Quirky Nerd, or “When In Doubt, C4.”

Angler Mountain Trail, Silverthorne, CO, October 2022

Okay so let’s see if I can make a coherent post out of random nerdy bits!

On the elliptical tonight, listening to Book 12 of Anna Durand’s Hot Scots series, I was so excited to learn about the different types of twilight! Baahahahaaaa, yes, that is what makes open door romance audiobooks so exciting, I’m sure every reader lives for the science dropped here! I can’t remember if that was before or after the hero talked about strapping C4 to his chest during a treasure hunting adventure. I felt gratified and proud that I knew what C4 is, from watching season upon season of Mythbusters. You just never know when something you pick up in one place will come in handy somewhere else. Bet you ten dollars I’ll be telling someone about nautical twilight by this time next week!

***

Daughter and I have always stopped to observe dead animals we find on the ground. Our morbid fascination is encouraged by our friend, a biology teacher at her school. An upper classman donated the family dog after it had been euthanized. Daughter spent free time last year dissecting it with friends. Currently it’s a bucket of bones, waiting to be reassembled, Sue-style. So when I found naturally picked-clean deer leg bones (likely a mountain lion kill) on a hike in Colorado last month, I had to bring it back for our friend. I covered it in plastic wrap in my carry on, getting through security without issue. He appreciated it very much, and it made me happy to make him happy in this quirky, nerdy way that we both are.

On Halloween, Daughter came across a freshly expired bird, who likely died from traumatic brain injury by colliding with a window. We found out from Daughter’s friends, who participated in the ornithology events at Science Olympiad (her ‘bird nerd’ friends), that it was a European starling. Its remains now also reside at school. I wonder if they will find skull fractures upon necropsy?

***

Husband and I may really be ubernerds who belong together (so Daughter comes by it honestly). We have been known to binge watch Modern Marvels; my favorite episodes are about hand tools (learn how the monkey wrench got its name!), power tools, and fast food tech. We tortured our friend once in med school. She came over for dinner and afterward we two sat deeply enthralled by an engineering show on bridge building; she could not figure out how to leave politely. Weeks later, when we watched a round table discussion between local TV meterologists on the PBS station, we made sure we were alone.

*sigh*

It’s just how we are. Everything is so interesting, it catches our attention and we have to see, feel, explore. You just never know what there is to know unless you slow down and look. And the more we learn, the more we see how everything is connected. The butterfly effect is real, it is fascinating, and I respect it. I stand in awe of it, and it makes me happy.

Girl Balls

Cojones.

Why use we such a ubuiquitous male genital expression for strength and courage?

And no female ones?

Consider the female gonad. When you rip open a new wound on yourself every month for decades on end, ready and waiting each time to overtake an entire body, orchestrating the coordinated and prolonged creation and delivery of an entirely new and unique sentient being, which the body then must sustain for months longer with only its own nutritional synthetic power, how is it that you are still not crowned the queen of all organs of strength, capacity, and resilience?

“Balls out”, we say, when we hold up boldness and assertiveness–but only when referring to men. Do we only see it when men are heroic and daring? What about when women take dauntless risks, so often on behalf of others? How do we express our admiration for this? BOOBS OUT, I say, when I want to validate a woman’s right to assert her power, agency, and independence, out loud and in front. But it doesn’t do the conviction justice. “OVARIOS,” my friend suggested, when it came up in conversation years ago. Hell yes. I’m still waiting for this to catch on.

Of course strength, courage, and resilience are not always manifest by taking impulsive public action in the face of immediate threats to survival, ego, or status. For how many generations have women held collective humanity up, well after birthing it, serving as tireless caregivers, counselors, mediators, peacemakers, scapegoats, punching bags, breadwinners, and confidants? What countless family and professional units would outright unravel and disintegrate, and then the fabric of society follow, if not for the ovarios deep in the weave?

I write this post not to devalue men or their contribution to society. Their role and relevance are unquestioned.

But please, friends, let us elevate and amplify our praise of women, yes? It is well past time, and there is plenty of room to share on the pedestal.

For a heartfelt rendering of women’s strong, stoic resilience, check out my colleague’s post on her Smiling Grandma.

Onward in solidarity.

Peace Joy Love

Rubber stamp washi tape handmade greeting card, CC, c.2020

What would happen if we challenged ourselves for the next day, week, month, rest of our life, in all of our intentions, words, actions, advocacy, and relationships, to both ground in and aspire to, simply these three core experiences? No really, stop laughing. I’m serious, what would that look like? How would it feel? How would we be and do differently?

It occurred to me recently that in life, in (and literally at) the end, what do we really need other than these? What if at the time of my death, I can look back at my work(s), my family, my friends, at everything I remember and leave behind, and really just bask in peace, joy, and love? Sign me up!

I label them experiences rather than emotions on purpose (is there yet a better word, though?). I’m not talking about superficial sensations of calm and happiness that come and go like weather. I’m after that deeply rooted, unassailable knowing–living, in each moment, consciously, in peace, in joy, and in love. It occurs to me that we can practice this; we can actively cultivate it, with each and every breath.

Of course, that’s it. Peace, Joy, and Love don’t just happen. We get to choose them. This is not an original thought or idea. But I have a new level of insight about it now. I can be peacejoylove at any moment. Would I call it a mindfulness practice? Sure. It’s a choice and an intention, a constant attending to both my outer environment and my inner world. It’s about maintaining a certain resonance, a sustained frequency, a rhythm, that keeps its own time, resilient to distraction and derailment, and that also simultaneously adjusts, adapts, and reorganizes as needed. Like a heart beat. I feel more peaceful just typing this.

I will fail. Repeatedly. Severely. But as they say in mindfulness, rather than judge the departure, I can simply, calmly, and lovingly acknowledge it, and then celebrate the return. Because as long as I commit, I will always return. I can keep going, keep doing, keep being.

So then, what would I actually be like if I did this? How could you tell?

I think I would take deeper breaths, and breathe more slowly in general. I might walk more slowly too, except when I bounce and sashay in rhythm to my favorite songs on the sidewalk. I would pause longer before entering clinical encounters, answering phone calls and text messages. I might pray, meditate, and be still more regularly. I might use even more fun emojis? …nah, I think I may have maxed out on that one already.

I already hug tight. I laugh out loud and often. I look people in the eye and tell them why they are great. I make time and go places to see people, be with them, do things that make meaning and memories. I try new things. I revel in all kinds of awesomness, all around me, all the time. I feel peacejoylove often already. But do I live it? Yes, sometimes.

I have triggers. I react. I lash out; I regret. I have a lot of work to do. But I’m on the path.

ODOMOBaaT.

Bring It.