"...Then are we in order when we are most out of order" (On "Henry VI, Part 2)

I've struggled to find an entry point to discuss this play. In truth, it feels more like three plays than one coherent whole, even more tangled than its predecessor in the mix of history and legend surrounding the near-mythic figures of the early years of the Wars of the Roses. In it, we see the meteoric treachery and rise of the Duke of York, who would not see the crown on his own head, but whose two sons would eventually wear it before being struck down in turn by the Tudors. But I have more questions than answers.

The first play-within-a-play concerns the actions of Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, as she seeks the aid and advice of the unholy in her quest to unseat Henry and Margaret and place the crown upon hers and Gloucester's heads. Her witchcraft within the play is based in fact; Eleanor was convicted of witchcraft (really, consulting astrologers for news of the future, but a trumped-up charge benefited enemies of her husband) in 1441, along with Margery Jourdemayne, Roger Bolingbroke, and Thomas Southwell. Her three accomplices were executed, and the duchess was exiled.

There are only two women in the play, and they are pitted against each other from their first lines; both are viewed as evil, deceptive, conniving, and scheming to control the throne. I love Shakespeare, but I am tired and I cannot help but point out how influential he has been in our culture. When one of our most important cultural sources repeatedly reinforces the idea that women are full of deceit, jealous of each other, and constantly hounding their husbands for more power, what does this do to our collective imagination?

The third section of the play concerns the rebellion of Jack Cade, which took place in 1450 (the events of the play are highly condensed. In reality, the rebellion was one of many over hundreds of years in which the common folk of England sought redress against the crown for abuses of power, particularly in this case those of the Duke of Suffolk. Little is known about the historical Jack Cade, but the play presents him as a figure of menace and mirth, full of lies about his background and lineage.

Most striking at first is how Cade's promises morph and change as his power grows. At first, he promises the commonfolk "reformation": "seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops and I will make it felony to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass...there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score..." He promises satisfaction for all their small wants, but with no plan for how that shall occur, and at first he only claims that he wants to be king.

But then, a more ominous note appears. A clerk walks by, and Cade and friends waylay him. When told that the clerk can "can write and read and cast accompt" (do math,) Cade responds with "O monstrous!" The clerk's crime is then compounded by the fact that he teaches young boys to also read and write, to which the rebellious tribe decides to "hang him with his pen and ink-horn about his neck." Later, Cade mentions that the Lord Say "can speak French; and therefore he is a traitor." His argument is that anyone who speaks with the tongue of the enemy must therefore be an enemy, and that knowledge of the enemy cannot make one a good counsellor; ignorance is king.

In the play, Cade's rebellion nearly succeeds. He takes London town and bridge, and is only brought up short when Clifford begs the commoners to relent, invoking the name of the beloved and late King Henry V, and suggesting that they save their ire for their true enemy, France. It takes little, then, for the crowd to turn on Cade and drive him out, and he is later slain in a garden.

In the middle of all of this, we have the pious and gentle young King Henry VI and his Lord Protector Humphrey of Gloucester. Gloucester is brought up on flimsy charges by the pack of lords who hate him for his influence over the young king, but Henry seems powerless to stop them. And smack dab in the middle of the play, Act III, scene i, there is one of the most heartbreaking monologues in all of Shakespeare, as Henry mourns the downfall of his friend and father figure, but is impotent to stop it.

Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,
My body round engirt with misery,
For what's more miserable than discontent?
Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth and loyalty:
And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
That e'er I proved thee false or fear'd thy faith.
What louring star now envies thy estate,
That these great lords and Margaret our queen
Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong;
And as the butcher takes away the calf
And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
Even so remorseless have they borne him hence;
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling's loss,
Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case
With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes
Look after him and cannot do him good,
So mighty are his vowed enemies.
His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan
Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.'

Shakespeare's imagery here, of the cow running up and down crying for her calf, tears at the heart. But it frustrates, as well. Why is Henry so ineffectual? What is it that keeps him from exerting his power as king to stop the proceedings in their tracks? Shakespeare is still a young playwright at this point (1591,) so it's possible he lacked the ability, time, or support in the theatre to fully flesh out a reason here, but it's frustrating.

