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In Pursuit of ‘Stubborn Gladness’

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
One view of our back patio garden.

More and more, I find myself in a conscious pursuit of happiness. And calm. And simple moments of joy.

Like most people, I find it too easy to become overwhelmed and frightened by the news.

When I was a teacher, my students had “independent time.” During that time they completed “must do’s,” and when those were done, they could choose something from the “may do” list. 

I know my days should not only be filled with “must do’s” such as homeschooling my sixth grade son, cleaning the house, paying the bills, and cooking the meals. 

I know that it is just as important to incorporate “may do’s” into my day – things that fill me with happiness, things I do for the simple pleasure it brings me.

And I’m lucky. There are plenty of things that bring me joy at home. 

I read. Books and magazines. Non-fiction and fiction. 

I tend to my garden – both the back patio and front porch. I sweep the jacaranda flowers, pull weeds, and water my plants. My son and I go outside every day for a neighborhood walk and sometimes a bike ride.

But, these things that take me outside of the house and bring me joy also bring me additional pain.

Since this pandemic shutdown, my pain has been consistently worse. Sometimes it’s immediate. From the moment I wake up in the morning, often after a fitful night’s sleep, my legs feel heavy. Each step makes me feel like I have invisible weights strapped around my lower legs. Sometimes the pain gradually increases as the day goes on, until one trip back up the stairs leaves my knees creaking loudly and me gripping the banister, taking each step very slowly, very cautiously. Sometimes, I may be reading on my patio, swatting away a fly, and my jeans suddenly feel very tight and restrictive around my left calf. And all I can think of is David Schwimmer’s character, Ross, struggling with his leather pants in a Friends episode. Except when it happened to him, it was funny. When it happens to me, it means it’s time for me to go inside and roll up my pants so my calf doesn’t feel the fabric against it. 

And sometimes, my pain wasn’t too bad until I squatted down to pull weeds or on the way back home after a mile-long walk with my son. 

Yet, I continue doing these things. When so many other simple pleasures have been taken – browsing my local bookstore, enjoying French Crepes at the Farmers Market – I continue to do these things that make me happy in the name of “stubborn gladness.” 

(In case you missed it, click here to read an earlier blog post, “Announcing My Motto For Life” which explains the term “stubborn gladness.”) 

And you, dear readers? How do you find joy and moments of pleasure during these challenging times? Feel free to share in the comments section. 

 

10 Ways Our Family is Dealing with the Shutdown

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

During one of our daily neighborhood walks, my twelve-year-old son said out loud what most of us have been thinking.

“This is hard.”

It is hard. It’s hard when the world, as he’s always known it, is so vastly different. It’s hard when he can’t hug and kiss his grandparents. When he can’t go to school (and this is a boy who loves school). 

We talked about it. About how sometimes it’s easier than others. Sometimes it doesn’t even seem so bad. We’re all sleeping in a bit later than we would be if the world was back to normal. 

And other times, it just feels like too much. Too many unanswered questions. Too many fears.

I’m a list person. So I thought one way to help would be to make a list of the ways in which our family is doing good, the ways we’re helping and contributing. Because we have it easy. We’re not frontline workers. We are able to pay our bills each month and continue to put food on the table. 

And the best part of the list is realizing that there are so many ways each of us can help. 

1. Follow the guidelines.  We keep our distance when we’re out walking or biking in the neighborhood, and we’re washing our hands more than we ever did before.

2. Shopping only when needed.  I used to go to the market weekly. It was something my son and I did each Saturday. But now, venturing into the market feels like I’m entering a battle zone. I’m armed with my hand sanitizer and mask. I try not to browse. I check my list, get in, and get out as quickly as possible. And I’m stocking up so we don’t have to go out each week.

3. Thanking others.  I don’t always get to the door quickly enough to offer our mail carrier or delivery person a bottle of water. But after we hear the mail drop through the slot or a box bang against our front door, we yell out “thank you.” I hope the delivery person hears us. I hope it makes them smile.

4. Support local spots.  We visit one of our favorite cafes each week. We purchase lunch and bring it back home. It saves me from preparing a meal, but more than that, it provides some monetary support to a small business.

5. Make a monetary donation.  We learned through our favorite cafe (see #4 above) that there was a way to help not only the cafe but our frontline workers as well. Restaurants are preparing meals that are then delivered to local doctors and nurses. It’s a win-win for everyone, and a cause our family felt good about donating to.

6.  Shop online.  I don’t think I’ve ever done this much online shopping before. I like to browse. To wander in my local Barnes and Noble (click here to read my blog post “Who Else Misses Libraries and Bookstores?”). To go to Target not just with a list of things I need but with an eye open for a surprise, an unexpected treasure that would make a great gift for a family member or friend. Instead, we’re being responsible, buying online the things we need, and once in a while, a few items we want. (I recently ordered former President Barack Obama’s memoir Dreams from My Father, a book that has been on my want-to-read list for several years now.)

