Week 27
View from the houseboats
I experienced a veritable smorgasbord of emotions (and experiences) this week. It’s been wild. Friday-Monday was the challenge with the high AQI, including Theo’s energy and my spouse’s profound frustration not being able to get outside. Sunday-Tuesday was dealing with grief – my aunt, my mom’s sister, died this weekend, and though it was better circumstances than expected, all sorts of grief bubbled up. She was the fifth family member of mine who has died in the last two years. Monday - Wednesday was extreme anxiety – lots of urgent and important to-do items. Tuesday - Thursday was delight in improved air quality, including outdoor bike rides and a sail. Thursday was learning about and thinking through the implications of the first asymptomatic COVID+ teacher case at Theo’s school and Theo’s favorite teacher being out for 2 weeks due to a family exposure (UCSF and DPH are highly involved in risk assessment, so I’m feeling reassured and glad that kids age 3+ have been wearing masks for 2 weeks now). Here at the end of the week I can report: I’m feeling decent, which is a marker of how much my investments in sources of resilience are paying off (and how much clean air and sunshine helps).
(Re)Learnings and observations
Reflecting on how this started: Last Friday I joined the Division zoom call about pandemic parenting. We talked about the importance of connecting with others, of helping each other (in part by modeling) self-care, time off, and other methods for managing the mental health crisis that is pandemic parenting amid all these other crises. That is, more or less, why I started these missives six months ago – to connect with others, to share (especially to mentees) what I was doing in that moment to cope, to model that it was ok to not be ok and yet to find ways to move forward with life and work. It was an instinct born from learning resilience with all the losses of the last two years.
I found it particularly helpful to hear from others about their own experiences with parent deaths – especially when someone went through a similar experience and articulated their grief in a way that resonated. It also helped when colleagues and mentors gave strong recommendations about what I could skip and how/when to attend to my own whole self rather than work goals (because in that moment, it wasn’t something I could do myself).
Thus, these missives are intended to do the same: to create a sense of community amid the crises, and a accountability partner. As a reminder, if they are not your style or they are increasing your stress or adding to your burden - please ask me to take you off the list. I will not take it personally. I learned with grief that some people's stories or ways of processing aren't the right fit – and that’s ok.
Balancing: Wednesday I reached a limit and made the decision to take advantage of a high tide, low AQI, and an afternoon without meetings – I went for a solo sail. A Laser – my new geriatric boat – is a one-person racing dingy. So much of the way I sail is instinctive – sometimes I’m aiming for a goal, sometimes I’m just balancing on the edge of my ability to maintain a tack, bowing my whole body out to balance the sail. When I’m off, I either get a luff in the sail or risk of the boat capsizing. To risk another extended metaphor – this feels much like my professional life this year. There have been many times where I’m flying at the edge of my capacity but it feels so perfect and exhilarating. And then I overbalance and fall apart, or when I can’t fill my sails and make due being inefficient. All normal.
Academic research as a metaphor for 2020. This weekend my spouse was sharing that he is really struggling with the way that he made so many plans this year to do things he loves (cycling, backpacking, trips) that 2020 not only makes it impossible, but impossible in extra challenging ways (e.g. wildfires on top of the pandemic). My spouse and I are very different people, so our marriage pushes me to be more sympathetic to ways of thinking and processing that are completely foreign to my brain. In general, I’ve been more resilient to all the ways 2020 kicks you when you’re down than my spouse. I attribute this in part to the fact that academic research teaches you persistence in the face of repeated failure. For example, I really need to send a manuscript to another journal – it’s already been rejected from 7 others. From this I’ve re-learned, a) that I should spend my time writing better papers, and b) I have a new record I can set for number of journals before publication. Theo was telling me that something in his school room broke this week, and I responded by telling him that when things break, that means there’s an opportunity to do something new, different, or better.
Just because you failed yesterday doesn’t mean you will fail tomorrow: The extended metaphors that continue to work towards my resilience include “practice” and “experiment”. I’m not bad at something, I just haven’t practiced enough (or possibly haven’t slept enough). If one way of organizing my time and week isn’t working, it’s time to experiment with something else – what works changes in different seasons. This approach has been forced on me more since having a kid. Some part of life seems to need reinventing every 3 months or so as Theo makes developmental leaps. Right now, Theo – who historically ate nearly everything – has started objecting to something every dinner. So we are trying new assemble-your-own-bowl dinners to activate Theo’s buy-in and sense of autonomy.
Pay yourself first: A colleague introduced the concept of “secret work days” which is putting up an email away message to have a socially acceptable excuse to not looking at email or take any meetings in order to gain the time and space to get other work things done (obviously this is far more complex for my colleagues with clinical duties). This person took a whole week off, which sounds like a great way to make progress on a bolus of work. It seems like it could also be a way to trick yourself into scheduling time for your own needs and honoring it, rather than accommodating others’ needs at expense of your own. It’s amazing how hard this can be – I attempted to take 3 days off (Friday, Monday and Tuesday) and only managed two partial days (I need a better plan for how to actually take my next staycation)..
Actions to support Black and other people of color: I participated in another call about building a collaboration with a science pipeline program for high school students from systematically excluded populations (e.g. Black, Latinx, low-SES, and other groups) and integrating it into our other mentoring programs in the Division of Geriatrics, like the MSTAR program, as a mechanism for long-term sustainability. I also continued reading Autobiography of Malcom X and Bad Feminist.
Gratitude & appreciation
For you, for reading this. Writing these weekly letters has allowed me to process the multitude of crises that have become normal life in 2020. I appreciate those of you who respond (though you should feel no pressure to respond). I am so grateful for the people I work with at UCSF. I learn so much from every collaboration, and that includes people who are first-authoring papers I am senior authoring.
For random acts of kindness. A friend randomly sent Theo a t-shirt, book, and toys. We had hidden them away for a moment when we needed help, and that moment arrived this weekend when Theo had a rough night of sleep (meaning we all did). He had so much fun playing with those surprise toys that I forgave my friend for sending plastic things that made noise. I’m terrible at getting thank you notes in the mail these days, but I do try to gratitude emails anytime I am feeling appreciative of a particular person or their actions.
For fans and airfilters on the hot and smoky days.
For low AQI and and sun on much better days.
For being able, in small ways, to invest in the work of artists during the pandemic. I’ve gotten quite a few ceramic and jewelry pieces, but my most recent purchase was a small piece of art depicting Junia, because it said it was “for women who have spoken up against sexism. It is for women who are called divisive, insubordinate, rebellious and too loud. May we never stop using our voices."
The UCSF Laurel Heights center director for being so kind and transparent about the process of figuring out how to handle (and message to kids) the first COVID+ case.
Oddly, for the pandemic normalizing people acknowledging when they are not ok, and for giving me excuses to reorganize my life to better suit current needs and patterns.
For my spouse advocating and enabling me to get out on the Wednesday sail and work through some of those intense feelings.
For having developed mechanisms to prioritize self-care over the last few years, including tracking self-care activities in my journal so that I’m remembering the variety of things I could be doing and honoring my investments in myself.
As in past weeks, I invite you to report in on your wellbeing, share your goal of a tiny step towards a passion project (and perhaps a second goal of a collaboration, if we have one) and report in on your progress from last week's goals.
Thinking of you and hoping you and your loved ones stay healthy and safe.
Krista