CSNY. And I wanted so much to weave that song more overtly into this essay, but it’s already too long. I knew you’d get the allusion, though. Did you know that Joni wasn’t at Woodstock? And that Grace Slick (who is in the essay) was?
Plus peri/menopause!!!! I appreciate the part about all the elements that make us who we are and how we don’t know for sure. I never thought I would be a teacher, but see why it works with ADHD etc…
I have been spared the ravages of peri/menopause (so far?), but from what I know of it from others, YES. I'm now wishing I could have found a way to stay in the classroom, because I can see how becoming an instructional coach and a district librarian was so incompatible with my brain (or whatever it is that makes me how I am). What I really wish is that I could have been a school-based librarian, and that I'd pursued that when I first wanted to. In my next life....
I’m so very interested in questions we do not have answers to. Complexity science is getting a foothold, but still, we can never unravel the forces that produce our bodies in any particular moment in time. This is part of what I am writing about, too. I do have a political answer to my question, but the truth will always be just outside of my grasp.
Dang, Monica--Your responses are always so interesting and always open up my mind. I had never heard of complexity science, which, yes. Maybe is a kind of yes, and? All my life, whenever I've wrestled with anything in a deep way, I get to a place where it (whatever it is) feels all tangled up in too many things. And, yeah: The truth always felt just outside my grasp. Now there's a name for that, I guess. I can add this (my inability to grasp complex things) to the list of things I once heading with "my failings" and now realize were about something else entirely.
As Stevie Nicks sang,”Just like the one-winged dove…” except she didn’t!!! I found out quite recently it is “ white winged.,” which is quite a let down, really, and then I also discovered the word, mondegreen which means a misunderstood lyric!
Well this is an entire garden tea party of a piece and I love meandering and musing along the connecting paths with you. I kept singing Alice as I was reading and felt so happy for the tune to meet me along the way.. I keep thinking “Go ask Alice” and thinking — YES, let’s effing ask Alice how she feels about all this, Mr. Carroll.
I had an image of your students in their desks with each one being a different flower in a garden.
And each puzzle piece is definitely its own picture and island— you made me think of Pangaea and the way each continent/ island is its own distinct culture and place with a border that could still float and fit back into place under the right conditions. I feel like the different parts and periods of my life coexist in me like a roughly repaired and hastily stitched Pangaea. Some borders chaffing and erupting more than others.
Not sure what any of this means except you made me think, feel, relate, and wonder and I am, as ever, so grateful.
Good god but I love Joan Cusack! And I forgot how much I liked that movie back in the day. Now I want to rewatch the whole thing. (I think teacher me was so much like Joan's character in this scene. Her insides did not match her outsides.)
I cannot hear it as anything other than "one-winged." And I don't want to! What is a 17 year old if not a one-winged dove?
In my explorations I found a line by line analysis of the song as it connected (and didn't) to Alice's Adventures. Of course I could probably never find it again, but yeah, let's effing ask Alice. Even though I think there's probably more to the ending than "oh, she woke up and it was all over," to have Alice just happily skip off to tea does not sit right. I'm thinking she had some FEELINGS, after all that shrinking and growing and almost drowning and all the other things Wonderland put her through.
And, just as I will likely always carry your question about puzzle pieces, I'm now going to think about each epoch of my life as a continent. Thank you for that, and for always being here.
I don't even know where to begin, and I think if I touch on everything I want to say in response to this post my comment will be a dozen paragraphs long.
The way you describe your hypervigilance really hit home. This is exactly how I am as well, but I have the added bonus of anticipating catastrophe even when things are going fine. As an example, my youngest son recently started his summer co-op job, and instead of being able to think positively about it (what a great opportunity!) all I could do in the days leading up to him starting the job was to worry about ALL THE FUCKING THINGS that could go wrong. I sometimes wonder if this is just my wiring, if I would have been like this even if I didn't grow up with volatility and madness, but of course there's no way of knowing. Like Kari, I don't know what the fuck to do with any of it. The only thing I do know is that thinking too much about it leads me to some pretty dark places. I have read that hypervigilance is a useful evolutionary trait, so there is at least *something* positive about it.
