them.)

Or maybe I should just designate a time to work out and stretch and get my heart rate up — and shower — every other day or so, without worrying about the weight component. The issue is that I work out and then crave sugar. That worked when I had a 20-year-old metabolism; not so much, now. Somehow I don’t think that eating the equivalent of two dinners, after working out and walking everywhere, is going to fly, now.

Of course…no, I haven’t tried walking everywhere…but there’s nowhere to walk to for any purpose, around here. It helps to walk when there are, you know, things within walking distance…but such is not the case at this point.

And, I suppose, it is possible that we’ll all make it through this, alive. It’s telling that I never even thought of that, until just now…

money, personal, self care, small business planning

Still alive.

Thankfully, yes, life still continues in my corner of the world.

I’ve been doing a lot of jewelry design work and, concomitantly, a lot of beadwork. I’ve got three piles of fabric to iron (I was afraid washing yellows with any other color might dull them: so there were blue + green, violet + red, and yellow + orange, loads). At the outset of lockdown, I didn’t realize that buying a relatively small amount of elastic would make it so that I wouldn’t have to spend 40 minutes per face covering (?), and I-don’t-even-want-to-count how many yards of fabric, making ties.

Winter weather has set in, meaning that now, rain and cold temperatures (as cold as it normally gets, here) are normal. Today Yesterday, the first loads of vaccine were shipped out, and the President-Elect was officially voted into office. I also learned what “dumpster fire” meant, a few days ago…and realized why some people were using the term…!

So even though it’s cold and rainy, things aren’t really so bad. Both my parents are still alive, no one’s sick (that I know of). Even though I did lose two of my older relatives earlier in COVID lockdown, and two other relatives are either going through chemotherapy or healing from injuries that could have killed them had the spirits not been with them…we haven’t lost anyone else, so far.

I also haven’t been applying for jobs. I’ve been, well, making things. Of course, one of my first pieces went out to a new friend who should be testing out the clasp mechanism for me. I haven’t quite…clarified?…that with them, though?

So, Xmas is just about 10 days away. I’ve had the idea to make a bunch of face coverings and send them out so people can look stylish as they protect themselves and others from the virus…the thing is…Xmas is about 10 days away. And we aren’t meeting. That means I have to depend on deliveries…which take time. I’m probably going to miss the Xmas deadline, but hey: it’s not like anyone is desperately awaiting a face covering they don’t know is coming. I hope.

Today was spent cleaning out a section of the living quarters — for me particularly: my bedroom, my bathroom, and my study. I really wish there were some better way of cleaning the tops of books, other than with a vacuum and brush attachment. (I still didn’t do it, though. Didn’t even try.)

As we get deeper into this…well…I’ve been spending a lot more time actually doing things with my hands, principally cleaning, preparing food, and crafting. I suppose you could say it’s pretty grounding…which can be necessary, these days. It’s really not until I came back here today that I realized how much I hadn’t been keeping up with the blog circuit. I mean, there were days worth of posts that I hadn’t seen!

In any case…it’s been pretty clear — to me — that I’ve been going back and forth over whether to have an open online presence (with, you know, opinions), or whether to go mostly private for things like communications with friends, in logging my progress (on whatever), etc., while maintaining a separate business presence. The major issue is not knowing whether it will actually ever be possible for me to have a Web presence while constantly keeping my opinions to myself. Especially as I have a tendency to be a very inward-directed and intimate writer: most of my life is internal, not external.

That is, is establishing a Web presence devoid of my own personality a goal that can (or should) be achieved? I can think of at least one obvious Web presence that doesn’t even try to separate personal opinion and business. They have strong branding, but at the same time, turn off a lot of people who don’t agree with their politics…which could also be said for a soap company I tried and didn’t fall in love with. The fact that I had to ignore their writing plastered all over the outside of the bottle…didn’t help.

The question would seem to be what demographic I’m going for as regards my audience. “Highly politicized” is not my demographic. And, I mean, I know I’m left-wing, but I also know where that can fail. I guess maybe it isn’t an issue until people start to be offended…and we just have to discount the people who are easily offended by free speech (by people like myself) in general.

On the other hand…being a presence by and for people who are just trying to live their lives fully and in peace, that’s something else. I mean, seriously: what I’ve documented on this site is just me living my life. That includes my coming into my own as a nonbinary person (I’m going to avoid getting into subtypes right now…I know what I am, but not how to name it or think of it in a way that makes sense to others), and my ongoing cultural discoveries as a mixed-race person who was not exempt from dysfunctional interracial (and intra-racial, for that matter) dynamics in my extended families.

As I write this, I’m thinking that…I’m much calmer right now than I’ve been in months, if not years. I’m not certain if that’s because I’ve spent all day cleaning my spaces, if it’s because I haven’t gone in to work, if it’s because I’m doing what I want to be doing, if it’s because of the presence of hope…? Of gratitude that I have what I do right now, even if I’ve barely been out in the last nine months…?