So what is the message of Part 2? What can we make of this combination? All falls apart for Henry and his followers when they kill Gloucester. Was he Lord Protector of more than just Henry? Perhaps all of England? Is this a warning? Ha ha, this is what happens when you DON'T have a Protector! But what about an audience watching who DOESN'T have one? There is unease that sits in the pit of the stomach as we watch the villains come first for the women, then the most morally upright, then the educated among us. Who will protect us? 

Life Update

Yes, I know, I got a tad behind on the Shakespeare. I have been told that I have at least one dedicated reader, so I promise the Henry VI Pt. 2 post is coming! I hope this post will explain why I'm a little behind schedule.

First up, something to celebrate - I got accepted into graduate school (again!) Thanks to the hard work and fast turnaround time of some wonderfully supportive people on their recommendation letters, last week I was formally accepted into the Master's in Arts Leadership and Cultural Management at Colorado State University! It's an online program, so I'm not going anywhere. It's designed specifically for people looking to switch careers towards or move upwards in the arts, and my hope is that by the end of it (2 years,) I'll be prepared to move into an administrative or leadership position in a theatre, museum, or other cultural center somewhere. I was officially admitted on Wednesday, because there was an issue on their end with a transcript getting lost, and classes started the previous Tuesday, which means I got registered on Thursday and promptly had six assignments due. But I am off and rolling!

Which brings me to celebration #2 - dance! Over the weekend, I competed for the first time in a dance competition at Derby City Swing, and I won first place in my division! It's just a baby step, and I have a hugely long way to go in the next division (Novice,) but it was so gratifying to see some of the work I've put in over the years finally pay off. Dance has been a complicated beast for me for a few years. I love doing it, but for a long time there was pressure to make no mistakes, and because of the situation I was in, I wasn't really encouraged to improvise or play in my dance, only follow and stick to basic patterns. Now that I'm doing it for myself, and not for anyone else, there is joy and play in dance again, so I am trying to remember that the fun part is the important part, not the competition. (But let's admit it, getting a trophy was AWESOME.)

Then there was some other, not so great stuff, that happened. Some of it is not my story to tell, and is just part of the fact that I am lucky to have people I love who turn to me when their lives hit speed bumps. One of the things about having people in your life that support you is that occasionally the time comes when you repay the favor, and there was some of that this week as well. But it's all worth it to see someone I love come out of a bad situation and remember the awesome person she really is.

And last is the fact that my biological dad died last week. This is a complicated situation that involves years of emotional abuse, so I haven't had a relationship with him in over a decade. But he was buried (or at least a memorial service was had) on Sunday (I didn't go;) which was the same day we got the news about Kobe Bryant's death. I've had an extremely visceral reaction to the Bryant death, because there is this whole debate about how much respect we owe the dead. (For those who don't remember, he raped a 19-year-old in 2003 and never really atoned for it.) What about the respect we owe to people who are still alive, who have been hurt by abusers? I've been silenced several times on facebook threads by both men and women who are just so ANGRY that I'm bringing up the fact that he raped someone, calling me "disrespectful," "a horrible human," "just mean," etc. They are far angrier about my mentioning the rape than they are over the fact that he raped someone.

And so this is connected very closely to how I feel about my own life right now. I've buried this last paragraph in a blog entry that almost no one reads, and it features no details about my dad's abuse, and yet I am terrified about the outcome of speaking up. Who, tomorrow, will tell me that I'm a horrible human for saying that my father abused me in emotional and other ways? Will it be a family member? Why is his reputation more important than the fact that my brain will literally carry the scars of that abuse forever? There is "taking the high road," and then there is just plain self-flagellation. I've said nothing to anyone that would carry that news back to him for 25 years. When does the silence end? And what will I do when someone accuses me of lying? What purpose would there even be to me lying about this? "Why didn't you bring this up when it first happened?" "Uh, because I was 11, and he was my dad, and I thought this was all normal, and I kind of did tell the family therapist, but it didn't change anything, which further reinforced the idea that it was all normal." "Why can't you remember the happy times with him?" "Uh, because there weren't any. All I remember of him is the control, the anger, the manipulation, the walking on eggshells and constantly feeling like I had to perform in just the right way or rage would break loose and sweep us all away."

