Illuminating My Fellow Illumination Writers
On when it’s time to take a hiatus
Dipti Pande wrote to us the other day about how busy she’s been with her practice and how much she has missed the exchanges which have allowed her to interact with many of us in this community. I can relate.
As one of the first Illumination writers at Dr Mehmet Yildiz’s request, I leapt on early, and continued to be active. I have a habit of tagging and reaching out to other writers, which when our numbers were much smaller some time back was a lot easier. And, like Dipti, I had more time a few months ago.
Now I don’t. Yesterday I read an invitation by Dr. Y which was great but I don’t have the time. I have seen other challenges and invitations which sound lovely but I can’t participate. The last seven weeks I have been living between two cities, moving my considerable house, packing, trying to sell, trying to find place to buy, existing in a loud and busy hostel, not sleeping much, doing my level best to adhere to a reasonable exercise program so that I don’t lose too much health in the process.
Right now I’m writing from the basement of a friend’s home in Denver, a long list of repairs demanded by my buyer. My Eugene home gets inspected next week. My friend’s cats puked on the carpet down here, her dog peed a few times, so any excursion to the toilet at night involved land mines. I expect that in the woods, not on nice carpet. I am not without humor but I am exhausted.
I am exceedingly lucky I have a friend who allows me to crash in her basement. In a few days I move into the downstairs bedroom of my house under contract, where I will camp on the floor (there is no furniture) until we get the repairs done. Then I have to drive cross country again to unload the final U-Haul shipment on July 16th. After that I have no idea.
My house in Eugene may or may not be ready for several weeks. I have no clue where I am going to be for those weeks. I’d love to camp if the grounds are open. That means all my work to restart my workout programs will again be on hold. Life.
I cannot possibly express how stressful that is. As much as I love being a vagabond, I need a home base, a tap root. I can’t nest until a whole series of dominoes gets pushed over. It’s been like this for almost eighteen months, with the worst of it right now as I wait for other people to finish work, sign papers, take actions. Meanwhile, I hang between trapezes.
There have been some very funny stories along the way, which I will tell when I get to the point where I have a bit of time luxury.
It would be hard to express how this kind of existence creates immense empathy for those panhandling on the street corners, terrified of the inevitable evictions, and who are going to lose that ever-so-important extra $600 a week which has kept them alive. Lest you think this is all about me, kindly let me disabuse you of that notion. These experiences, while stressful, are immensely important lessons and insights. I’d be a fool to ignore them.
It’s not the first time I felt unattached. I have been homeless. This isn’t quite the same thing, but it can feel that way. Not what most folks expect at 67, but look. After years of adventure travel, I am better at this than most, even if my desire to decorate my own damned house surrounded by rain forest (it’s coming) can be overwhelming at times.
I can look back at various recent articles and track those days when my body was in terrible pain and I was stressed out of my gourd. Our writing leaks it.
I continue to write. I use any surface I can, I find wi-fi when I can, and I write about what matters to me.
In the last week, I’ve finally been able to secure medical care, body care (massage and chiropractic) which have considerably eased the physical challenges of too much sitting, driving, and not enough regular work and stretching. Just getting in and out of my car had become painful. One chiro session and my fluidity has returned. That’s how important body work is. Think of how so many of us cannot get it, cannot afford it at all.
Over these last few months, I’ve watched with genuine delight as my fellow Illumination members’ numbers have swollen and Dr. Y’s dream of an inclusive environment continues to evolve. On one hand, given the circumstances, the sheer numbers means that I can’t take the time to peruse so many articles. I have to pick and choose.
To that, a story. A while back I responded to a comment by fellow writer Rosennab. I researched her, she lives in Colorado Springs, just south of where I was at the time. We’ve been talking, writing and working together since. Last Sunday I spent some three plus hours at her house.
As I’ve written elsewhere, one of the important side benefits of having diverse voices and a welcoming environment on Medium and specifically, what Dr. Y created with Illumination, is that varied voices are welcomed voices. We find each other, and as our community swells, we also have to start making thoughtful choices about where we are going to not only do our reading but also spend our time.
Timothy Key wrote me that I’d be delighted meeting Rosenna; that’s an understatement. Rosenna and I share a lot of things, and one of them is the commitment to being open to each other’s viewpoints. Our budding relationship was tested and forged during the initial George Floyd protests. That we were able to move through those very difficult weeks together with mutual respect means a great deal to me as a white woman attending a brilliant Black woman. Her words resonate particularly well with me, and I have grown as a writer and a person through that connection.
If nothing else came out of all my time on Illumination other than my friendship with Dr. Bakari I would count myself incredibly fortunate indeed.
Here is my point. As I read the success stories of my fellow Illumination authors (with thanks to Arthur G. Hernandez for the shoutout) I want to echo something that Dr. Bakari pointed out.
Had it not been for Dr. Y’s dedication to this community, had it not been for our heartfelt collective efforts to rescue our community when a toxic member took us off Medium (and we returned, triumphant), you and I as Illumination contributors would not have such a supportive, caring, collaborative community. Dr. Bakari may not have returned after several very difficult weeks (she has a 28-yo very tall son who walks many places, please imagine her daily fears). But she did, because she feels welcomed, because she is.
I’ve been particularly delighted to see people like Sharon Hurley Hall and others join the ranks, people whose articles have added real depth to points I have hoped to make during these tumultuous times. Without that rich diversity, Illumination cannot shine.
That I can’t regularly tag more writers, meet more folks and engage in the challenges all mean that I am a bit overwhelmed, not uninterested. My life circumstances are daunting, but not as daunting as many. I am about to head out for a dawn hike, today we tackle the to-do list for my house, I deal with what’s in front of me. Life moves forward.
If I have any advice for those new to Illumination, I would strongly advise you to reach out to those writers whose work speaks to you. Have a real conversation. If you’re close by, meet. This is a community that is designed to build trust, connection, conversation and skills. Use it. I have to more carefully curate those authors whose words force me to grow the most, like Rosenna’s, for they make me a better person and writer.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care about new articles. There are too many, and I have to make hard choices. That said, those choices I’ve made so far have been incredible.
If you’re just starting out on this publication, cherry pick who speaks to you, whose writing invites you to rise, who challenges you. This isn’t just about eyeballs and claps and curation. For my part, and I can only speak for myself, Dr. Y’s human experiment in creating a welcoming, diverse and collaborative environment works. If you play at a high level, it pays at a high level, in far more than just money.
Because brilliant friends are priceless.