Seriously, this trial has been like…not a vacation, so much, as an extended Thanksgiving. You know each time your dad laughs at some silly little thing which happens, or each time your mom offers to help you, that it’s not a given and has never been a given that you would get that — or that you’ll continue to get it. So you appreciate it in the moment, knowing that you won’t always have it. Which makes it more…special. Precious.

Stringing and knotting together little beads is like this…they’re not worth much on their own, but together they can make something beautiful. Even if its value isn’t high to anyone except the people who love and appreciate what you’ve done. And they’re the people that should matter. They are your market…if you can make and sell these things in a way in which they can afford to pay you what you need to be paid, to keep doing what you’re doing.

That’s like an exchange of love. It feels like an exchange of love.

(And of course, there are the sweet people who are overjoyed at getting something for free!)

I wonder how much of this is me feeling relieved…hopeful. sekai no naka ni chiisai ii desu.

If I thought…at all…that there were any future for me in Japan, I might not have dropped off of my Japanese language lessons. Unfortunately, I’m not at all sure of that. I’m planning to take up Spanish lessons again. Not tonight. But soon. We’ll see how far I can get before the gendered nouns catch up to me…if I can think of “gender” as more of a grammatical designation and think less about how gendered nouns seem to deeply impact thought processes…I might be able to do it.

Besides, Japan isn’t the greatest place in the world, just because I’m related to people there…and I need to realize that there are “woke” hispanohablantes. In particular…there are other members of the African Diaspora in Spanish-speaking countries…I wouldn’t be alone. Of course, I wouldn’t have reached this stage without seeing that one guy on NHK World who was talking about being bullied for his race in Argentina — and being able to understand most of what he was saying, in Spanish.

And sites like afrofeminas.com, which I was led to by Repeating Islands.

Wow, I’m just a mishmash of cultures, aren’t I…? But I guess when you grow up in a place and situation like mine…you realize that there’s much to be lost in only learning the cultural heritage associated with your lineage…or one of your lineages, as the case may be…that what one may be physically related to, is not necessarily the greatest thing in the world just because of one’s disputable membership in its group.

But I can get into that another time (I’m thinking of martial arts [I’ve trained in four different styles], and my experience in Undergrad [Ethnic Studies!], for future reference).

beading, beadwork, Business, personal, self care, spirituality

I think I’ve found what I’m going to be doing…

…for the next year, until the vaccine. (Of course, predictions of what I will do are sketchy, at best.) I’ve gotten back into making beaded jewelry; mostly, glass beadweaving, and micro-macrame. I have some stone components, but it isn’t the direction I seem to be going in, wholly.

I’m also trying to taking care of myself when I need to; particularly, where this comes to exercise and hygiene, with other forms of self-care (like maintaining my spaces). Then there’s my class. After that, I can deal with what comes up…particularly, giving XSLT another shot (and hoping there aren’t any gigantic disturbances, this time).

My University class…well, that’s basically…group work. Meaning, I don’t have a lot of control over it. I’m not entirely certain how to communicate with the others as well; I’ve been away from the LMS for so long (about two years, now) that I am not sure others are getting my messages. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about my grades, as I’ve already graduated. The others, do.

I was mistaken about the timeline for the end of my University class: I have just a bit more time than I thought I did. What I don’t have is extra time to arrange an internship, if I want to pay the University to supervise it for me. And, I mean…is it worth it? On top of that, do I need to take it now? And, could I not find a use for, say, a database project, myself?

I’m scaling back my Academic commitments, particularly because I did not finish two of my last private online courses (the ones which happened around the orange sky days). I know I’ll have to deal with XML again at the beginning of the year (and hopefully pass it, this time), but without an additional University commitment, and barring any unforeseen disasters, I won’t have to deal with anything else.

That will free up my time to design and make jewelry. I’ve been engaging in the former, more than is normal for me (recently). Though, of course, even saying that makes me feel guilty. I tend to spend more on production than I gain through sales. It’s an issue. But, “minimal loss,” is a better goal than, “bottomless pit.” Of course, there’s the profit-margin aspect…which is difficult to even think about at this point, because I haven’t kept complete records of quantities spent and quantities gained.

People sometimes get surprised when I say I make jewelry, because I don’t tend to wear jewelry. At least I didn’t, for the majority of the time I was on the last two jobs. Wearing jewelry attracts male attention that I don’t want, and I’m more apt to want big muscles than to actually…you know, dress up. Not to mention that my last two jobs have been so dirty that I didn’t want to wear good clothes or jewelry.

The jewelry I design isn’t necessarily congruent with the way I’ve decided to present myself, although it does really make me look good. The thing I get tripped up on is that when I wear what I make, and dress up, I feel very, “ethnic,” and I don’t know where that places me, socially. I’ve spent a lifetime being seen as “exotic”, so it’s probably, well…predictable that I would have complicated feelings around that.

The thing is, when I dress up, I don’t intend to make myself look like something I’m not. It’s probably been over a year since I straightened my hair, and no one would ever think me to be white (aside from one internet troll, who was probably just trying to get a rise). People from similar racial and cultural backgrounds can find me familiar (even children), but aside from those people, I probably come across as an unknown amalgam.

