It Hurts to Think - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

It's been five months since I last posted, which is a record for this muse. Don't assume it was because I had nothing to write about, because nothing could be farther from the truth. The pandemic provided altogether too much fodder for my brain, and I was doing my best to not be driven crazy by too many big, serious thoughts.

Covid 19 came along just as I was emerging from a prolonged funk. I felt a little aimless again, without exchange students to "mother." Still adapting to my husband's role as mayor of our community, I often felt more than a little thin skinned. It's difficult to "share" a spouse with an entire municipality!

Winters always hit me hard, and this one was a doozy. There was a lot of drama playing out under my roof - a blog post for another time. Covid hasn't been easy for any of us, and it's been especially hard for those of us who tried to be diligent in obeying the guidelines. I'm probably not the only person who felt that they had too much time to think, and not nearly enough to do to distract me from uncomfortable thoughts. Too often I went to bed at night with a brain that felt like it was about to burn a hole through my skull. My thoughts exhausted me.

It hurt to think.

I used to love using long walks by myself as uninterrupted thinking time. I worked through difficult conversations that I knew I had to have, I planned blog posts, wrote poems in my head, and memorized speeches as I walked at a brisk pace. For several months I couldn't walk by myself. I had no speeches to learn, and didn't want to think about the craziness of a world where so many rejected scientific evidence in favour of YouTube conspiracy quackery. I didn't want to think about missing the people I couldn't see, missing things I couldn't do, or feeling incredible anger with those whose continual flouting of restrictions prolonged lockdowns. I didn't want to think about police brutality, about bigotry, or about Trump worshipers who hailed him as some kind of new Messiah as he preached his unending sermons in praise of misogyny, capitalism, greed and ignorance.

I became very disenchanted with large sectors of my fellow beings. That's ironic, because through every difficult period of my life, prior to this pandemic, I have always been buoyed by a belief that humans are mostly good, kind, and pragmatic. Now I'm not as certain of that.

My dabblings kept my thoughts from imploding and melting me down to a puddle of goo. It was calming to string beads, link chains, put stitches in Aida cloth, try new recipes...it all made me feel useful and productive. The world around me made no sense, but I could hold on to my marbles by making things, and thus make my locked down life bearable.

It Hurt to Think - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

I couldn't write
because it hurt to think.
I lost the fight
to put my thoughts in ink.
I can't explain
how much just thinking hurt;
how fierce the pain
my own thoughts could exert.
To find relief
I beaded, stitched and baked,
linked chains in grief
until my fingers ached;
rolled cookies out,
x'd patterned onto cloth,
and gorged on doubt
while feeling like a sloth.
Fanatical -
my fear to look within -
sabbatical
from my internal din.
I could be calm
when quieting the mind,
creation's balm
helped me contentment find.
I can at last
put writing on a page -
now time has passed,
and with thoughts I'll engage.

Time doesn't heal as quickly as it grants perspective. I'm not as okay as I used to be, but I'm coping. As some aspects of life return to normal, other details emerge that make me ponder whether our old "normal" was mostly an illusion. Capitalism, running rampant and unchecked, is the cause of most of the ills of the world. I mind paying taxes, for services that I require, a lot less than I'm bothered by skyrocketing housing costs, an underpaid work force, a lack of manufacturing in our country (that has allowed our neighbours to the south to vaccinate at a much more rapid pace than us!), and a lack of mental health services that we are REALLY going to notice a few months from now!

A lot of people are unhappy. They've realized that they hate their jobs without the water cooler chats that made them tolerable. Some are finally having to acknowledge that they have troubled relationships, difficult children, messed up priorities, and a serious lack of contentment in their lives.

A lot of people are confused about how they should treat others, and about what constitutes "truth", "freedom", and the North American "way". The arrogance of those who think they know better has always been with us. The emerging news stories about bodies being located on the grounds of former residential schools are an uncomfortable confirmation of past wrongs that many of us have long suspected. We wish we were more surprised....

Haunting - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, June 2021

Their voices call out from the ground,
and we are haunted by the sound -
a sad and longing, keening song
from children who did nothing wrong.

Don't block those cries with hands on ears,
like others did for countless years;
this haunting we cannot forget -
unless we have learned nothing yet.

Some say we should cancel Canada Day celebrations this year to demonstrate our sorrow. It's nice to think that denying your community a few fireworks will somehow atone, but grand gestures mean nothing when they don't initiate change.

I'm celebrating a Canada that has come a long way - a country that no longer kicks over the traces of its ugly past, a country that I believe will use these gruesome discoveries to fuel positive change. We have textbooks that need to be rewritten to portray the past more accurately. We have a nation to re-educate. I'm going to spend part of my Canada Day reading documents about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. I want to learn how I can change my behaviors and take action to make my country a more equitable place.