I am 38 years old, and I am just now breaking free of the need to seek approval before making decisions. I'm sure I'm going to get a lot of disapproval for this post, for daring to speak up against the legacy of man who was on a school board, and worked on the Saturn rockets, has seven patents to his name, raced for NASCAR, and dealt in antiques, had two grandkids, on and on and on. But he was mean. And he made me feel worthless every time I spoke to him for 25 years, until I refused to speak to him anymore. And then he continued to send me mean letters until I moved last year and he didn't have my address anymore.

Maybe people will be mad at me for speaking up. Probably. But it can't hurt him anymore, just his reputation. And I'm just done thinking that any man's reputation is worth my silence any more. If he wanted to rest in peace, he should have tried living in peace. And if it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed.

"Give me leave to curse awhile..." (On "Henry VI, Part I")

I'm somewhat obsessed with Joan of Arc currently, having recently finished Marina Warner's Joan of Arc: The Image of Female Heroism. Despite all my medieval scholarship, somehow the details of the Maid of Orleans' life had heretofore escaped me. Coincidentally, Henry VI features Joan, including many of the actual historical details of her life and trial, in combination with the propaganda that colored the English public perception of her character, providing a fascinating and conflicting portrait of her role in the war between France and England in the post-Henry V era.

First up, a little background on the play: there is much debate as to Shakespeare's role in its production, with some scholars claiming he had no hand in it whatsoever, to others staunchly defending his authorship. The current wave of thought seems to be that he did indeed write it, but as a collaboration with other authors, which fits with the somewhat (to me) clunky effect of the plot. In addition, there is confusion about when, exactly, the play was written. There is evidence that a play about the particular subject matter was performed in 1592, but other scholars claim that the text as we know it is rather a prequel, written to capitalize on the popularity of the second and third plays, already in existence. It's also possible that Shakespeare (or another playwright, or a combination of the two,) wrote the earlier version of the play, which was then improved for later production, which happens to be my own opinion. There are just too many late-medieval holdovers in the text for it to be a completely original (not necessarily in dialogue, but in scenes and characterization.)

The scenes with Joan of Arc in particular illustrate this fact. When she first appears onstage in Act I, scene ii, the scene corresponds with what we know from history and urban legend. She claims divine guidance from Saints Katherine and Deborah, as well as from Christ and Mary themselves. She identifies the king of France, Charles, though his courtiers sought to beguile her, as history claims occurred in fact at Chinon. In all aspects, Shakespeare depicts her here as Joan la Pucelle, the Maid of France, inspired by God to lead France to victory. Nowhere in this scene are we given any indication of villainy or deviousness on her part, much less evil-doing.

As the play proceeds, while Shakespeare deviates heavily from historical accounts of battles, until Act V, most of Joan's scenes continue in this vein. It is unlikely that Joan ever fought hand-to-hand, as shown here, and her later trial partly hinged on her unwillingness to ever commit violence against anyone. Nevertheless, her character remains consistent throughout the first four acts of the play; she fights for France and her king, while using both strength of arms and her wiles for her country's benefit. She speaks of purity and courage, and is by all accounts a noble and superior knight.

By contrast, the English lords scrap and squabble amongst themselves for power and privilege, while the adolescent, impotent, and easily-led King Henry VI looks on in dismay. Shakespeare's scenes involving the English lords are acknowledged for their confusion. With the exception of the soldier and general Talbot, who leads the English forces in France, audience members most likely find it difficult to support any on the English side; many old grudges resurface, dividing into factions that inevitably lead to the downfall of the English cause in France altogether.

In France, though, until Act V, all of the French lords and generals, including Joan, are always seen together, as a single unit. They fight and infiltrate together, even when using disguises and secrecy, as when they sneak into Rouen as peasants.

The later Henry VI plays feature this theme heavily: that it is the English penchant for factionalism and infighting that leads to their losses in France. Whether the first play is a prequel written after the success of the second and third plays, or was an earlier production later enhanced, this very visual evidence underscores the same theme. The French work together, as a unit, and remain successful, while the English undermine each other for personal gain, or fail to work together for the common good, as when they argue about whose responsibility it was to send more troops to relieve Talbot, and it ruins their cause.

And then we get to Act V. And for the first time, we see Joan la Pucelle alone.