7.  Purchase With a Cause.  Originally we were wearing the masks that were included in our emergency backpacks. They got the job done, but they were rather scratchy and plain looking. We’ve since upgraded to “Los Angeles Clippers Face Coverings.” Not only are we protecting ourselves and others while showing our team spirit, all proceeds are donated to Feeding America. 

8.  8:00 pm Cheering.  Each night at 8:00 pm, our family either opens the front door or stands near one of our windows and starts cheering. My son whoops and hollers like he’s at a Clippers game. My husband and I clap our hands. When we pause, we hear others clapping and shouting and horns honking. It’s one small way to show our appreciation to our frontline workers and one way to feel connected with our community.

9.  Cleaning Out Closets.  We’ve spent some of this time at home going through my son’s closet and bookcases. We have a full bag of gently used clothing, books, and games ready to donate to Baby2Baby as soon as they’re taking donations again. It’s nice to know that the items that my son enjoyed will soon make another child happy.

10.  Express Gratitude.  It won’t change anything to start listing all the reasons why we’re unhappy about this shutdown. Instead, it’s important to remember that we’re lucky. My husband is employed. My son is completing his sixth grade year. We’re together. We’re safe. We’re healthy.

And right now, we can’t ask for more than that.

Readers, what are you doing during the shutdown? What helps you get through the difficult days? Feel free to share in the comments section.

 

Invisible Forces Can Be Scary

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
We’re all waiting for the rainbow. Hang in there!

Lately I’ve been thinking about this invisible disability of mine that has changed my world (and by extension, my family’s world) and this coronavirus that has changed the entire world.

My autoimmune disease is invisible. Just by looking at me you couldn’t tell I have a blue handicap parking placard in my car’s glove compartment. 

When I was still visiting doctors and specialists trying to figure out what was going on with my legs (it took over a year to receive a diagnosis), my biggest concern was the possibility I may have passed on this mystery illness to my son. Ryan was two years old when I first became ill. He was described, by some, as a “late walker.” I was experiencing pain and inflammation in my legs. Was there a connection?

Thankfully, my autoimmune disease is mine; it is limited to me. There is no family history, and there is no fear that I have passed this on to my now twelve-year-old son. 

COVID-19 doesn’t work that way. It’s a scary, invisible, powerful force lurking just outside our home. On things we could touch. On air we could breathe. 

The most scary thing to me, in regards to this coronavirus, is that it is possible to be infected and yet be asymptomatic.

My autoimmune disease isn’t fatal. 

But COVID-19 can be.

Wear your masks. Keep your distance. Wash your hands. 

Please, continue to be safe and careful out there.

 

In Honor of Mothers and Teachers

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
When he was in preschool, my now twelve-year-old son made me this necklace for Mother’s Day.

Long before I became a mother, I celebrated Mother’s Day.

And I don’t just mean by honoring my amazing mom.

Each May, my students created Mother’s Day gifts for the special woman in their lives. For some students, that woman wasn’t their mother but their grandmother, aunt, older sister, or step-mom.

In honor of Mother’s Day, the special women who make a difference in a child’s life, and the teachers who help children honor these women with forever-treasured mementoes, I’d like to share a recently published personal essay. Click here to read “How Teachers Help Make Mother’s Day Special” published on motherwellmag.com

A Few Ideas to Get You Writing

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

I’m a writer. Yet during this coronavirus shut-down, I don’t find myself writing much about the immediate world around me.

Instead, I’m writing about my life with an invisible disability; writing that will eventually become my memoir-in-essays.

I’m writing in response to calls for submissions.

But the bottom line is, I’m writing.

And I’m also reading.

I recently finished Natalie Goldberg’s Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir.

Whether you’re a writer, or someone like my dad who, during this unprecedented time has begun keeping a journal for the first time in his life (he jots down a couple of sentences about each day), here are a few writing prompts from Ms. Goldberg’s book I’d like to share with you this week:

“What have you waited a long time for?”

“What do you no longer have?”

“What I can’t live without – “

“Where did you always want to go but didn’t?”

“Memoir is taking personal experience and turning it inside out. We surrender our most precious understanding, so others can feel what we felt and be enlarged. What is it you love and are willing to give to the page? It’s why we write memoir, not to immortalize but to surrender ourselves.”

 

Who Else Misses Libraries and Bookstores?

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
Ryan (age 3) and I reading at the library.