"Keep your head" versus "feed your head." Oh my gosh, Rita, this gave me a laugh, because of course I've done the same kind of thing. (I'm racking my brain right now to remember an instance of this from just a few months ago and it's driving me crazy that I can't retrieve it.) I would actually say that keeping your head is SO much more important than feeding your head, but that's of course the hypervigilance talking, along with the visceral need I have to stay small and quiet and out of trouble.
I do think psychology is now catching up to the effects of trauma and disrupted childhood attachment. Nearly 40 years ago I saw a social worker/psychologist during university, just for a few sessions (long story as to why). In the second to last session, he asked me to fill out a questionnaire. When I saw all the boxes I would have to tick, I shut down. I *couldn't* be diagnosed with something. I returned the sheet blank and ended the sessions. I know now, though, that all those traits that would have then led to a diagnosis of OCD or anxiety (or whatever else) were actually coping mechanisms for the environment I was living in, and that if I were to see a therapist today, he or she would hopefully recognize that too.
Lastly, I have to reread Alice in Wonderland now. (Which I will very much enjoy.) Thank you, Rita, for writing these wonderful posts and taking us with you on this journey.
Well, I would love to see all the dozens of paragraphs, because your writing is always a journey, too. The kind I enjoy. I think I've been reaching a similar conclusion to yours about questions of why we are the way we are: There's no way of knowing. I think we can know parts. I think we know important things. But the putting it all together? That's a mystery. Monica, in her comment above, mentions complexity science, which I hadn't heard of. I think some things might always be outside our grasp, if only because we're always changing, and the world is, too.
As for keeping vs. feeding your head: In the song, feeding most likely refers to taking drugs, probably psychedelics, which isn't the kind of feeding I'm interested in. In that case, I'll go for keeping. I'm sure I thought it was "keep" because the Queen is always declaring "off with his head" whenever anyone displeases her. And she's mentioned in the song right before those lines. If you want the text of Alice, you can find it online here: https://www.alice-in-wonderland.net/resources/chapters-script/alices-adventures-in-wonderland/ I did not enjoy reading it this way, so I didn't re-read the whole thing, but it is there and free.
As for my thoughts on therapy...well. It can be so helpful. And also not. So much depends upon the therapist.
Thank you for the link to the text of Alice in Wonderland, Rita. I actually have a beautiful hardcover version, a “Classic Illustrated Edition” that contains pictures from many different editions that were published over the years. Some of the illustrations are black and white and some are colour, some show Alice as a blonde, some show her as a brunette, etc. I actually didn’t read the book when I was a child, and I bought this copy so I could I read it aloud to my children. You might remember me writing on my blog about the fact that I was not a well-read child. Reading all those classic books to my own kids, the ones that I, as an adult, knew that I had missed out on as a child, was hugely therapeutic.
Edited to add: I should clarify that when I say I laughed at the keep versus feed thing, I wasn’t laughing because *I* knew which word was correct, but rather just in general. Having only now (like half an hour ago) listened to the song (for the first time in a very long time), I confess I don’t think I have *ever* known what the lyrics said, and if pressed I would have guessed “keep ahead”!
I'm banishing the word "lazy" from my vocabulary. It's a lazy way of understanding something, you know? 🙂 (But for real. And no worries. I get you, too.)
Rita, I am so rarely here (and am actually feeling like I am so rarely anywhere these days, but that's another story), but thank you for writing and sharing this incredible series, and unpeeling yourself so thoughtfully for us all to consider and then reflect on our own selves as well.
