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I’m a girl who buys in multiples. As I’m writing this, I’m wearing a pair of Muji woven slip ons. I have three pairs of them: two in light blue and one beige. And I’m not gonna lie to you, going online to link the item for this blog entry I saw that they’re sold out and my heart beat a little faster with Oh No, These are my favorite around-the-house wearables. What will I do? People, I have THREE pairs of these already. They last more than a year (based on that fourth pair I bought June 2019 and just threw out). Why am I already thinking about my feet three years in the future? This brings me to a kind of strange mindset. A hoarding mentality, if you will. For me, this is not a COVID-19 development—and I wasn’t one of the infamous March 2020 mass, multiple toilet paper grabbers. Rather, I’ve always been someone who if I see a style of shirt, trousers, etc. (maybe everything except sneakers–not sure why I leave those out) that I love, I’ll often end up with one of every color. This trait has become more developed in the last decade, maybe a product of me knowing as I get older what I like and what looks good on me. I’m certainly prone to strange buys at the thrift store that are often aspirational. Apparently I’ve never met a faux-fur, fuzzy pullover or hoodie (sometimes jumper or skirt) that I didn’t think I could make my own. In our NYC apartment this was a problem given shelf space (one furry item takes up the equivalent of two to three cotton items). In Cali, the problem is the weather. There are probably three-and-a-half days out of the year when a full-on fake-fur coat is ever appropriate. Clearly this is all about inanimate objects given in no universe do I desire multiples of Dennis. He’s that one-of-a-kind for whom duplicates would do me no good.

So, back to that multiple-buying situation. Is it because I’ve found something that works and I don’t think I’ll ever change? Is it security in knowing I’ll have a collection of the things I like around me? If I dive a little deeper, I find that the need for control pops up. The sense that if I know I’ve got some things I like, and if I have a gazillion of them, then I’ll never run out, which means I might feel more solid in my place on earth. This is all clearly bullshit, by the way, since there’s really no way of avoiding change and life-thrown curveballs both the good, the bad, and the in-between. But searching for a foothold that leads me to the sensation that I’ve Got This is ongoing. Especially during this time when nothing, nothing, and more nothing feels controllable. I get the toilet paper shelf raids. I understand why the UK put a moratorium on how many bottles of beer its citizens could buy at the beginning of their lockdown (altho now looking for a link to that, I find none, so maybe that was a bit of panic journalism). Anyhoo, to have control over something, anything is an ongoing goal and one that is futile. When it comes to say COVID health, politics, racial and social justice, the environment there are most definitely things to do. The fact that those things sometimes feel like baby steps is where the reckoning comes in.

Patience sometimes feels like an excruciating ask. The long game can feel like a fool’s journey. Incremental change doesn’t look or feel dramatic enough. But in the end, unless you’re Lebron James, Greta, or Beyoncé—or someone else with a long reach into the social media and public sphere—this is what we have to work with. Everyone pulling it together and going forward. Seeing the places where things can move one or two steps forward, even as they might slip one back again. Not quite Sisyphus but maybe a little more electric slide. Moving forward, sideways, in a group, individually. Doing what can be done to keep an eye on the prize. No head in sand. No pretending it’s not a thing what’s going on around us in the world. Sure, you’re tired, I’m tired, let’s just pretend it’s [fill in blank of your favorite year here, being honest to recognize that that year had issues too, because of course it did]. But, no, if you draw breath and consider yourself alive, then you’re in it. It’s 2020. And if you look around and feel your heart beating at injustice, any injustice, even if it’s a damn kitten in a tree crying for help, then boom, you’ve got the makings of empathy. And why not apply that in even a small way. Again, not gonna lie, there are moments of overwhelm where I’m like What’s the point? I don’t have kids. The future’s just gonna be crazy for them. What good can I be? That lasts for a minute until I sort out its origin. I’m just bloody not sure sometimes what to do and how to do it and when to do it and on and on.

David Attenborough has a new documentary, A Life on Our Planet  on Netflix. I’ve yet to dial it up, but know I need to. I wonder what I’m waiting for. I realize it’s the voice inside me asking if I’m in the mood to face my own responsibilities regarding what I can do (what we all can do) in the face of what the planet needs. Sir Attenborough is 94 years on this planet. He’s seen a few things. He’s telling us what he knows and doing so in a beautiful way, from what I hear. So, really, it’s not about me being in the damn mood. It’s about stepping up and being open to receiving more information about what is needed, no matter if it’s big or small. A friend wrote me last week saying she’s making sure that she’s engaged every day, not just busy, but engaged. And I see her Insta feed and smile at her bike riding all over the NYC, slipping safely into galleries and really living inside her curiosity and commitment to being present and engaged. I also know she is not perpetually happy or satisfied because who the hell is, and really, who wants that? There has to be gravity, sadness even, in order to have joy. And it needs expressing and looking after. I’m inspired by her. And I know it’s imperative to keep taking the steps. Here in the US, just a guess, but the next few months are going to be even more gnarly than they’ve been.

So given the fact that I can’t order the earth up in multiples, that there’s really just one chance in November to vote (flip the effin’ senate and bring in a President who can exhibit leadership), and that being kind to my fellow citizens requires masks (oh, I do have multiples of those by-the-by), then I’m committing to taking steps deliberately and understanding that each moment stands alone. I may do it in a t-shirt of which I have one in every color and those damn house slippers I love, but I can at least aim whatever modicum of control I have in a direction where I feel I’m a part of something larger. Please join me. Thank you.