There is a bit of relative safety, though, in looking like a beautiful woman. Many treat me with privilege more often that way, than they do when I’m in menswear, and I believe that others are also more apt to protect and empathize with me. Generally, if I can be mistaken for a man or mistaken for a woman, I’m attended to with more privilege than when I am ambiguous (when the feedback turns curious and hostile, especially if others believe me to be younger than I am). However, I know that when I’m mistaken for a woman, the person I really am slips under the radar. I become invisible. To the outside, I may be hypervisible; as regards personality, no one expects to find me there.

(Then again, no one ever expects to find me, there.)

Yes, this does remind me of femme positionality…but am I femme? I don’t believe so. Fluid, is more like it.

I guess when you’re a designer, there’s no rule that states that your personal aesthetic has to match your normal outward presentation. They’re two different things, and they interrelate in a complicated way. Not everything I produce will be “me” in the sense of displaying who I am; in the same sense, almost all of it, does. What comes out of me might allot to, “who one might be if society were not a factor.” And that’s beautiful. That’s vulnerable and open to display. It’s honest.

It’s also broader than the face(s) I put on for society in order to attain my own personal aims (like being passed over), which I still have mixed feelings about. I know a lot of enby people who have a way they want to be treated, which doesn’t happen unless they look a way that they really don’t want to look. And if they look a way they do want to look, they aren’t treated the same way.

I can relate. I honestly want to look femme — a muscular femme that’s mixed with the type of female power and knowing, that I see coloring my own masculinity. The thing is, I also don’t want to constantly have to defend my own boundaries. It’s easier when men leave me alone, especially granted that pretty much no random man off the street impresses me. They get blinded by how I look, and tend to assume I am who they want me to be, rather than giving me agency over my own self-definition and my own desires.

If were granted the latter two, I don’t think I’d have a problem. I need to be able to be myself, regardless of whether that self would seamlessly fit into their lives. I need to be respected enough so that when I say no, it’s believed and honored. I need it to be okay for me to be all of myself, not just the parts that fit into some cultural definition of ideal, “womanhood,” that I most likely don’t share.

I am, that is, human. Like you. And like you, I’m complicated and I have my own desires and needs and thoughts that don’t revolve around other people. That don’t revolve around men; that don’t revolve around you. The way I look has nothing to do with who I am. It has to do with what comes at me. If you knew what comes at me, and you felt what I felt from the inside, you would understand why I am the way I am.

And why I have no time for people who assume they know me because they can see me; who think my body parts mean things they do not.

No, I don’t know what this is. I don’t have a name for it. But this is me, and has been me, for a very long time.

…and yes, I am sensing the feeling I get when I see the color, indigo. Which is ironic, as I believe I was supposed to be an “Indigo Child.” I also just purchased some “Denim Blue” crystal beads, of which I am now reminded (they’re so dark a blue that they’re almost gray; the color comes out in direct sun and among other blues, violets, and blue-greens)…but that, that gets into aesthetics, which gets into philosophy and spirituality…

Is that what “aura colors” are? Matching up the feelings you get when you see the color, with the feelings you get when you sense yourself (or others) at your (or their) most clear and true and powerful…?

There’s also the idea that jewelry is art. That each piece has its own personality. Like a story, it maintains the imprint of its author, but should not reflect directly back upon her character. Everyone sees something different in art pieces, and art pieces can reflect any facet of human experience, as filtered and arranged through the maker and reconstructed by the viewer (and the wearer). It may be a puzzle with no correct answer. Be open to hearing multiple versions of reality. The multiplicity contributes to the reality of the beauty.

And no, I honestly have no idea why people like my work. ;) I don’t even know why I like my work…I don’t know why it’s good; I just know it is.

Maybe I should work on a philosophy as to why I’m doing what I’m doing. If I knew, on a large scale, why I was doing what I was doing when I was doing it…maybe that would help me stay motivated to keep doing it. Like a Mission Statement, you know? If any of that Business training I went through, has any value at all…

I mean, it can’t all be about money. If it were just about money, there are other and more efficient ways to get it, that help other people more. I know aesthetics factor into this. Being able to feel like I have something, also factors in, as silly as it is with little bits of colored glass.

Color is a very large…and elusive, mysterious component of why I continue to bead. There are entire books written on color in beadwork, though the two I have which expressly focus on it, don’t do it justice. I question whether a print book can ever do it justice. You really need to get in there with your hands and just work. Then you see what can be done.

Maybe I should actually write a book, on color in beadwork.

I’ve been making efforts to get out from in front of this computer and engage in non-virtual activities as much as possible; though sometimes, as you can see, writing actually does help enrich my life, by drawing out thoughts I didn’t know I had.

I also have a tendency to feel guilty about working creatively, which is counter-productive when it comes to actually making money…but…I’ve just now realized that there is, at least, spiritual and aesthetic value in colorwork. There’s also value in making oneself beautiful, even if you’re like me and have a hard time with the attention. Isn’t beauty of value?