It is this scene, in particular, that lends weight for me to the theory that Shakespeare both wrote the play in collaboration with others, and that it retains holdovers from an older, previous version. This scene undoes Joan's character completely. In it, we see her renege on all of her earlier Christian imagery to call on devils and demons to aid the French cause. The scene contains very specific, dramatic stage directions from the devils, including them "walking, and speak not," hanging their heads, shaking their heads in denial, etc. It's a curiously medieval form of pantomime that recalls the morality plays of earlier decades, and is probably the scene that leads some scholars to claim Marlowe's hand in the play, as it is reminiscent of his work on Doctor Faustus. But Faustus hardly stands alone; it is part of a long tradition of plays wherein devils and fiends make appearance onstage amidst smoke and noise.

But this scene, along with the following scene for Joan in which she claims pregnancy (unsuccessfully) to avoid burning at the stake, provides us with an abrupt about-face for her character. Of course, the popular opinion of Joan within the English imagination of the time was that she was a witch and a harlot, so these scenes are not out of character for the audience of the time. However, they are inconsistent with the very heroic character we have seen so far, who claims such devotion to her cause and Christ that when

"In complete glory [Mary] reveal'd herself;
And, whereas I was black and swart before,
With those clear rays which she infused on me
That beauty am I bless'd with which you see." (I.ii.280-3)

Shakespeare, even in his early works, also never shied away from creating complex female characters. Why the oversimplification of Joan?*

Within a few short lines after Joan is hastened offstage, the only other woman in the play appears, Margaret of Anjou, who will become one of Shakespeare's most villainous of female characters. She, too, appears innocent and virginal at first. Is this a remark on Joan? If not, it's certainly an awkward moment for her to appear, right after the only other woman in the play is burned at the stake.

Frankly, the entirety of Act V feels like a combination of pandering to an audience who wants a violent finish to a play filled with discussion and intrigue, combined with a need to complete a few necessary plot points. Is this the ending Shakespeare intended? Or was this the result of several minds working together, with separate priorities? The last few episodes of Game of Thrones comes to mind. Why are we still falling back on women's duplicity or madness as an easy plot point that just explains everything? Ugh.

* Ironically, since the English burn her anyway, refusing to believe that she is indeed pregnant, doesn't this mean that they believe that she was, indeed, a virgin?

"Conceal me what I am..." (On "Twelfth Night")

Conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent. 

- Twelfth Night, I.ii

As I mentioned above, I am participating in Ian Doescher's Shakespeare 2020 Project, and the first play was Twelfth Night. Written somewhere around 1601 or 1602, the play is largely considered the last of Shakespeare's real comedies before he moves into his more mature "problem play" era.* It relies heavily upon established tropes of the time - mistaken identities, master/servant protocols, marriage as a happy ending, and - most notably - cross-dressing and gender confusion.

The play begins, of course, with the shipwreck of Viola and Sebastian upon the foreign shore of Illyria, a country which seems to be undergoing some sort of revel for the three-month period over which the play is set. The twins are separated, and both assume the other dead. Immediately Viola begins dressing as a man and feigns the name "Cesario" to take up employment under the local duke, Orsino.

Viola has been played by a host of actresses in our modern era, with directors setting the stage from Regency England to the Edwardian era, to fantasy scenery, and beyond. Costuming-wise, however, almost all productions feature Viola's "Cesario" scenes with her in some type of uniform. Take the most famous recent film production from 1996. Here, Imogen Stubbs plays Viola, in a version set in what appears to be turn-of-the-century England. Stubbs' Viola/Cesario is dressed in military costume.

In 2009, similarly, Anne Hathaway played Viola in New York's Shakespeare in the Park, with similar effect, this time as a Regency-era soldier, seen here with Raúl Esparza.

Even the 2006 modernization of the play, "She's the Man," has Amanda Bynes in a private school dress jacket (left.)

Lest you think this is merely a modern affectation, even the earlier versions of the play feature its actresses in the uniform of servant's livery. See below, with Vivien Leigh as Viola (with Trader Faulkner as Sebastian) in 1955 at Stratford, or Judi Dench in 1969 at the Royal Shakespeare Company (those boots with the crenellated tops!! *dies*)

What does it say about us as a society that the most "masculine" form of dress, or the one that most clearly indicates "male-ness," is that of a standardized uniform? The very word implies "sameness." Of course, the audience does need some sort of visual indication of the difference between Viola-as-woman and Viola-as-Cesario. But why no other options than that of a uniform?

