Yeah, I know. It’s been a while. Bad Blog Monday has morphed into No Blog Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday for a few months now. The real answer is that I feel like I haven’t had many thoughts worthy of writing down. Maybe I’m just tired. Many would agree that 2020 has been exhausting. Maybe I’m being too hard on myself. Maybe I’m down in the dumps because no matter how hard I try, stuff just seems to fall apart or go any way but according to plan. Maybe it’s something else. I’ve never claimed to have it together or to understand the ever-changing circumstances of my life.
August 10, 2020 brought the infamous Derecho storm to the city of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, my current residence. Power was out for almost two weeks on my street. As if 2020 hadn’t hurt enough businesses and Americans already, a rare land hurricane did not help matters in Iowa. It will be a long time before we recover.
I was at one of my jobs when the storm warnings started coming in. Thankfully, everyone was sent home before the 100+ mph winds and rain swept through a city unprepared for hurricane-like conditions. I waited out the storm in the bathroom with the dogs. My parents had my nephew and didn’t make it home before the winds hit their worst. They were stuck in their car outside their house, praying they didn’t tip over or get hit by debris. It wasn’t safe to make a run for the house. Back at my house, it wasn’t long before large thuds and crashing sounds began competing with the wind. One large crash brought with it a loss of power that wouldn’t be restored for two weeks.
As the winds died down and the rain stopped, I ventured out of my bathroom to survey the damage. I wasn’t prepared for what I would find. Neighbor’s cars and homes crushed or severely damaged by fallen trees. My neighbor’s beautiful tree came inches from taking out my garage. My beautiful tree narrowly missed my house. Thank God for that. My roof was thrashed. Water was coming into the laundry room, but that was nothing compared to what many others within the city were being faced with: total loss.
About an hour after the worst of it passed, I witnessed the reason the term “Midwest Nice” exists. I met neighbors I’d never spoken to before because I keep to myself mostly. The street was blocked on both ends by trees, but people came out of the woodwork to help each other. When I left to walk to my sister’s house down the street to check on her, a (still) unknown neighbor finished piling up the debris in my yard for me.
And then we all waited to get power back. The next morning, I grabbed my flashlight and propped it up in the bathroom before taking a cold shower. Nothing like a cold shower to wake you right up in the morning. But I had a shower. Then I walked into the kitchen to make coffee like usual. Ahem, no power, genius. I rolled my eyes and went through the cabinets. I made mocha brownies at one point that called for instant coffee. The jar was still there. I measured the granules and turned on the faucet.
“Instant coffee and tap water, the breakfast of Derecho champions,” I chuckled to myself. But the inevitable caffeine headache was avoided that morning. Appreciate the little things, right?
I’m really trying to appreciate 2020 and what it’s showing me. As I try to make sense of it and make plans to counteract it, I know I need to learn from it and move forward.
Here are 10 things 2020 has taught me thus far:
1. It’s my job (and no one else’s) to educate myself about history and current events. I need to be more proactive about that. The loudest voices are not always the wisest, nor are they always a representative of a group as a whole. A headline condenses the complicated into a few words. Understanding the complicated takes an open mind and a proactive interest in understanding.
2. Empathy is not endorsement. I listened to Dylan Marron’s TED Talk recently, and I appreciate his viewpoint. As a man who has received a lot of hate online, he chose to reach out and start a conversation with his haters. He chose to see the humanness in the people who thought very differently. I thought about what he said a lot, and I think there are many instances in my life where I could be more empathetic and see the humanness in those who don’t think like me or those who criticize me without really knowing me. As Dylan said, being empathetic toward someone doesn’t mean you’re endorsing their actions or beliefs. It doesn’t make what they did or said okay. It means you’re willing to dig deeper than that and ask the “why?” questions. Empathy is a key ingredient to starting a conversation with someone who might disagree with you. I think his viewpoints have merit in a few aspects of my life, and I need to probably explore that further.
3. American history centers around liberty and freedom. Unfortunately, the liberties the founding fathers fought for were not extended to all races within the nation at the time. Recent events have magnified the reality that the battle to end racism has been (and continues to be) an incredibly long one.
