day 12

pandemic 2020 day 12

March 29
Global cases = 679,000
USA = 125,000
Sacramento = 164E (3.27)

I realized yesterday not all of California’s counties are updating numbers daily. Sacramento and Los Angeles are only providing accurate infection numbers every 3 days. The covid19 transmits through saliva so those little paper masks people wear apparently are useless, as they attract and absorb saliva droplets. I also realize that in grocery stores (where the aisles are not very wide and the goods are essential) people are almost accidentally disobeying the CDC recommendations. Example would be acquaintances running into one another within one aisle and trying to cognitively assess the exact distance between them while simultaneously being fully present and compassionate with a fellow human being they may not have seen in a while. We have a natural inclination (which we must now fight) to abide by our life long training in social standards! So it takes a real conscious effort to distance ourselves at ALL times from others by 6 feet or more. The best way to make this happen is spontaneous communication. Listen, we care about one another so let’s be sure: are we six feet away right now? Find your own chosen words and start using them. The two navy hospital ships have now situated themselves on the respective coasts. Mercy on the Pacific (Los Angeles) and Comfort on the Atlantic (NYC). Governor Cuomo is fighting Trump to keep his state from being quarantined, and has described this in language which hearkens back to the Civil War! This would be a declaration of war against the state of New York. As of this morning, Trump has backed off the quarantine. They say such an order would only cause pandemonium as residents of New York would likely start to flee the state. Once again, Democracy as a political system is a funny thing. Any leader has to take into account peoples mobility and, like the stock market, has to take the pulse of public sentiment, which is often a far cry from fact. You have to legislate with people’s feelings in mind, because you only have so much influence over them. Personally, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
dear friends, if you wish to follow all of my pandemic diary posts, please visit my website https://www.katyamills.com  if you think i should keep posting them on K IS SILENT please leave me a comment and let me know! stay safe  ❤  Katya

January 2, 2020

up at dawn thursday, first month of the year. i listen to the heater ignite off the pilot while drinking coffee from my union jack mug. the heads of the palm trees are bobbing, dancing. i see them through the window, signaling the storm. i think back on what i have accomplished and ahead to the challenges i face. into my sixth year (first year as a manager) for a nonprofit organization. i am responsible not only to my staff but also my psychotherapy caseload. stressed and tired i come home looking for calm and rest. while i wish i could be building community, i cannot always summon the energy. i tend to devote more time to my writing projects at home. i have to strike a balance to sustain physical, emotional, spiritual, and psychosocial health. there’s only so much you can do in a day. i am trying to devote more time to reading fiction. considering how life has gone this past year and what lies ahead, i guess what i hope for is to keep a spiritual core. move away from self-criticism or comparing myself against other measures, and towards acceptance of my life, as is. there are plenty of ways i feel disappointed. and while i want to allow myself to feel, i also want to check it against my reality, the context of my life, and show myself some love for staying on the pulse, and going after what matters, courageously moving forward in the proper direction. being successful in my chosen career. i am lucky and blessed to be alive and have my family and friends, food and shelter. i have enough cash on hand to navigate a capitalist society, and a fair amount of freedom to roam around and position myself in the places where i feel useful and valued. i am grateful for the gift i have to outreach to my community in ways i see i can help make a difference. thank you for visiting and reading. i wish you all the best today and in the new year. keep the faith. keep after your dreams.  – katya w. mills

remix 96

i ran the streets
she saw me struggling
my struggle became ours

october
cold days under big sky
leaves dead and tumble
pale faces passing

she saw with her soul
images in her head
she painted painfully
bold

while i lay on a couch
watching light
she swung herself over and
into my arms

dropping elbows into my chest
pinning us into the cushions

together
laughing

we ran the streets
we were young
all was told

gone the glittering
gold

-Katya
(remixing diary (1996) entries)

cocaine (1996)

