31. how are you

One benefit of starting this project is I no longer feel pressured to give a full and complete answer to the question “how are you?”

It seems like such a simple question on the surface, but it almost always stumps me. 

Part of me wants to give a full and complete answer, which is of course only available after a momentary pause and a heartfelt check in with my body, mind, environment, relationships. But if I do that - take the time to check in with myself and respond based on the complexity of my inner experience - it’s usually more than people are expecting, sometimes makes others uncomfortable, but mostly just draws me into a depth of vulnerability that isn’t appropriate for the situation or level of intimacy with the person asking. 

The other part of me, the conditioned, well-socialized, domesticated part knows that the ‘right’ answer to the question, “how are you?” is “good, thanks for asking” or “I’m well, how are you?” or “yeah, same as usual, everything’s okay” - but all of those feel like niceties that are incomplete at best and straight up lies at worst. 

I am well. 

And then also, life.

Today was... another day (surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming.) Was it a good day? Eh. It was okay, not remarkable in any particular way. I didn’t workout, because I (continue to) feel time pressure around work obligations that I created for myself. I intended to work out, but those slippery little minutes just keep ticking on by and lately it seems the time blindness I struggle with has been extra possum-ish, like I’m squinting but see just can’t get an accurate read on how long things will take (and all the ways I’ll be distracted or derailed). 

Here’s a cool thing (serious, not sarcastic). Letting go of social media is actually helping me see more where my time blindness is most active, because I’m not also losing time scrolling or feeling like it’s urgent to respond to a DM or comment. 

Now I just get to see all the other places where I flutter off into a totally unrelated task to what I am meant to be working on. Like this narrative, for example. 

I struggled to wake up today. I’m not sick, but my body felt like it weighed a million pounds, and I decided maybe I was sick, because I was so very tired. So, thanks to my loving partner getting the kids breakfasted and off to school, I laid in bed until the guys came to work on the house at 9:07am.

Then I got up, debated internally about whether I was sick, just tired, or sick and tired, and decided I didn’t want to be sick because that would just set me back further in my obligations, so I went with just tired (and also a bit sick and tired of the obligations themselves, but as I said previously… life). 

I got up, took my adhd meds and probiotic, walked Barney, drank coffee, forgot to eat, went to work, remembered I forgot to eat, made food, ate it at my desk, did some work, got distracted by a fixation on a dress I wanted to buy a year ago for a photo shoot, felt an urgent need to see if I could find the dress, lost 30 minutes on googling dresses, realized I was off track, went back to work, worked for 2 hours, stopped to eat leftover spaghetti, went back to work, talked to a potential client, met with a current client, made a list of everything I didn’t get done at work so I can try to get it done tomorrow, came upstairs to find hungry kids and husband, realized something I forgot to do at work, went back downstairs to do it, got halfway through the task -

“Oh GOD! NO! Oh NO, Tanner DUDE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? Oh man, this is not good. Boys, go outside, get outside-” 

There was a note of panic in Brent’s voice, which is rare. Indeed, it sounded like it was not good. I took a deep breath, wondering what the ‘it’ was this time.

I walked up the stairs from my office, opened the door to the living room and found… 

Ash. Lots and lots of wood ash, swirling in the air, filling the entire living room, kitchen our bedroom. 

Ah. Shit.

“Come on boys,” I called, “come down into my office - go down the outside stairs, come on, it’s okay, it’s just not good to breathe this, let’s go down where it’s warm.” I intentionally kept a jovial, cheery, no-problems-here attitude (well-practiced), because we’re not gonna let a little rogue vacuum bag and an explosion of ash all over our currently half-torn apart house derail the day. Nope nope nope. Just keep going.

So I put on a mask and went upstairs and kicked right into gear with Brent, wiping all the surfaces and taking all the linens to the laundry and mopping all the floors and cleaning the windows and wiping ash off of literally every surface, floor, window, shelf, and counter. Took about an hour, and ash was still settling, and our eyes and throats were burning a little, and Brent’s nose started bleeding, but hey -

It could have been worse.

At least it wasn’t a house fire.

At least it was cold ash.

At least the couch is ratty and stained anyway.

At least everyone is safe.

It’s just a little ash explosion. It’s just life. Don’t let it derail you, just keep going.

Just. Keep. Going. 

Like I was saying, at least with this daily writing I can just answer the whole “how are you” question with the long, rambling, over-detailed, dramatic and relentlessly honest answer that wants to emerge from my being.

That way, when the Amazon delivery guy says “Tudo bem?” I don’t have to try to explain this all in Portuguese, and I can just reply, “sim, tudo” and continue on with my (really good, super well) day. 

So tell me, how are you?