I instinctively highlighted this phrase when reading: "I had a kind of energy for living." Because, well, I too feel like I don't really have an energy for living these days, these years. But that's a side note to your series' focus, which is: how do we make sense of ourselves? (And: do we ever?) I spent so many years trying to solve myself, and then I spent so many years trying to forgive myself (my therapist and I argued about that one a lot — all I could explain was that I had failed at surviving my parents without being marked by them, the one sole feverish promise I had relied on to pull me through a volatile childhood, and so I had to close the loop on that), and now I'm just trying to survive life in late-Capitalist, early-tech-disengagement America...
It is all exhausting. And I happened to write a little something today, which I rarely do anymore, because, frankly introspection often feels wasteful, when there is so much surviving to do. So I was happy to come across your beautiful, thoughtful, meandering posts, so much like the journey of understanding self itself. And I was, of course, as grateful as I always am to be reminded of the company of others who question, wonder, wander, ask, muse, despair, and share, so we can stay within the small company of us as we continue not to answer our own unanswerable musings. But we must stay engaged in coming to know ourselves, and we must be ever able to find small spaces to pause and feel known. Hoping this writing did some of that for you; I know I feel I know you better for reading it all. Sending you love and fortitude always, xo
I don’t have the brainpower to comment (sandwich generation shit for the win!!) but I am so grateful for your words and all the smart comments and conversations here always.
Haven’t read it yet but now I have Woodstock in my head. Joni or CSNY. You pick.
CSNY. And I wanted so much to weave that song more overtly into this essay, but it’s already too long. I knew you’d get the allusion, though. Did you know that Joni wasn’t at Woodstock? And that Grace Slick (who is in the essay) was?
I did! That’s what inspired the song. I love Joni but I prefer CSNY’s version.
Plus peri/menopause!!!! I appreciate the part about all the elements that make us who we are and how we don’t know for sure. I never thought I would be a teacher, but see why it works with ADHD etc…
I have been spared the ravages of peri/menopause (so far?), but from what I know of it from others, YES. I'm now wishing I could have found a way to stay in the classroom, because I can see how becoming an instructional coach and a district librarian was so incompatible with my brain (or whatever it is that makes me how I am). What I really wish is that I could have been a school-based librarian, and that I'd pursued that when I first wanted to. In my next life....
I’m so very interested in questions we do not have answers to. Complexity science is getting a foothold, but still, we can never unravel the forces that produce our bodies in any particular moment in time. This is part of what I am writing about, too. I do have a political answer to my question, but the truth will always be just outside of my grasp.
Dang, Monica--Your responses are always so interesting and always open up my mind. I had never heard of complexity science, which, yes. Maybe is a kind of yes, and? All my life, whenever I've wrestled with anything in a deep way, I get to a place where it (whatever it is) feels all tangled up in too many things. And, yeah: The truth always felt just outside my grasp. Now there's a name for that, I guess. I can add this (my inability to grasp complex things) to the list of things I once heading with "my failings" and now realize were about something else entirely.
As Stevie Nicks sang,”Just like the one-winged dove…” except she didn’t!!! I found out quite recently it is “ white winged.,” which is quite a let down, really, and then I also discovered the word, mondegreen which means a misunderstood lyric!
Well this is an entire garden tea party of a piece and I love meandering and musing along the connecting paths with you. I kept singing Alice as I was reading and felt so happy for the tune to meet me along the way.. I keep thinking “Go ask Alice” and thinking — YES, let’s effing ask Alice how she feels about all this, Mr. Carroll.
I had an image of your students in their desks with each one being a different flower in a garden.
And each puzzle piece is definitely its own picture and island— you made me think of Pangaea and the way each continent/ island is its own distinct culture and place with a border that could still float and fit back into place under the right conditions. I feel like the different parts and periods of my life coexist in me like a roughly repaired and hastily stitched Pangaea. Some borders chaffing and erupting more than others.
Not sure what any of this means except you made me think, feel, relate, and wonder and I am, as ever, so grateful.