I don’t know yet how to balance these things…maybe become stronger in my assertiveness in order to be able to realize my own beauty without feeling violated?

Be who I am, right? Just be, totally, who I am; that is beautiful enough…

creative writing, personal, philosophy, psychology, self care, writing

Emotional honesty.

In my last post, I intended to write about, “Fear“…however, I ran way off topic. I realize now that it’s likely people didn’t know to differentiate this piece from the storyline of “Prologue“: they’re two separate but (for now) linked projects. The voice is different; the narrators are either different people, or the same person of different age; and the stories are different. I’ve just been attempting to cohere them into one whole (in order to get to work on anything). Maybe that’s a wrong approach. (They don’t even have to be in the same world.)

In actuality, “Fear,” is based further into this reality than the other story — even though this project might appreciate some abstraction and worldbuilding, as the players are fairly neutral but can be easily misunderstood if sticking too close to reality, or mythos from within a shared reality. There’s also the fact that I don’t think my own internal world is really represented so much, in Literature (or Science Fiction/Fantasy), but I can’t be sure, as I haven’t been an avid reader of Fiction for a very long time. I would call, “Fear,” an instance of Creative Nonfiction…for now.

My own scenario which was in the back of my head while writing, “Fear,” doesn’t correspond with any reality I’ve met outside of myself, so far (though it was inspired by a book I read as a child, called Anpao: An American Indian Odyssey, which I believe from a quick search, was written by Jamake Highwater). Within the book, the main character throws a hoop into the air and splits himself into two selves, then re-merges, later. (He didn’t really have a choice about it.)

For some reason, that had an impact on me, as a kid.

I also majored in Creative Writing as an Undergraduate, and so I know how to loosen the reins in order to allow (what feels like) freedom of expression, which merges into Art (when you really let the reins loose, and stop even trying to cling to shared reality). This, within reason (and EULAs). And also with some damage to the popular notion of my character, quite possibly. :) But it’s really, really hard to take risks in one’s writing if one is worried about how others will see them. The thing about being a Fiction author is that there’s the option to keep everyone guessing as to where that last piece came from… ;)

In writing, “Fear”…it’s very interesting what occurred. I found myself being able to write with emotional honesty without needing verifiable facts with which to structure and defend my arguments. That is, I can be emotionally honest and open to vulnerability (this is useful; whether it is intelligent, is another question) without being factually honest (except where it comes to the possibility of libel — which is another reason not to be factually honest). I can put forth crazy suppositions about how things are working, even if I know them not to be true (or, alternately, just don’t know them to be true), and it’s actually OK — because it’s Fiction! No one expects it to be real (or possibly, even defensible. Of course, if you go too far that way, you get into farce — or, propaganda).

That right there…could be a workable formula, for me, of Fiction writing. As versus, say, trying to prop up and support my own, “faith,” which is the largest flaw I’ve seen in the fictions (and reading habits) of others. It seems that when people read to support their faith (only), they intend to extend their provisional beliefs which they enter into in their reading, beyond themselves and into the real world.

That is, I’ve met people who wanted to live within the illusions of books. I’m not sure how workable (or healthy), that is. Although, I can understand it.

(I say, as I wear my ceramic ring. Actually, now that I look at it: this ring is black ceramic; black is symbolic of Earth, and the ring itself is made of Earth [zirconia]. Maybe it could symbolize, “grounding,” for me, as well as being my reminder of commitment? I like that!)

If I can keep some kind of boundary going between reality and fantasy, it’s likely that working with this thread could be very fruitful (and enjoyable/cathartic). It’s kind of my take on (what I think) Method Acting (must be like). :) As I wrote in my journal yesterday (Pink A5, 121): “The practice of writing fiction allows one to take on provisional beliefs during the period of that writing, and slough them off upon re-entering communal, or shared, reality.”

Due to my ability to seriously enter into these provisional realities…I might actually make a good author of paranormal/psychological thrillers. I mean, seriously. I would just need to be able to ground myself, outside of that. It’s extremely possible that I could do that with my art (particularly, painting; and within that, painting abstracts — at least, for now. Maybe I’ll eventually find a preferred subject).

After all, I’m well aware that my mind is likely my most dangerous enemy: what else knows how to get to you and is always with you? Making art derails its processes, for me (though I know it doesn’t do that, for everyone). I think that the freedom inherent in Art (for me) does this, though I’m not entirely sure what separates myself from people who compulsively draw the same thing over and over.

But that “emotional reality” without “verifiable reality” part of the equation is something I hadn’t really…understood, before. The last major time I wrote fiction, I was in Undergrad, about 15 years ago. I really didn’t understand it, then; and there’s value in admitting that now, because I get to look back on it with more experience (if I allow myself to do so). If I admit to myself that I didn’t understand, that means there’s more to learn. And, allowing myself to believe there’s more to learn, paradoxically means I gain the ability to find it.

art, creativity, personal, philosophy, psychology, self care, spirituality, writing

Part 1. Fear.