At first glance, in a modern play setting, this seems sort of straightforward - young woman disguises herself as young man. But any historian knows that women were not allowed upon the stage in Shakespeare's day, which means that Viola would have been played by a man; in fact, most likely she would have been played by a boy old enough to appear like a young woman, but young enough for his voice not to have dropped yet. This means that Viola would have actually been a young man playing a woman playing a young man. Modern productions often skip over this difficulty altogether.

One does not, however. A production I would sacrifice my left kneecap to have seen live is the 2012 Globe Theatre's version, directed by Tim Carroll and and starring Mark Rylance as Olivia and Johnny Flynn as Viola. Costume designer Jenny Tiramani won a Tony award for her designs, as she strove to create the most historically-accurate costumes possible for the production. Star Mark Rylance wore period-correct stays which he claimed limited his range of motion** and developed a particular floating walk which emphasized the almost legless, alien quality of the character of Olivia. You can see Tiramini's designs and Rylance's movement within them here and here.*** Her designs were not the only historical accuracy: as in Shakespeare's day, director Carroll chose to cast all male actors, forcing his audience to avoid the mental shortcuts available to other productions. What does this do to us as we consider gender within the contexts of the play?

What is most immediately striking is how the costuming highlights the ambivalence of gender in the 2012 production. If we allow our modern perceptions of masculinity to intrude upon them, the dress of the male characters of "Twelfth Night" seem downright effeminate. The lace and frills of Liam Brennan's Orsino and the powder and gilt of Flynn's Viola/Cesario leap out at us as surely belonging to more feminine characters, while Olivia's stark black mourning and stillness fall more in line with the (male) uniform of modern productions.

Without our modern sensibilities getting in the way, the production is forced to rely on the words of the playwright, the skills of the actors, and the range of historical knowledge of the audience. By all accounts, it was an immensely successful performance, and a tribute to how close attention to historical detail does not need to be pedantic or peevish - it can, indeed, contribute to the themes of a play.

Not to leave out our other two ladies, let's just check in with Maria, the scheming, petite little "firago" servant of Olivia's. She, too, would have been played by a young boy, and lines in the play suggest that she would have been depicted by a younger one than Viola or Olivia, since she is often described as petite or small. Paul Chahidi played her on the Globe's stage in 2012.

Other versions of Olivia are more typical of the "leading lady," but this blog post wouldn't be complete without mentioning Bonham-Carter's lustrous fragility, or Kara Tointon's 2017 RSC version, set in Victorian England, which allows it to use all those carefully-coded messages involved in corsetry and bustles and hair all bound up or loosely flowing.

Next up: Henry VI, Part 1!
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* Doescher scheduled it first, despite its late date, so that it would coincide with the actual date of the twelfth night of Christmas, January 6. Nevertheless, the play itself doesn't seem to refer to any Christmastide activities, and takes place over a period of three months. Anne Barton's excellent introduction in the Riverside Shakespeare provides an overview of the best scholarship we currently have regarding the title's intent, as well as the play's first performance date.

** To this, I add a bit of a "harrumph," as they, frankly, shouldn't. Stays and corsets, properly fitted, shouldn't limit movement or breathe in any way. However, as an actor who is accustomed to breathing in a particular fashion, or who wishes to add drama to an interview, I'll allow it.

*** I have to admit, my first experience with this costume was actually costumer Zack Pinsent's interpretation of it from earlier this year. I came across this video, which initially was mistakenly labeled by its sharer as being a costumer on a hoverboard. While a unique concept, and one I would be interested in seeing, it's not what's happening here, though it's easy to see why a casual viewer would believe it. Neither Rylance nor Pinsent are on hoverboards - they are just immensely talented body movement artists: Zack Pinsent as Olivia.

New Insta!

Oh hey! I had someone ask about my costuming. I've never put it all in one place before, and sadly it seems that I'm lacking some documentation for some pieces, but I thought Instagram might be the best place for it. So if you're interested in following along as I update my skills in that arena (and perhaps others,) here it is!

At_Whits_End_Here

2020: Ready Is a Lie

I don't like the concept of resolutions. They imply that the past version of you wasn't "enough" somehow. Not working hard enough, didn't have enough willpower, wasn't smart enough, not making enough of the right decisions... To resolve to be different in the new year means that Past You wasn't good enough. But really, Past You made the best decisions that she could with the resources and knowledge that she had at the time.

