Misty-foggy-almost-spring
Hello all!
The world is damp with mist and melting snow. Every time I come up my front steps, I peer into my garden to see if there's anything coming up through the snow piles, but no luck yet--though I hear tell, from people who keep porch gardens, that the chamomile and leeks are making an appearance. In the windows of the Grand Cafe yesterday morning, great huge bunches of crocuses and daffodils caught the sunlight and lit the whole place in pastels. And today's that kind of foggy day that makes me want to curl up with the dachshunds and read a book--The Lacuna (Barbara Kingsolver) and The House of Tomorrow (by local Peter Bognanni) both come highly recommended, and if I was in the business of recommending how I spend my own day, I would recommend a long, long read.
But it just isn't that sort of day. I've got a column to write, and a chapter to begin in the new Hazelden book, and a lecture to prepare--this may not all happen today, I suppose, but a girl can dream.
Life this past month was most sluggish and slow. I had a case of the Februaries. You're familiar with these, I suspect? And I spent the better part of the month feeling like I was beating my head on my desk as if that might knock some useful thoughts out my ears. No luck, though. I think I got a thing or two done--well, I know I did, because there are things on my desk that weren't there before--but it was not one of those months where I go sailing peacefully through words. Words defied me entirely. Also, I spent the better portion of the month in a pair of ratty sweatpants. Hence, last night, when I had to go to an Oscars Party (??), getting into some fancy getup felt like putting on someone else's shoes. But I did it. And my friends, the party was a terrific bore. It occurred to me too late that I do not really like the Oscars, and a friend had reminded me the day before that I had no idea what was up for a single award. True fact. I had no business being there, so I went traipsing home to bed & a book.
On a completely different note, I had the amazing opportunity to give a talk at a women's prison a few weeks ago. It was incredible. The women had boatloads of questions and comments on everything from racial imbalance in access to treatment, to whether meds were really necessary for mental illness, to which character I most identified with in Center of Winter--they were smart, funny, and beyond inspiring. I may get the wonderful chance to be helping out with a book club there soon, and if I do get to, I will count myself beyond lucky.
Those of you who have interest--are you registered for the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA) national convention this year? If not, get to it! I want to meet you! And you'll get the chance to hear Kay Redfield Jameson as well--do not miss!
Other upcomings: For Indiana residents, I'll be speaking at the NAMI Indiana state conference this fall (October 9). And for Canada folks--or folks who want to GO to Canada--I'll be speaking in Calgary on October 6, at the Organization for Bipolar and Affective Disorders. Also speaking at that event will be Andy Behrman, author of Electroboy. All of these should be great events.
Mist is clinging to my window screen, and I hold out hope that soon the rains will come and wash this snow away in one great whoosh. March is finally here, the Februaries have lifted, and though it's gray and dreary out, I'm almost certain my garden is under those snow piles, stirring and unfolding and getting ready to burst through. Happy almost-spring to all of you!
Be well,
Marya
The world is damp with mist and melting snow. Every time I come up my front steps, I peer into my garden to see if there's anything coming up through the snow piles, but no luck yet--though I hear tell, from people who keep porch gardens, that the chamomile and leeks are making an appearance. In the windows of the Grand Cafe yesterday morning, great huge bunches of crocuses and daffodils caught the sunlight and lit the whole place in pastels. And today's that kind of foggy day that makes me want to curl up with the dachshunds and read a book--The Lacuna (Barbara Kingsolver) and The House of Tomorrow (by local Peter Bognanni) both come highly recommended, and if I was in the business of recommending how I spend my own day, I would recommend a long, long read.
But it just isn't that sort of day. I've got a column to write, and a chapter to begin in the new Hazelden book, and a lecture to prepare--this may not all happen today, I suppose, but a girl can dream.
Life this past month was most sluggish and slow. I had a case of the Februaries. You're familiar with these, I suspect? And I spent the better part of the month feeling like I was beating my head on my desk as if that might knock some useful thoughts out my ears. No luck, though. I think I got a thing or two done--well, I know I did, because there are things on my desk that weren't there before--but it was not one of those months where I go sailing peacefully through words. Words defied me entirely. Also, I spent the better portion of the month in a pair of ratty sweatpants. Hence, last night, when I had to go to an Oscars Party (??), getting into some fancy getup felt like putting on someone else's shoes. But I did it. And my friends, the party was a terrific bore. It occurred to me too late that I do not really like the Oscars, and a friend had reminded me the day before that I had no idea what was up for a single award. True fact. I had no business being there, so I went traipsing home to bed & a book.
On a completely different note, I had the amazing opportunity to give a talk at a women's prison a few weeks ago. It was incredible. The women had boatloads of questions and comments on everything from racial imbalance in access to treatment, to whether meds were really necessary for mental illness, to which character I most identified with in Center of Winter--they were smart, funny, and beyond inspiring. I may get the wonderful chance to be helping out with a book club there soon, and if I do get to, I will count myself beyond lucky.
Those of you who have interest--are you registered for the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA) national convention this year? If not, get to it! I want to meet you! And you'll get the chance to hear Kay Redfield Jameson as well--do not miss!
Other upcomings: For Indiana residents, I'll be speaking at the NAMI Indiana state conference this fall (October 9). And for Canada folks--or folks who want to GO to Canada--I'll be speaking in Calgary on October 6, at the Organization for Bipolar and Affective Disorders. Also speaking at that event will be Andy Behrman, author of Electroboy. All of these should be great events.
Mist is clinging to my window screen, and I hold out hope that soon the rains will come and wash this snow away in one great whoosh. March is finally here, the Februaries have lifted, and though it's gray and dreary out, I'm almost certain my garden is under those snow piles, stirring and unfolding and getting ready to burst through. Happy almost-spring to all of you!
Be well,
Marya
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