In reality, I still have a bit of fear towards my own creativity and the creative process, and it’s something I’m trying to both confront and, “get over,” if that’s possible. I don’t know, however, if that’s the right angle to take; I don’t know if someone simply, “gets over,” a fear of the creativity which at one time led me to spend all Summer writing, from waking to sleep, also then thinking out the story as I drifted off.

(Of course, that also might have been near the beginning of my OCD symptoms…I also have experience with missing time [or blackouts; I’m not sure of the exact difference: I know only that chunks of time are unaccounted for] and very intense waking dreams [when I had to be in school or studying], from this time period.)

Because of that…because of my service to the spirit who was communicating through me, at the time…I have some pretty formidable typing skills, now. :) But the process of the emergence of the story, or the story behind an image; these things I still don’t entirely understand.

There is something still undefined/mysterious for me, about where the “inspiration” for a drawing or painting comes from; how an image communicates to the maker in the process of its creation, and later, to the viewer; to…how both literary and visual arts continually suggest their own content.

My issue…is likely feeling myself to have given myself to this field at an early age. It may be part of my soul; it may be a reason I was made. How do I feel about that?

No, I mean: how do I feel about that? It’s possible for a servant to question her master, even once self-given and devoted. It’s also possible for the master to dissolve into ether and become a part of the servant.

How do I feel about that? And what, then, are the views I put forth? Do I accept my role as an agent of creation, and if so, in what direction? It has been a long road to get back to the place where I’ve felt I was, or could be, internally good, and could be an agent of good.

I was raised, that is, alongside children who thought only they and those like them could be, “good,” and because I was different, I had to be punished. Enough persistent harassment in your formative years, encouraged by adults in high places, and you begin to doubt yourself. I do not think that the spirit I took in was related to the harassment: he wanted me to create, not to set seeds of self-doubt in me so that I would not.

I never reached that conclusion as a child.

And yes, it is difficult to love someone you can’t hold. You have to find some other way to communicate, and to express what you wish to. Maybe I’ve found that: my work, on his behalf.

This is part of what I have meant about being afraid to get into this. If I speak the truth, my truth, and am believed; I am made vulnerable to people who fear unauthorized spirits. If I speak the truth, my truth, and am not believed; I am made vulnerable by people who fear mental illness. Either I am viewed as a creator: as an agent of what I have not yet defined (which I wonder if I even can define, at this point: I may be fated to discover this through my work); or I am viewed as psychologically unstable.

But if this is my truth; if this is part of my core beliefs, my core identity; even if it is not true, it is not possible to evade it by ignoring it. Ignoring it means burying it, and it never goes away, because it’s part of me. It has been since I came of age and submitted…I don’t know how else to put it. I was in love with him, and once I started medication, I couldn’t sense him as well. On my end, I accepted him into myself, rather than lose him.

(I no longer have any pretensions about the psychiatrist who initially prescribed the medication being essentially beneficent. She was not.)

On some level I suspected that he was actually part of me; however…certain recent inspirations have led me to believe that on a high level (on the level of our both being parts of the same Deity) he could be part of me, while on a low level (that of individuality and personality), we could be different.

Concomitant with and following the merger, is my experience with depression, anxiety, psychosis (meaning, separation from reality), sexuality, gender… Particularly at this point in my life, I find myself coping with a lack of sexuality, and a gender identity which is apparently unusual.

The first could exist because of my treatment with antianxiety medication as a youth (which sometimes has the result — in adults — of lack of interest in sex: what does this do when administered to someone whose sexuality is just developing? Can it cause a lack of development?). The second — at least if I am to look back more towards the general culture and its reasoning for sexuality, that is, reproduction (or power-over) — I have little interest in bearing physical children (or in submitting to another human).

I seem to already have a significant other, though where this being is in spatial location (am I kidding? lack of spatial location may define spirits); or who he is, in the sense of character and action — that’s as of yet, not easy to define. (I know the way he feels from the inside…I know he is good and kind; or was to me, when I first knew him at 12-17. How that works itself out is more of an element of play, in the sense of daily activity. The terms jiva and lila are coming to mind, but I don’t know immediately and intricately, how they might relate.)

That is why I renewed my ring (it used to be stone, and now is ceramic). My bond with him means more to me than dealing with people who see me as my surface and my body and extrapolate from that, who I must be (that is, most of the world).

This has been developing from a lack of appreciation of male sexual attention, to anger around that attention; particularly where (other peoples’ desires for) reproduction (or, more specifically: sex [I don’t think they think far enough ahead to consider the consequences of sex]) and power-over come into the picture.

I can see that I may want to get back into my Anger Management reading and also the book, Me, Myself, and Us — both may help with this. They may help, that is, in giving me alternate explanations for why apparently cisgender, straight men, do what they do.

