Miles to go
It feels like there are new disasters every month, and when there aren’t, there are ongoing ones to chew over. I’ve struggled for the last few years against my own inclination to disengage. It’s a lasting side-effect from burning out spectacularly; first in 2015 from organizing a union, and then again in 2019 from grad school and job searching. Disengagement is a self-protective impulse that is unfortunately maladapted to the times.
Where I grew up, January is the deep freeze month. After the joyousness of the December holidays, January trudged in with heavy boots. It’s about 20 degrees (Fahrenheit) in my hometown right now, colder in the mountains, with some light snow expected overnight. That’s about the best you can expect in between blizzards and cold snaps.
Vermonters lean into it, finding reasons to be outside in the cold: winter hiking, skiing, snowboarding. My mom has a print somewhere in her house that says “It is almost always better if you go outside.” Which is quite the thesis statement for a place in the woods with bears, coyotes, and temperatures that are regularly in the single digits in the morning. If you have to be brutalized by the weather, it’s not a bad idea to do it in the deep, quiet woods. (Robert Frost was a bit of a dick, but he got that much right.)
I wouldn’t call myself an indoor kid, but I was the odd one out, always wanted to hibernate through January’s brutal ambience. I remember so many nights of walking home in the dark after a 4:30 sunset, wishing I was already there.
But being in the world legitimately made the days better. In Vermont, in Chicago, and in the PNW (which didn’t freeze, but had miserably gray, damp winters), I fended off winter depression through forcing myself out into the world.
Disaster is never far off, and there are so many voices in the world encouraging us to turn away, turn inward, protect ourselves instead of each other. January is a good time for re-calibrating, choosing your focus, moving intentionally and with care. There are spaces for living between freezing and burning out.
And speaking of myriad disasters:
Astoria Bookshop, which was my local indie bookstore before it became my employer, has had a ton of unexpected renovations after discovering that our floors were basically a catastrophe in waiting. You can order signed copies of my books from Astoria Bookshop, as well as books I recommend, as well as basically any other book? (Preorders are especially awesome right now, and we ship worldwide). Alternatively, you can support them through Libro.fm.
You have probably heard about the wildfires in LA. Here is a round-up of ways to help, courtesy of LAist. I know a few animation folks have also linked to this gofundme for Jordan Mitchell.
If you want to support me and my work, you can leave a rating/review for my books on Goodreads or Storygraph. Since tax season is about to wipe out my savings, I’d be remiss in not mentioning that I’ve got a Patreon and Tip Jar as well.