“Hold me closer Tony Danza”
😂
But "Tiny Dancer" is the name of the song! And Tony Danza wasn't even a thing when it was popular?
It’s from Friends. Phoebe.
https://youtu.be/4o2u2RjEFHo?si=iv10Qs7gnWH4J7dd
Ah. Now it all makes sense 🙂
I feel like I’ve brought this up before, but the Joan Cusack scene in School of Rock with that Stevie song is perfect.
https://youtu.be/uPcxuYori64?si=IbIkQkJ83SQ1KjB6
Good god but I love Joan Cusack! And I forgot how much I liked that movie back in the day. Now I want to rewatch the whole thing. (I think teacher me was so much like Joan's character in this scene. Her insides did not match her outsides.)
“I keep thinking “Go ask Alice” and thinking — YES, let’s effing ask Alice how she feels about all this, Mr. Carroll.”
I cannot hear it as anything other than "one-winged." And I don't want to! What is a 17 year old if not a one-winged dove?
In my explorations I found a line by line analysis of the song as it connected (and didn't) to Alice's Adventures. Of course I could probably never find it again, but yeah, let's effing ask Alice. Even though I think there's probably more to the ending than "oh, she woke up and it was all over," to have Alice just happily skip off to tea does not sit right. I'm thinking she had some FEELINGS, after all that shrinking and growing and almost drowning and all the other things Wonderland put her through.
And, just as I will likely always carry your question about puzzle pieces, I'm now going to think about each epoch of my life as a continent. Thank you for that, and for always being here.
Thanks for creating this garden! Will be in any garden you grow or turnover! 💜
Hi Rita,
I don't even know where to begin, and I think if I touch on everything I want to say in response to this post my comment will be a dozen paragraphs long.
The way you describe your hypervigilance really hit home. This is exactly how I am as well, but I have the added bonus of anticipating catastrophe even when things are going fine. As an example, my youngest son recently started his summer co-op job, and instead of being able to think positively about it (what a great opportunity!) all I could do in the days leading up to him starting the job was to worry about ALL THE FUCKING THINGS that could go wrong. I sometimes wonder if this is just my wiring, if I would have been like this even if I didn't grow up with volatility and madness, but of course there's no way of knowing. Like Kari, I don't know what the fuck to do with any of it. The only thing I do know is that thinking too much about it leads me to some pretty dark places. I have read that hypervigilance is a useful evolutionary trait, so there is at least *something* positive about it.
"Keep your head" versus "feed your head." Oh my gosh, Rita, this gave me a laugh, because of course I've done the same kind of thing. (I'm racking my brain right now to remember an instance of this from just a few months ago and it's driving me crazy that I can't retrieve it.) I would actually say that keeping your head is SO much more important than feeding your head, but that's of course the hypervigilance talking, along with the visceral need I have to stay small and quiet and out of trouble.
I do think psychology is now catching up to the effects of trauma and disrupted childhood attachment. Nearly 40 years ago I saw a social worker/psychologist during university, just for a few sessions (long story as to why). In the second to last session, he asked me to fill out a questionnaire. When I saw all the boxes I would have to tick, I shut down. I *couldn't* be diagnosed with something. I returned the sheet blank and ended the sessions. I know now, though, that all those traits that would have then led to a diagnosis of OCD or anxiety (or whatever else) were actually coping mechanisms for the environment I was living in, and that if I were to see a therapist today, he or she would hopefully recognize that too.
Lastly, I have to reread Alice in Wonderland now. (Which I will very much enjoy.) Thank you, Rita, for writing these wonderful posts and taking us with you on this journey.
Well, I would love to see all the dozens of paragraphs, because your writing is always a journey, too. The kind I enjoy. I think I've been reaching a similar conclusion to yours about questions of why we are the way we are: There's no way of knowing. I think we can know parts. I think we know important things. But the putting it all together? That's a mystery. Monica, in her comment above, mentions complexity science, which I hadn't heard of. I think some things might always be outside our grasp, if only because we're always changing, and the world is, too.