I'm going to end this post with an attempt I made to write an additional verse to our National anthem. Some might disagree with me but I think, as my husband once said, "Diversity is our strength, not our weakness." I'm still learning, after years of negative conditioning, and stubborn, wrong headed thinking, that nobody has to look like me, believe what I believe, love the same way I do, or be of the same political stripe as me to deserve kindness and compassion.

Another Verse - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

O Canada! We must atone for past,
look to the future, making changes vast.
We must begin to reconcile
all that has gone before -
the value of diversity
no longer we'll ignore.
May we begin, thus to create,
true equity in land devoid of hate.

Take your own hurting brain, and apply it to righting a few of the ills of the world. Let your localized actions fuel global change.

Happy Canada Day from the Muse!

Dabble On - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

 Dabble On...

I'm dabbling in a lot of things;
no longer do I care
if I'm seen as rank amateur
or show a talent rare.
I used to worry all the time
that I might not excel.
I'd tell myself - don't even try -
and interest I'd quell.
Now I don't really care at all
if I do well, or not.
If I am curious, I will try;
I'll give it what I've got.
I'll stitch, I'll bake, and cook a bit,
I'll play with jewelry -
and show nary a care at all
if it's Tom foolery!
I'm occupying mind and hands
in time of endless stress -
I'll dabble whether I excel
or only make a mess.
I'm free to dabble on and play,
and post pics on Facebook -
it's not to brag or show my skill,
but just to say - Hey - look!
I didn't criticize myself,
I didn't second guess.
I sat and figured this thing out -
and did it - more or less!

- Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 29, 2021


Say what you will about 2020 - it was a difficult year for most of us, and while it fell short of being my "year of perfect vision", it certainly made a few things about myself come into focus.

In previous posts I've mentioned my narrow comfort zone, my ability to become frustrated easily, and my introversion. I've never been the kind of person to share "a work in progress" - when I write a poem or blog post, it appears online as a finished project. While that's still the case where my writing is concerned, I've learned over the past six or seven months that it's okay to give the Facebook world a glimpse of some things I'm working on.

I thank the pandemic for making me desperate enough to start dabbling in more creative endeavours. When every day starts to look the same, you look for ways to shake things up a bit, and for me that meant trying some new things. Thus I've learned the value of dabbling.

It started with food. When you are staying in all the time, food becomes important - probably much more important than it should be. In May, I dug out our air fryer and started using it for more than cooking frozen fries. In June we bought an Instant Pot, and because of my wariness around technology and new kitchen gadgets, my husband decided he'd help me prepare our first meal in the thing. He discovered he liked helping me cook Instant Pot meals, or "science experiments you can eat", and I discovered that I was more inspired to create in the kitchen when I wasn't stuck in there alone! Proud of our efforts, we both started sharing the occasional "this was supper" post, and hungry friends started requesting recipes. Apparently our meals looked good enough to eat!

As my garden began to bloom I got outside and snapped pictures. I'm not a fantastic gardener, but I'm interested in photography, and flowers are more cooperative photo subjects than people or animals. (In the spring of 2019, my husband gave me an iPad, and after years of very seldom taking pictures I discovered how easy it is to take - and share - pictures with it.) My gardening pictures have always been more about trying to develop photography skills than bragging about my garden. I dabble in gardening and in photography.

Throughout the summer I often felt bored and restless, but I discovered that my world looked a bit more inviting through a camera lens. My husband had purchased some photo sessions with a local photographer as a gift for me, and my son had purchased a decent camera from a friend. I utilized both and had some carefully distanced photography lessons. By then "Covid Brain" had kicked in and my powers of concentration were a bit compromised, but those lessons broke up my week and gave me something new to think about. I'm not convinced I was much of a student, but by trying something different I was reinforcing the idea in my head that I could dabble - just trying new things was an accomplishment in and of itself - but having learned a bit more about taking photos I could continue to learn more at my own pace.

As the pandemic continued I found that I needed tangible evidence that my days weren't wasted. If I posted some nice pictures, I had proof that I'd seen something that day, but that wasn't quite enough. As days wore on I needed proof that I was actually doing things. While cleaning out a few drawers in a little used room, I found some Aida cloth and embroidery floss. I hadn't cross stitched in more than a decade, but decided that I should do a small project to see if I still enjoyed it. The fabric I had on hand had a tight weave - my stitches had to be small, and it quickly became obvious that my eyes had deteriorated a bit. I made a lot of mistakes in that first project, but posted pictures anyway. I was proud that I'd simply followed through and finished, even when my eyes felt strained and I goofed up. The completed piece is now framed and hangs on the wall in my office, proof that I accomplished something - and that I can persevere and be proud of consistent effort, even when it yields imperfect results. Finishing that one small project motivated me to complete a small project for each of the people on my Christmas list - more proof that my days weren't wasted! I was getting things done, by golly - and I was happy to broadcast the fact!

