On Spontaneity

Unfun confession: I am not spontaneous.

I never was—as a kid, the next swim practice was always on my mind. Lists were necessary for everything: swim-meets, vacations, reading, goals, my future house. I was creating vision boards before they were trendy. Every Sunday, I’d cut out my favorite furniture from weekly newspaper circulars for my future house. Could it have been the naming? Or was it having something to look at in the uncertain fog of childhood? Endometriosis has been part of my vocabulary, my identity, for over a year. I have a name for the cloud, but what can I do with it?

I’m still a list-maker and planner. It’s also all about tracking workouts, moods (I am always a mood), self-care, physical therapy, and sleep. Why? I have still been experiencing significant chronic pain and fatigue after excision surgery. Tracking symptoms is a way to see patterns and identify triggers. The scientific collection of statistics is a ritualistic calming. 

As I write this, I still think I should be more spontaneous. Instead, I plan my life around pain. My period is usually regular, so I plan everything—rest, social time, dates, workouts, events—around how I may be feeling. Otherwise, what if I’m caught in public without an arsenal of tampons? What if I’m stuck in a crowded event, in pain and unable to get to a seat? What if I have to cancel on someone because I didn’t anticipate how ghostly my body would feel? What if I’m so overwhelmed by symptoms I’m being a neglectful partner? Some days, I think a cane for high pain days would be a good investment. Yesterday, I barely made it up a flight of stairs before ceding to the elevator the rest of the day. This may be surprising when you look through my Instagram feed. That’s curation. I prefer to celebrate what feeds my soul online, especially when I need something positive to get through the hard days. I’m the master of the lean with the hip-cock. 

I have been turning the phrase by Rio Cortez in my head for what feels like years: “I have learned to define a field as a space between mountains.” Time and space have a different meaning when you’re racing your limits. Energy is collected in an attempt to maintain inertia. That’s not what her incredible chapbook is about, but the title has taken on a meditative role in my life. I will repeat from my Goodreads review: “if we can communicate how history has made us, there may be space to move forward.”

Tracking, naming, and identifying will probably always be part of the process. I’m an amateur adventurer in all of this. At least until there is some sort of cure for endometriosis.

Some books I was thinking about while writing this:

  • Laurel, Tyler Mendelsohn
  • I have learned to define a field as a space between mountains, Rio Cortez

Stay sweaty and glittery.

Welcome

Welcome to #poetsthatsweat.

On this blog, I’m bringing together my two loves: language and movement. I started using the hashtag, #poetsthatsweat, facetiously a few years ago to get over my embarrassment of being a jock and artist. I’m no longer concerned about being embarrassed.

I’ve also spent a long time pretending to be fine. Since officially diagnosed with stage IV endometriosis in April 2018 (after over a decade of pain, more in a later post), I’ve been looking for ways to express joy. Casual clothes, hard work, and coffee fuel me, but I’ve had to be more strategic if I’m being honest about the chronic fatigue that comes with endometriosis. I’m always thinking about how I will feel in the coming days, trying to ration my energy while still participating in things I love.

On this blog you’ll find my thoughts on running, circus arts (find a solo of me losing myself in a Kesha song here), writing, and reading in the context of health. All things that lead to joy in some way. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, right?

Most recent reading pleasure: I finished Station Eleven yesterday morning. What an intricate, masterfully written book. Emily St. John Mandel weaves multiple lives together in a society nearly decimated by the Georgia Flu. As you read, you find out how Station Eleven has touched each character. The world is so big, yet so small in the energies of lives that bind us. This line stuck with me:

“If nothing else, it’s pleasant to consider the possibility.”

I want possibilities to look better for future generations of women, womyn. Treatment in the healthcare system is a piece of equal opportunity. Endometriosis hasn’t been studied on a broad scale, only recently receiving major funding.  Medicine’s history is full of patriarchal treatment. I can look back at the rage in my poetry and say “I see why you feel that way.” I am not the first to say this either. Read Dora Malech’s The Kenyon Review blog post CLIFTON, PAIN, AND POETRY. There is finally federal funding to research endometriosis, which will hopefully mean something.

For now, here are some quick resources that have helped me:

Thanks for reading. Stay sweaty and glittery.