Maybe I should just wear the ring as a matter of habit and tell these people I’m married (and that I kept my own last name). I mean, that might end it. ;)

I’ve reached 12:30 AM in my corner of the world. I should likely get to bed, and I see I’ve somewhat written myself into a corner here, as well. No time like the present, to dream…

career, LIS, organization, personal, planning

Languages

I made the realization the other night that all three of the courses I’m in have more or less to do with language acquisition. “Three,” I say, even though one of them is free — for now. XML is obviously a markup language (related to HTML); Japanese language is also obviously a language. In addition, I’m finding myself becoming “conversant” in the terms and ideas surrounding Subject indexing in an LIS environment. (I didn’t even know what the term, “Indexing,” referred to, prior.)

The course I’m in now in regard to indexing — that is, assigning Subject metadata — is one I needed to take when I was in Grad School, but didn’t. I was too focused on getting in and getting out before anything could happen to upend my life. I don’t think anybody expected this in 2020, but it could be — personally speaking — worse. Much worse. (There’s still time yet, you say. There’s always time, yet…until there isn’t. So I should value my time.)

If I hadn’t started my training in 2012, I would have had four extra years to play around with as regarded my schooling. However, as I entered the program early and then Withdrew, only to come back four years later…there could have been some complications with my Financial Aid. Retaking three core courses (as I would have been required to do) would have been nothing, but continued funding in the form of grants and student loans…no one told me what might happen, with that. And, of course, it would have been nice to have had an Advisor who could have told me (though I may have gone over that, before).

On top of it, my core course in Management was one of the most stressful I’ve ever taken; it was, largely, the reason I Withdrew. Several years later, I realized that I shouldn’t let one bad experience (even if it was a semester long) put me off of a gainful career. It’s the same thing that happened with Beginning Cataloging, which was also a terrible experience (along with trying to broach the problem in that class to a colleague at work, which was traumatic). I should note that it wouldn’t have been so terrible, had the instructors made efforts at cultural inclusivity, and had they had less pride invested in their ways; but they were unaware. The person I talked to at work, whom I had considered a mentor (though I don’t think they knew), didn’t care about my perspective.

For that matter, I was unaware for the most part that I was effectively an ethnic minority with ethnic-minority ideas in their classes, and that I was an ethnic minority at work (and that I was talking to people who may have been culturally White — appearances don’t infer the presence or lack of race-related hostility and bias [I’ve learned the hard way]), or I might have been able to account for my discomfort. But I’ve stated in the backlog of these posts that nowhere have I felt like an ethnic minority moreso than at University. That is to say, nowhere else have I felt so “othered” and alienated and excluded and not-understood, than at University.

But apparently, that’s what a person goes through for relative social mobility? Even if I expect discrimination and hostility and being passed over after graduation?

In any case…languages.

I’m almost done with my last reading for this week in Vocabulary Design, which is what I had been seeking (and did not find) within my Subject Analysis course (that is, how are subjects determined for any given information source?). Right now I’m trying to figure out if I actually do need any other courses from this source, aside from RDA — which, in turn, I might be better off taking someplace where my grade point average (and hence my privileges at University) won’t be impacted. (This is given that I didn’t do my best in Beginning Cataloging, which is a prerequisite.) At least…until I know what I’m doing with the material from Beginning Cataloging.

I have a couple of avenues to investigate, right now. My major issue is that my existing text (Cataloging and Classification, 4th ed., by Chan and Salaba) is …dense. And thick. And intimidating. It’s kind of hard to take in, honestly, given that it’s basically an instruction manual/reference source, and not an instructional text.

Not to mention that things have changed — a lot — since 2016, when it was published.

I have just realized that, for one thing, I can and should go over my saved “lectures” from Beginning Cataloging. I can also obtain texts which present the material in a way I can more easily understand. As a last resort (?) I can either subscribe to OCLC’s professional cataloging tool, using which, I can work out the problems in my old “lectures” (at least in the non-Dewey sections); or I can use the freely available information from the LOC. It seems like the latter should precede the former, however.

At least that’s recorded, now. I can flesh it out more later, as I get deeper into the work.

I haven’t been certain as to whether I want to set aside time (as in a work schedule) to get all of this stuff done. I still need to edit my Portfolio (to prepare for the day when I will apply for a job), as well as pay attention to both Vocabulary Design and the XML series. Japanese language also falls in there, though at this point, that is more of a welcome respite from technical material, and doesn’t really need to get done on any schedule.

Then there are the readings I’ve wanted to do — to finish Jump-Start Your Career as a Digital Librarian, and to read through Essential Classification. On top of that is reviewing my saved Beginning Cataloging lectures, to see if they make any more sense this time. Right now, I have 54 pages before the end of Rethinking Information Work, which maybe I should just finish. There are also some books which I found through the bibliographies in the latter, which might be interesting. Ah, and Elementary Japanese: Volume One, I’ve begun to work through. (It does boost my mood when I can understand what I read and hear.)