But goals? That's something I can get behind. And since I'm hitting the "restart" button on my life, I have been given the rare gift of time and opportunity to set goals that are truly meaningful to me. For the next two years, I hope to grow into myself in ways that were never allowed until now, for various reasons ranging from the expectations and needs of others, to my own perfectionist inner narrative. This blog will hopefully serve as a form of accountability to these goals, and a way to communicate progress towards them. It will also serve as a journal of sorts, a semi-regular dialogue of one woman's journey towards rediscovering herself and her talents and abilities in an effort to unlearn what does not serve and share that growth with the world.

Without further ado, those goals are:

• Scholarship and Career Change: I've already submitted my application for my second master's degree, this time in Arts Leadership. I hope to move from education into the world of the arts, and use my skillset to help make the arts accessible and inviting to all. (It's a two-year program, hence my two-year plan here.)
• Write: Everyday, write something of substance. (The blog doesn't count, as it's personal reflection.) My intent is to hopefully create some sort of funding out of my writing skills, which have been developed over a decade of secondary humanities studies (and, admittedly, the intermittent internet argument.) Whether this be writing nonfiction articles for Medium or other outlets, or adding pages to my first novel, my intent is to produce 500 words a day, 5 days a week, for the first few months, and then hopefully raise it to 1000 if that is working for me.
• Sew: I've done a fair share of historical costuming since 2009, but almost everything I've created has been completed with restrictions as to time period, needs of a specific event, etc. I hope to begin sewing again with two distinct goals in mind:
1. Learn more techniques: So far, I've acquired information on the fly, learning how to sew specific methods as they became necessary for that particular project. While I expect to continue in this way somewhat, I plan to choose projects that stretch my skills and allow me to learn a range of techniques that raise my overall level of craft.
2. Create art: I hope to create not just copies or interpretations of existing or historical garments, but to meld art and costume and create new designs that express ideas.
• Read: I've always read a ton, so this isn't a change, but rather a commitment to making sure that I am not just picking up the next book that looks interesting, but ensuring that my reading shelf remains broad and deep. 
• Additionally, I intend to follow along with Ian Doescher's 2020 Shakespeare Project, which reads through every work of Shakespeare's throughout the 2020 year. Every work takes from four to eight days to complete, so it's a brisk pace until you've got free time, but I read Renaissance era writings pretty quickly (yay humanities master's degree!) and I want to brush up on some of my Shakespeare. I've read probably two thirds of his plays at some point or another, but never in order, and I've missed too many along the way. If you're interested in joining me, let me know! I'd love to share thoughts about the plays.
• Body Work: I'm covering a few things under this heading, but this mostly includes a deeper commitment to dance, particularly West Coast Swing, as well as a daily commitment to yoga and meditation. This is for two reasons:
1. First, to keep my body healthy, I will need to just plain get off my butt. I don't think I need to elaborate on the host of health benefits to regular exercise.
2. Second, yoga and meditation in particular have clinically shown benefits to PTSD survivors in calming the nervous system. As a survivor of emotional abuse from multiple points in my life, I am working to overcome my body's trained reaction to triggers, and this is one method of doing so. 

This doesn't include work on my personal life, as I'm not quite sure how to set goals for that other than "keep being honest" and "show up for your people." It also doesn't include work around my house, though I have some distinct goals there, and progress on that might show up here, too.

My first struggle will, I am sure, be an intense battle with ADHD and the fact that there are a million fun things to do around my house that don't involve thought or work. I mean, my bed alone is the warmest, comfiest thing on the planet, and that's before I get three kitties piled on top of me. So dealing with being accountable to myself is somewhat of a goal all on its own, but it's one where I just have to to show up and do the work. (Ha! Just show up and do the work, she says!)

Which brings me to my title: "Ready is a lie."

I was never going to be ready for this. 2018 ground me down to dust, I thought, but it made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. I learned to stand up for myself. Learning that, in turn, meant that I had to break some more things in 2019, things that weren't happy for this newer, stronger version of me. Nobody's ever ready for change. Change is hard. But ready is a lie. If you wait until you or someone else is ready, you will moulder in the ground before you ever enact any kind of change. So I'm not ready for this. But I'm going to do it anyway.