As for keeping vs. feeding your head: In the song, feeding most likely refers to taking drugs, probably psychedelics, which isn't the kind of feeding I'm interested in. In that case, I'll go for keeping. I'm sure I thought it was "keep" because the Queen is always declaring "off with his head" whenever anyone displeases her. And she's mentioned in the song right before those lines. If you want the text of Alice, you can find it online here: https://www.alice-in-wonderland.net/resources/chapters-script/alices-adventures-in-wonderland/ I did not enjoy reading it this way, so I didn't re-read the whole thing, but it is there and free.
As for my thoughts on therapy...well. It can be so helpful. And also not. So much depends upon the therapist.
Thank you for the link to the text of Alice in Wonderland, Rita. I actually have a beautiful hardcover version, a “Classic Illustrated Edition” that contains pictures from many different editions that were published over the years. Some of the illustrations are black and white and some are colour, some show Alice as a blonde, some show her as a brunette, etc. I actually didn’t read the book when I was a child, and I bought this copy so I could I read it aloud to my children. You might remember me writing on my blog about the fact that I was not a well-read child. Reading all those classic books to my own kids, the ones that I, as an adult, knew that I had missed out on as a child, was hugely therapeutic.
Edited to add: I should clarify that when I say I laughed at the keep versus feed thing, I wasn’t laughing because *I* knew which word was correct, but rather just in general. Having only now (like half an hour ago) listened to the song (for the first time in a very long time), I confess I don’t think I have *ever* known what the lyrics said, and if pressed I would have guessed “keep ahead”!
Yes, yes, and YES and...
How's that for a lazy reply? 😆
Seriously though, I get it, and I fully relate to your way of processing everything.
I'm banishing the word "lazy" from my vocabulary. It's a lazy way of understanding something, you know? 🙂 (But for real. And no worries. I get you, too.)
"Yes, and. That is the key that might get us through the garden door."
YES AND. The holding of multiples. A skill that too often is forgotten about. Thanks for the reminder!
I've never gotten a tattoo, but if I did, maybe "yes, and" would be it. So I don't have to keep learning this lesson over and over again!
"Yes, and. That is the key that might get us through the garden door."
YES AND. The holding of multiples. A skill that too often is forgotten about. Thanks for the reminder!
Rita, I am so rarely here (and am actually feeling like I am so rarely anywhere these days, but that's another story), but thank you for writing and sharing this incredible series, and unpeeling yourself so thoughtfully for us all to consider and then reflect on our own selves as well.
I instinctively highlighted this phrase when reading: "I had a kind of energy for living." Because, well, I too feel like I don't really have an energy for living these days, these years. But that's a side note to your series' focus, which is: how do we make sense of ourselves? (And: do we ever?) I spent so many years trying to solve myself, and then I spent so many years trying to forgive myself (my therapist and I argued about that one a lot — all I could explain was that I had failed at surviving my parents without being marked by them, the one sole feverish promise I had relied on to pull me through a volatile childhood, and so I had to close the loop on that), and now I'm just trying to survive life in late-Capitalist, early-tech-disengagement America...
It is all exhausting. And I happened to write a little something today, which I rarely do anymore, because, frankly introspection often feels wasteful, when there is so much surviving to do. So I was happy to come across your beautiful, thoughtful, meandering posts, so much like the journey of understanding self itself. And I was, of course, as grateful as I always am to be reminded of the company of others who question, wonder, wander, ask, muse, despair, and share, so we can stay within the small company of us as we continue not to answer our own unanswerable musings. But we must stay engaged in coming to know ourselves, and we must be ever able to find small spaces to pause and feel known. Hoping this writing did some of that for you; I know I feel I know you better for reading it all. Sending you love and fortitude always, xo
I don’t have the brainpower to comment (sandwich generation shit for the win!!) but I am so grateful for your words and all the smart comments and conversations here always.