I was thinking about the things I miss because of this coronavirus pandemic and the shutdown of the world as we knew it. 

I miss being able to hug and kiss my parents.

I miss stepping into a grocery store without fear. (And I miss finding eggs and toilet paper on the shelves.)

I miss public libraries. 

I miss bookstores.

Because shopping for books online just isn’t the same.

My son received several gift cards for his recent birthday. (On a side note, Ryan is such a trooper. He celebrated his 12th birthday at home, with the largest chocolate cake we’ve ever had for the 3 of us, and promises of a major “do-over” when all this is done.)

He’s shopped for books on amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. 

But it’s not the same.

I miss browsing. Wandering the aisles, discovering a book I didn’t know I’d want to read. 

And you just can’t do that online. 

During the shutdown, our reading habits haven’t changed. I’m reading library books that I had checked out before they were closed down. I’m re-reading books from my personal library, some of which I don’t remember having read the first time. It is during this re-read, that I make a decision to either keep the book or donate it (when the libraries re-open).

And Ryan?

He’s reading everything. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it certainly feels that way. (Often we read together, during the day, and always at bedtime.) In the last month, we have read a fictional book about a zombie apocalypse (and he ordered a few more in the series). We have read inspiring biographies on people who make me proud to be a member of the human race – people like former President Barack Obama, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., former First Lady Michelle Obama, and Rosa Parks.

What about you readers?

What are you missing?

And, what are you reading? Feel free to share in the comments section.

 

Because of Ryan

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
Ryan, age 8. Strong enough to lift the truck that towed the space shuttle Endeavour. California Science Center, July 2016

I first became ill when Ryan was just two years old. He has grown up knowing me like “this.” “This” meaning pain in my legs, prescription bottles on the counter, doctors appointments written on the kitchen calendar.

“It breaks my heart that Ryan has learned a powerful lesson at such a young age. People get sick. All different kinds of sick. Through no fault of their own. And sometimes there’s nothing you can do to make the illness go away. The only thing you can do is learn to live with it as best you can. 

But there is a flip side to all this. 

There has to be.” 

Those lines were taken from one of my personal essays, “Because of Ryan” which was recently included in the fourth issue of Please See Me. 

Click here to read the full essay. 

 

Dressing Up During the Shut Down

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

How are you handling the world-wide shutdown?

Are you starting a new project? 

Cleaning? Organizing? Cooking? Painting? Reading?

I’m doing a bit of everything.

Teaching – while my son now completes the rest of his sixth grade year through online assignments.

Cooking. Every day. 

Reading. Nothing has changed there.

And there’s one other thing I’m doing. 

“I’m getting dressed each day. And for me, dressed doesn’t merely mean clothes. Getting dressed also includes my jewelry.”

The quote above was taken from my most recently published personal essay, “Why I’m Dressing Up While the World Is Shut Down.” You can read it on The Mighty by clicking here. 

And, readers, I’d love to know how you’re handling the shutdown. Feel free to leave a comment below.

 

A Shout-Out to Classroom Teachers

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
The library corner in my fourth grade classroom, September 2010. (The cozy rug hadn’t yet arrived.)

Our family’s world changed on Friday, the 13th. March 13th, when the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) announced that all schools would close for two weeks due to the spread of the COVID-19. 

My son was supposed to return to school on Monday, March 30th. 

Since then, LAUSD has amended its original plan and called for all schools to remain closed until May 1st. But even that date is tentative. Rumors are swirling that our children will not return to a classroom for the remainder of this school year.

In the meanwhile, teachers scramble to put together lesson plans and instructional programs that children can access online. Which means parents are now being called upon to serve in the roles previously held by the schoolteacher – taskmaster, cheerleader, supervisor, tutor, coach.

Now, many parents are taking to social media, claiming “that being with their child day-after-day helping them with assignments is giving them a taste of what it’s like to be a teacher.

“And to those parents, I want to say, ‘No it’s not.’ “

Those words begin a personal essay I wrote  and that was published last week at Motherwell Magazine. You can click here to read the essay in its entirety.

 

 

What Do You See When You Look in the Mirror?

Posted on by Wendy Kennar
The many family photos on our refrigerator. There is a reference to these photos in my essay.

How would you complete this prompt:  “When I look in the mirror, I see…”?

My latest publication is a personal essay answering that question. As I wrote in my short biography for Ailment – Chronicles of Narrative Illness, “My personal essay describes all the different “Wendy’s” I see when I look in the mirror. Living with an invisible disability, an autoimmune disease called Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease, has changed the way I look at myself and changed the way I see myself.” 

Click here to be re-directed to Ailment – Chronicles of Narrative Illness to read the essay as well as other pieces exploring lives with chronic mental and physical illness.