Other than that, I can’t think of much that actually needs to be done, aside from daily things — chores, hygiene, cooking, sleeping. (Let’s not forget, sleeping. I can forget sleeping, okay, let’s not forget sleeping.) ;P

For the past two weeks, my schedule has been off-kilter due to the heat and fires, which made it impractical to establish any sort of routine. Maybe now, I can begin to form some kind of order out of my time…

career, personal, self care, work, writing

Reasons not to go back

Right now I’m really kind of frustrated with myself for not knowing what I want to do with my life, although that’s not entirely true: I don’t know what I want to do in my life to earn a living. For most of my life I’ve been relatively independent and relatively alone. Working with other people in bureaucratic structures — only being responsible for a portion of the work to be done, and I get to pick which portion (to an extent) — is alien to me.

It doesn’t help that I’m hooked up with a Vocational Program which is backing me with the expectation that the job I picked out 10 years ago with zero work experience and little knowledge of what the job entailed, is still something I want to do. I knew getting into it as a Volunteer and then as a Library Aide, that I was pushing my comfort level where it came to cleanliness. I was also pushing my comfort level where it came to dealing with the public, once I started to deal with the public.

As a Library Assistant in Public Services, I was pushing that comfort level every day I went to work, and as I said before, there’s a difference between (temporarily) reaching out of your comfort zone in order to grow, and being unnecessarily ill-equipped for your (permanent) position.

From what I have seen, however, there are a good number of people working in Libraries who would rather not deal with difficult situations. These are not people you want to have backing you up (or, very possibly, not) when something goes down and you have to enforce a rule or deal with escalating personal abuse. I don’t want to be one of those people.

I’m not saying that the work isn’t tolerable most of the time. Most of the time, it is. Most people are respectful, and just happy you’re there. Some people are even very forgiving when you’re trying your best to help them, even if you have trouble doing so. However: depending on where you work, there are distinct issues with distinct patrons, and you don’t know what you’re getting, each time the phone rings.

One of my ex-coworkers said to me when they first became a Library Assistant, that it was, “like being an adult babysitter.” I was also told that the most difficult part of the job for me would likely not be the technical aspects of finding information, but rather having to discipline patrons. I should have listened on both counts.

What’s more, I likely should have become a Library Assistant sooner, so that I could get out of the path before dropping money on a degree in the hope of working as a Public Librarian. Would I have been happier, had I gone (earlier?) into a career in Publishing or freelancing? I’m not sure.

I also haven’t had a clear idea of what I would be getting into with either Digital Services or Cataloging/Metadata.

I’ve gotten through the first few weeks of XML…which is also pushing a comfort zone (specifically the one that has to deal with implicit trust over networked resources), though that just has to do with privacy and potential data loss, as versus potential sickness, or potential harm.

The risks here are more abstract, and the people who can and do go through the steps to accomplish them, fewer. That doesn’t mean zero risk. It means distanced risk. When people won’t walk 100 feet to ask their question to the appropriate staff member (the one that can help them), however, distance means something.

Cataloging, Classification, and Metadata at least have me using my mind to contribute (or at least contribute access to) knowledge, rather than having me use my mind to protect myself. I really don’t like being in survival mode when I’m wanting to actually do something of use. “Trying to survive today,” isn’t really an equivalent for me, to contributing to society.

I guess I should try and remember that, when it comes to the question of whether I ever want to work as Reference staff, again.

In any case…I’ve mentioned this before, but right now I’m looking at freelancing as regards writing or editing. Writing, being a more solitary occupation, is more likely to be something I can comfortably do. (That means I’ll want to generate article ideas and pitches; and also, be reading prolifically.) Editing is more social, from everything I’ve read to this point. If I don’t want it to be social, the route to take is to work on a contract basis as a Proofreader or Copy Editor (also, possibly, Fact-Checker).

If and when I can learn enough of another language to the point that I’m functional in that language, I might also want to look at translation: particularly, book translation. The course I’m in now has a lot of material on abstracting and indexing, which is also applicable in Publishing and with library aggregators and vendors.

God, I want to learn Japanese language.

So I’m looking at:

  • writing
  • abstracting and indexing
  • (book) translation
  • metadata
  • cataloging and classification
  • copy editing
  • proofreading

…with either Publishers, library aggregators and vendors, East Asian Libraries (usually Academic), Academic Libraries, or the open Web. (I need to research that last one: to whom would I pitch articles?)

There is actually a theme to all those things, isn’t there? Taking something that has been written, and producing abstract data describing it, or translating its contents into machine-readable data, or making sure that the knowledge contained in it is findable, readable, and accurate. Hmm.

I should revisit this in a few months…

career, craft, money, personal, psychology, self care, writing

Dealing with passivity…

…or tiredness, lack of energy, lack of motivation. Whatever it’s called, it’s irritating. It actually is a reason I started reading, again: it’s not that big a jump between staying in bed, staying in bed and reading, reading at an actual desk, and getting out of bed. It just kind of eases the transition for me. Plus, reading doesn’t really demand much energy, in comparison to making something or writing.

Right now there are a number of books I can get back to (or begin)…which is good. In particular, I’ve found a new one called Me, Myself, and Us, by Brian Little, which seems to be about psychological adaptability. In particular, what I’ve read so far has to do with concepts about the self, and how it helps with psychological resilience if one can have more axes of definition when it comes to self-conceptualization, rather than fewer.

