the medicine of bittersweet anniversaries
Early November has some momentous anniversaries for me.
First – Still Moving is 2 years old! This time has flown. I'm always in awe of the kind reviews and knowing that this book has supported people, taught people, more deeply connected people to themselves and others.
(Also, publishing a book in autumn is a great excuse to take a photo of said book with a pumpkin.)
The other anniversary is referenced in the first sentence of Still Moving:
"As of writing this, it's been nearly 4 years to the day that a man dismissed my symptoms as resistance to meditation."
Because early November 2019 is when I contracted Covid-19.
So, early November always has intense emotions and sensations and memories and thoughts and all the things.
I published my book at the anniversary of getting sick for a few reasons.
First, it gave me a deadline, so I wouldn't lose my nerve about publishing.
(I use deadlines a LOT for this reason.)
More importantly, though, I wanted to put something positive onto a terrible moment.
Mind you, I didn't know that layering something good onto a bad time would actually make me feel any better. Honestly, I thought it might diminish the accomplishment of publishing a book because it was at the time of something awful.
But I was willing to experiment.
And WOW, I'm so glad I did.
Not because my book has compensated or negated the all the terrible, no good, very bad experiences of Long Covid. It hasn't, nor did I expect it to.
(Because I'm definitely NOT here to proclaim that it's the medicine that cures all heartbreak and grief, with the added invitation to join my masterclass.)
But that layer of the book onto the rough anniversary has tempered the terrible, no good, very bad feelings at that point in the calendar.
For which I'm grateful. Because the juxtaposition of these 2 experiences brings them into a relationship, with all the complexities that come with any relationship.
Because writing a book is legacy building. It's something I've given to the world, left with the world, that is both less and more than me. This experience has blown my mind and exploded my heart again and again, as I hear from readers.
And for me, celebrating that legacy experience at the same time as one of the worst experiences of my life — also blows my mind and explodes my heart.
So if you ever have the opportunity and are willing to try, it's something I recommend. Not because it erases pain or makes everything perfect. In some ways, the illness anniversary has become more painful with time. But I'm here to feel the pain and pleasure, grief and joy.
Y'know, like how life is.
In celebration,
S.
she/they
Still Moving ~ memoir of my first 3 years of Long Covid
sync. fire. ~ concept album about synchronous fireflies