Furthermore, when I posted pictures of my first stitching project online a new friend sent me a private message asking if I'd be interested in some outdoor, socially distanced "stitch and bitch" visits with her. We had some great chats and got to know each other a lot better. All because I posted a picture! It was more proof that good things can happen when we risk sharing our efforts online.

I think the proof of my personal growth lies in a lot of imperfect photographs of less than perfect meals and slightly flawed projects that I've posted this past year. I'm no longer worried about people looking at my efforts and saying, "I can do that better." Without a doubt many can, and some might think that to themselves. I'm no longer bothered because I don't care what they think, and I have enough faith in the people I friend on Facebook to be fairly confident none of them will be overtly critical or unkind. My projects are about me - not them - and how I'm learning the importance of playing with new ideas and dabbling in new projects.

I know I'm just a dabbler. I know a lot of other people can stitch rings around me and cook better meals, take better pictures, make nicer jewelry... I'll even concede that a few people on my Facebook feed can bake as well as I do. (Sorry if that sounds boastful; I'm not going to bother with any pretense of false modesty on this one point - I know I'm a good baker.) 

I don't need to be particularly good at everything I try, and I don't need to be afraid to share imperfect attempts with my friends. You don't need to be afraid to share either.

These are frustrating, difficult times. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'm feeling a lot of stress. I've been denied a lot of the simple pleasures I took for granted - a weekend away, a visit with friends, a meal at my favourite restaurant. For the last nine months, I've been living a very quiet, isolated life. For the last two months, I've been the primary caregiver for a mother who grows older, frailer, and more high maintenance. All of these circumstances and sacrifices take their toll, and I'm not afraid to admit that.

My little projects keep my mind occupied, at least temporarily, and they keep my hands busy. They provide proof of my own productivity, and will serve as  reminder to me that I didn't spend the entire pandemic wringing my hands.

When I share my efforts I'm reaching out to others. I'm trying to start a conversation, to encourage my friends to share their own efforts, no matter how big or small, and no matter how imperfect.

Most importantly, I'm giving myself permission to be a dabbler. I can try out new recipes, new hobbies, and new projects. I can dabble until I gain proficiency, or I can dabble until I'm tired of one hobby and move on to another. I can dabble for the sake of dabbling - I can dip a toe into a new pond, or dive in. Nobody gets to dictate how I dabble, or tell me when to stop.

It's gratifying to play with ideas and give creativity new outlets, and it's freeing to no longer be afraid to share my creative attempts. Having discovered the joy of dabbling, I'm not going to quit, and I urge you to get creative too.

Dabble on, friends...dabble on.

So It's a New Year - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

A new year has begun, and we want to believe that 2021 will usher in a happier era. Hope is a good thing, and I want that as bad as the rest of you - but we have to be realistic. Covid-19 isn't gone yet, and won't be until vaccines have broad use. People are still getting sick and dying. Just ten minutes ago, one of my Brazilian boys told me about a family connection who died of Covid-19 this morning.

"He was such a nice man, and I'm heartbroken", he told me. "We can't even have a funeral."

Covid is a very cruel virus. It doesn't care how nice you are, how rich you are, or even how careful you try to be, and that's why all of us need to continue being responsible. How we conduct ourselves can so easily determine the fate of those around us.

As a society, we haven't done very well so far. Most couldn't, or wouldn't, make the required sacrifices over the holiday season, and cases will continue to surge in the weeks to come.

Someone close to me told me that we could all "interpret the (Provincial) guidelines by our own light" - and then caught Covid. Luckily, she did not make the visit to her aging mother that she considered making! The guidelines have been clear from the beginning:

1) Stay within your household.

I grow increasingly frustrated with the number of people who don't understand what a household is. Sadly, your household includes only the people who live under your roof full time - not your grown children and grandchildren who live in separate houses! 