4. I am a writer. I am not happy when I’m not writing. Essentially, I’ve become the writer every jaded writer says most first-time authors will inevitably become. They start with a positive can-do attitude, optimistically anticipating big sales and big paychecks to write Book #2. My first book has been out a year, and here I am. I’m the jaded pessimistic writer with a closet full of unsold books, cancelled speaking gigs due to COVID, and writers block for days because…why bother? Most writers don’t make a living at writing, and I never wanted writing to wind up a forever hobby. This year has shown me that I need to write to be myself. Guess that makes me a writer then. It’s okay to be frustrated with my passion, but it’s not okay to do nothing about it.
5. Dessert is amazing. I restricted myself from dessert for a long time, reserving it for only special occasions. I credit my boyfriend for getting me out of that mindset. Enjoying a dessert regularly and in moderation is not going to tip the scales. And if it does, 1-2 pounds doesn’t matter.
6. My four-year-old nephew is more honest and forthcoming than most politicians. I’ve been saving to get a treadmill, and I finally took the plunge this year. It got delivered this week, and I told my nephew not to touch any of the buttons because he could get hurt. He didn’t listen and I had to pull the emergency stop pin while he iron-gripped the handles while the tread was gaining speed (he hit the 12mph button). His shoes were dragging behind him, little bits of rubber coming off onto the belt. Thankfully, he was unharmed, but we still had a talk. He looked at me and with a scared and shaky voice said, “Auntie Mel, I need a hug.” Me too, buddy. Bring it in! His heart was beating so fast as I held him. He never went near the treadmill again and hasn’t since. I didn’t make it a big deal to my sister, but when they came over on Halloween, he told my sister what happened when he saw the treadmill. I’ll just leave this here.
7. Humility. COVID has humbled me. For the first time in my life, I had to address things like becoming unemployed (not by choice), creative ways to make ends meet financially while protecting savings and investments, CARES Act options, etc. Life isn’t all about money, of course, but it’s a requirement for life. COVID has allowed me to refocus on what actually matters and what is actually needed. It’s humbling and freeing to get rid of the things I can do without, but it also has provided me with some clarity moving forward.
8. To me, voting is like pooping on the toilet. It’s something you’re supposed to do – even expected to do each and every time – but it’s annoying when you brag about it each time you do it. Look, be a proud American. Vote and be proud of it. Wear the “I Voted” sticker. But that sticker has turned into the adult “gold star” to flaunt all over social media this year. Seriously. Stop editing your freaking selfies and research your candidates outside of mainstream media. Do the legwork, and cast an educated vote. An early vote flaunted on social media doesn’t earn any extra gold stars in my book. The educated votes are the ones that make the difference. I’d double tap a photo with a sticker that said, “I waited a couple extra days to vote because I was still researching my options because I acknowledge I’m probably not as informed as I should be.” Coming off my soapbox now. I make a point of NOT writing politically-charged posts, and the topic of informed voting should be important to all Americans, not just those affiliated with a certain party. Don’t @ me.
SIDE NOTE: TOMORROW IS ELECTION DAY
9. Celebrities have typically annoyed me. I had to deal with a lot of them as a Secret Service agent in Los Angeles. I don’t get star struck, and I can’t think of any celebrity I respect or admire with any more reverence than I feel toward a family member or friend who demonstrates authenticity and kindness. But once in a while, a celebrity will come up with a few nuggets of wisdom that will stick with me. Halsey released a live album this year, and during the concert she made the following statement:
“I'vе learned to stop being so hard on myself, for changing, and for growing, and for learning. I don't usually like giving a ton of advice during my shows because, I mean, what the **** do I know that you don't know? I'm a disaster. But if I do give you one piece of advice right now, I want to remind you that if you lose yourself, it is never too late to find yourself again. And when you stumble upon the person that you used to be, they will be so happy to see you.”
I appreciate how far I’ve come in the past few years, and especially in 2020. If today’s thirty-something Mel could meet twenty-something Mel, I know she’d be really happy to see me. And I hope thirty-something Mel is equally as excited to meet forty-something Mel, because I know I’m not done yet.
10. Lastly, instant coffee is no Peet’s Coffee (#missingCalifornia), but combined with tap water after a Derecho storm, it provided a much-needed perspective check. The granules take a while to dissolve in tap water, but a cup of coffee is a cup of coffee, an opportunity to pause (and caffeinate) and appreciate the blessings I have.