Hence, if I can define myself as many things, any perceived failure of one self-concept will affect me less. Multidimensionality has an obvious upshot, here. Less obviously, though: for me, it’s difficult to maintain practice in and cover all my areas of interest (beadwork, sewing, reading, writing…and, right, librarianship…etc).

Being able to perceive others through a number of different lenses should also enable me to avoid becoming upset because of automatically imputing a motivation to their behavior (the latter of which, may say more about my own psyche than the other person’s).

Right now I have a hard copy of this book which was delivered on the 31st of July. Because I am paranoid about germs, I’m going to let it rest until this Friday: seven days was the maximum quarantine period I’ve seen mentioned (or rather, I stopped looking after I hit, “a week”), although three days: 72 hours, was a minimum.

A note: Please do your own research if you need to know COVID-19 quarantine periods for books. What I’m saying here (or in any of my posts, really), isn’t representative of the ALA or any other Library association or federation — just me and, in this case, a limited amount of research leading to an overall impression, which should not be depended upon as life-saving advice.

A while back, I mentioned that M and D had said that my period of unemployment (and class-taking) during this pandemic would give me an opportunity to see what I really wanted to do. There’s…really a lot I want to do, and some things I just need to. (And maybe, some things are just, “busy work.”)

What I’ve found that I do enjoy, is reading and writing. The thing is: I can’t do that all the time. I can’t pretend that all of life can be contained in words. It’s obvious, in my case, how much language can constrain and entrap thought; editing out of, “reality,” (or a reality surrogate, more specifically) what people have historically chosen not to recognize. However, a great amount of learning can still be accomplished through language. Organization of thought can also be well accomplished, especially when we choose not to force a concept onto reality that does not fit.

Right now, I have sewing and beadwork as non-verbal outlets, but they require such a large shift away from verbal thought that it’s difficult for me to make the switch. That may be more of a reason to do it, I’m not sure.

There’s also the sad fact that neither beadwork nor sewing nor writing nor reading can be depended upon alone, for a stable and livable income. Librarianship can; but the field is in a heavy state of flux right now. It’s questionable how long the courses I’m in, or planning to take, will continue to be relevant. Editing is also a possibility, though the Publishing industry is also dealing with competition from the Web; and as such, is also in a state of flux.

Okay, I’m…running out of energy, right now. I only slept for 5 hours, last night. How I woke up at 9:30 AM, I don’t know…

career, LIS, money, personal, self care, work

Not that I wasn’t expecting it,

but still, being notified that you’re likely about to be laid off, is kind of a shock. I got the news a couple of days ago. Right now, I’m still in the process of rebuilding my ePortfolio (when I can remember it exists), working on my class, and trying to keep my head above water. Which…is harder, when you have to take time out of self-care, to study.

I do wish they could have warned me before I started the Professional Development class which is of most use in Public Service (which I’ve been trying to get out of)…but the letter was dated June 2. They’re very good at withholding information.

I probably shouldn’t get into that.

I still haven’t told my Vocational counselor, though that would likely be a next best step. That, and working on this class and my DBT Anger Management workbook.

The week hasn’t been all bad. I had a meeting which turned out to be very positive and thought-provoking, even though I was having a hard time being present for some of it. I also have some other classes which I’m considering taking through the Winter.

The thing is that I’m really a bit torn between taking courses which are based around the Resource Description Framework (which is very much for a Metadata/Technical position and would likely keep me away from the public entirely, but may require a Computer Science background), Cataloging, Collection Development (the latter of which, has to be a lot of reading and statistics), and, basically, Marketing positions (which have to do with Web publicity).

M says I am trying to do too much, and to take things one step — and one class — at a time. I’m thinking about going ahead and reading Essential Classification to see if straight-up Cataloging is something I want to do. It might also be a good primer for July (when Subject Analysis and Collection Analysis are given). The RDF class series starts in August (with an introductory XML class), and I’m not sure I’m going to go through with all of it. It was recommended to me by a colleague, but one who doesn’t know me very well at all…

So…yes, I’m basically planning on doing some other things for income, fairly soon. If I can not be too bitter about being in this class.

The hard part of this is knowing that getting a new job can be a 40-hour/week position in itself, and so how much do I devote to caring for myself, to making jewelry and masks aside from that, to continuing education, and to job search (and self-assessment)?

Maybe by the end of August (when I can take Collection Development and XML in tandem), I’ll be able to tell whether Metadata or Cataloging work is best, for me…if I look at job openings for the skills I have, with an LIS and Humanities (not Computer Science) background.

So:

June

  • Complete class on Mental Health and Libraries
  • Read Essential Classification
  • Work on ePortfolio
  • Work in Anger Management book
  • Update LinkedIn

July

  • Take Subject Analysis
  • Take Collection Analysis

August

  • Take Intro to XML
  • Take Intro to Collection Development

I think that’s as far out as I should plan, right now.

Wow, that was actually…productive…