I'm astonished by the number of people who defied that rule over Christmas. Don't try to tell me that your four adult kids, their spouses and your grandkids are all part of your "household"! If you felt that you absolutely had to spend Christmas with all of your kids, I hope you took every single possible precaution to stay safe. I'll be honest - my mom joined our household for Christmas. She's 89, and doesn't have many Christmases left. She lives in assisted living, which means she technically doesn't live alone. That's the frustrating part - had my mom lived alone, across the street from me, where we could visit daily that would've been no issue. (A single person living alone can join with another household to have their social needs met.) However, because my mom lives in assisted living, where she gets communal meals, but spends 95% of her time alone, she is supposedly not lonely! Which is ridiculous, because she's never been so lonely in her life. So, I "sprung her" for the duration of the lockdown. I brought her from a red zone to an orange zone, where she will be happier and safer. For more than two weeks before she came here she had no visitors except me. She wore masks and distanced from the other residents. Did your family visitors take the precautions?

One of my friends told me how she visited one of her kids on Christmas Eve and the other on Christmas Day "because they weren't in the same bubble". What???? First off, the concept of "social bubbles" was so entirely (and perhaps deliberately?) misunderstood that they have been forbidden for months. The idea was simple - up to ten people total could form an exclusive pact that they would visit closely (no masks, no distancing) with each other - and ONLY each other. Instead, people chose to interpret that as "it's okay to hang out with no precautions as long as there are ten people or fewer gathering." The next day, you could get together with a different group of ten - and so on, and so on...and naturally the numbers soared!

Why more people couldn't understand the problem with this is a mystery to me. My household never joined any bubble, simply because we didn't feel we could trust anybody else to make the same sacrifices we were trying to make. One person looked at me incredulously when I told her that no, if my younger son lived nearby, we would not visit with him without distancing. He has the mind of a scientist and is every bit as careful about Covid as my husband and I are. He would've joined our household permanently or visited from a distance - period.

Until more learn to sacrifice the hugs they want now for an unlimited supply later, the social isolation will have to continue.

2) Stay home!

That should be an easy one too, but when the Finance Minister thinks he should be able to travel to St. Bart's for the holidays, everyone thinks travel is fine and dandy. 

In my opinion, international travel for pleasure should've been immediately forbidden as of March 2020. The countries that have been insistent on no tourists, like New Zealand, have low numbers because they seized control quickly. Stay home! It works!

Yes, you can walk in the neighbourhood. Yes, you can shop for essentials. Yes, you can go for a drive. Stay home means don't visit friends, don't spend time doing recreational shopping, don't congregate in groups outside unless you distance and mask.

It has been disheartening to learn that the average dog understands "stay" better than most humans.

3) Maintain two metres of distance from those not in your household, and wear a mask when that is difficult.

For those unfamiliar with the metric system, that's about six and a half feet. If your husband is six feet tall, try to imagine if him lying on the ground between you and the person you are talking to, with six inches to spare. In my experience, most people seem to think four or five feet looks like two metres. Always err on the side of caution. Don't assume you can stand two feet away from someone and chat for hours because you are both masked. Maintaining distance is the single most important precaution you can take to halt the spread. The mask is meant to be an added precaution when you can't. So mask up before you head out to shop, and if you want to walk in a crowded neighbourhood where a whole lot of other people might have the same idea, put it on there too.

4) Wash/sanitize your hands.

We can sing the Happy Birthday song twice through at home, and squirt on lots of sanitizer in stores, but neither gives us license to touch everything in our path, or to touch those around us. In the grocery store, I try my best not to touch things I don't buy. In my home, I try not to touch surfaces too often, and to clean them with disinfectant more often than usual. We all need to try to touch our masks less often - I can only hope that we don't end up wearing them so long that proper masking hygiene becomes second nature to us. Whether that happens depends on how well we obey the first three rules I listed above.

I don't do everything perfectly where the pandemic is concerned, but I'm trying. Can we all try a little bit harder, please?

For the poetry portion of this post I'm re-vamping an existing song....

So It's A New Year

So it's a new year
what will we do now?
Protect those around us?
We ought to know how!
and so Happy New Year
to weak and to strong -
mask up and stay safe now,
vaccines won't be long!

A very happy new year
to all of my friends.
Let's hope it's a good one,
and pandemic ends!

If we are united
in staying at home
the virus will slow down
with no place to roam.
We're none of us special -
exempt from the rules -
and those who pay no heed,
are nothing but fools.

The vaccines are coming.
Til then wear a mask,
and stay with your household
it's not much to ask!

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 1, 2021

Last year was supposed to be the year of  "2020 Vision" - perfect clarity! In hindsight, I can clearly see how a lot of us made mistakes early on in the pandemic. As time goes on, and Covid continues to gain ground, we absolutely must unite in making the sacrifices necessary to slow the spread of Covid before vaccinations are amped up! Our hospitals are struggling, our elderly are lonely, and far too many of us are at risk!

Do you want to have a better 2021? Stay safe, stay home, and comply with the lockdown!

Vaccines are coming, but not in time to save all of us. We have to do our part.