I found this piece I wrote in script, 1996
(black cover diary)…

cocaine

sweeping the powder
with the tip of the fingernail
composing your lines

and nothing can bring
you back

bend the neck down
let a shoulder drop
turn your head to one side

meet your creation

the tide comes in
washes you away

fade gently into the horizon
behind a cloud

the undertow

your world has
consumed you

-Katya

2003-2013

i moved to california from chicago hoping to renew my life. i was always looking 4 the energy to carry on. depressed and reluctant 2 try antidepressants after all the pills in china failed to help. some good people helped me get through the day by days. i got a job and sold my house in illinois. i bought a truck and read some books. i could not write anymore. not without cocaine and bourbon with milk. believe me, i tried. i carried a deep sense of self-betrayal (though no longer self-medicating and destroying myself). a better life was waiting to receive me. my demons were not done with me. i read more books. i walked around and thought. i enrolled in graduate school to study transpersonal psychology. i read William James and Carl Jung and Bill Wilson. i wanted to make a difference in my community. i had to teach myself to be responsible all over again. i had to be alone. to write without putting anything in me. just a cup of coffee or tea…ten years later i found the courage to really live.

diary

all my life had fallen apart and i was a ghost of my former self. all i had left were a couple of friends, a will to survive and some powerful feelings i could not often control. three things would become central to my acquisition of a better life…

a renewed faith
a renewed integrity or personal code
a courage to fellowship

journal

journal # 04.09.18

i experienced a period of several years when life became more challenging and lended me freedoms i had before, and lost. i can appreciate these socioeconomic freedoms more than i could before, when they had come more by luck and birthright and privilege than hard work. this time i would have to earn my freedom. early to rise, i kept the pulse on my spiritual practice.

aka

Gettin’ to be great at anything is like throwing yourself into a whiteout a snow sky (not a blackout) and surrendering to how the world feels you touches you allows you to exist… and fights you to see what you’re made of (engulfs you if you’re not made of anything worth asserting yourself) and celebrates you if you can stay in it’s light (and darkness) long enough (aka endure) to change and tolerate pain, and work at staying the same while changing. call it core values if you want. call it spontaneous expression. call it art or authorship if you want. call yourself god. see if I give a fuck.

journal

Journal # february five

A school of puffed up little clouds swam across the sky, chased by a storm, some were not quick enough, i saw them overtaken by the darker water vapors and manipulated into the greater whole. i myself was running, too, through a morass of thick mud and robust grasses, softened focus without my eyeglasses. i split into two and then into four (could have made eight if it weren’t such a chore). i once loved our leader, but not anymore.

the cats don’t know

the cats don’t know what to do with me

i saw my bean counter guy at the café today and got the word on the new release, soon to be roasted. i’m not a big fan of ethiopian so i discarded the news while enjoying the curious taste of the organic peru being served. i bought a cup of that. i like this café because here it’s presumed you are a human being and worth talking to, which may not go for much in other cultures but trust me, here in corporate america there are plenty of spaces where no one will talk to you and you will draw suspicion if you try and be friendly. i got a croissant, went home and fried an egg with bacon to put inside it. i burnt the bacon but not all of it. my coffee got cold so i took the opportunity to reheat it on the stove with some rice milk and dark chocolate, swiss miss. i’m pretty sure i planned it that way. meanwhile my car was being ticketed across the street without my knowledge. i was enjoying my mocha while sitting on my couch in the morning light, a furry throw pillow supporting my lower back and the coffee table setup perfectly before me to hold my laptop and allow me an ideal position to work on my novel, which i did for a half hour or more before i spilled my coffee on my new faux oriental rug, cursing under my breath and running for a rag and some water. the cats don’t know what to do with me. now i owe the city of Sacramento fifty-two bucks for street cleaning obstruction, and the driver’s side tire keeps deflating on me so it will have to be replaced. all these setbacks broke the fragile beauty of my writing bubble, so i took a nap. i found myself irritable in a meeting at noon. at least i showed up. i perked up a little after meeting a few new friends to discuss fresh applications of narrative therapy, not a widely embraced modality but we wish it was. i guess it all started in australia, too, which makes me smile. damn, i could use a vacation down under or enveloped in the mountain folds of new zealand. i think i even have friends there. too bad my passport’s expired and i can’t afford to travel. honestly i’m just trying to keep my microcosm together and live an honorable life and keep my bubbles sparkling whole in the air.