Disability Awareness Month, the Big Bill Spells Disaster, and Essay Writing, Plus a New Poem in Cave Wall Review

Goldfinch in wildflowers

A Tough Week: Disability Awareness Month, the Big Bill, Essay Writing

Did you know this is Disability Awareness Month? I’ve been spending a lot of time deep breathing and walking in the lavender field to take my mind off the stress of this week’s passing of the “Big Bill” that will end up taking away money from disabled people, hospitals, nursing homes, and of course, hungry children. I didn’t celebrate July 4th at all—no fireworks, except Glenn made a cake to share with neighbors, which feels appropriate. I guess after cutting SNAP we better up our donations to food banks too. Not feeling very fond of my country, and especially its leadership, right now.

Glenn and I in wildflowers in Woodinville

So, my anger and the urgency of the issues made me turn to an unfamiliar genre—essays, which will be read by more people and faster than poetry. So, I sent out two essays and one of them was already accepted (to be published in September). Luckily, the timing of my essay writing class could not be better—prompts and workshops every week and I’m already feeling more confident. I feel like the abled world does not understand the thin thread that disabled/chronically ill people walk between dying and not dying all the time—based on insurance, availability of drugs and doctors and hospitals, and oh yeah, a caretaker because you can’t do everything anymore.

This “big beautiful bill” puts everything on that thin line in jeopardy, and Republicans that signed it have signed the literal death warrant for disabled people, people in poverty, and some of those poor and disabled will be children. I hope the tax cut for billionaires will be worth it for them. I hope they all lose their seats in congress when people figure out what they’ve done. I cannot wait for Trump and the GOP to be out of power. It cannot happen soon enough—and literally, if it doesn’t, I will be forced to reconsider leaving the country. Did I mention Microsoft has laid off 15,000 in two months? (That’s where my insurance comes from, from Glenn’s job.) So that isn’t helping my anxiety at all. I am looking at viable options for both school and work out of the country at this point, just in case. A place with free health care and free school would be amazing. Why don’t we have those things in this country? Why don’t we start demanding them? One of the themes of this year’s Pride parade was “loud” and I feel like that applies to Disability Awareness Month as well. Keeping quiet will not protect us and it won’t protect others.

Sylvia with Cave Wall

New Poem in Cave Wall 

But I would be amiss if I didn’t say I was thankful to receive my contributor’s copy of Cave Wall, where I had a poem, “Self-Portrait as Wisteria on a May Night.” There were lots of friends in the TOC too. Here’s a sneak peek at the poem, but check out the whole issue too.

Hummingbird in fountain

Next Week: Anniversaries, Birthdays, and Guest Teaching in Eastern Oregon

So next week is eventful—Glenn and my anniversary, Glenn’s birthday, and me getting prepared for the trip to Eastern Oregon for a teaching/reading opportunity at the low-res MFA program’s New Nature Writing Conference. I’ve never been and I’m looking forward to meeting the people and the students and seeing what Eastern Oregon looks like. I’m just trying to juggle a lot right now, plus the stresses mentioned at the beginning of this post. Thank goodness for hummingbirds and gardening and writing. I hope you are all taking good care of yourselves—and check this space for more info on essays soon!

New poems in Flare, Upcoming Appearances: Nature Writing Conference, Not Being Fearful, More Lavender and Hummingbirds

Me in the lavender garden at sunset

End of June: New Poems in Flare, Upcoming Appearances, Lavender and Hummingbirds

Hello! It is nearly July and it is finally acting like summer here after a prolonged gray and rainy period. I’m happy to share a couple of pieces of poetry related news in this update—new poems in a literary magazine called Flare, and an upcoming appearance in Eastern Oregon.

On top of that, talking about fear and more lavender and hummingbirds because that is what I think might make the world a better place. The lavender garden is J.B. Family Grower’s in Woodinville, and the hummingbird perched on penstemon is from my back porch. Tonight when we visited at sunset, Mount Rainier was out, and the garden smelled amazing. I’m trying to sneak in as many visits as possible into our busy schedules.

New Poems in Flare

Mount Rainier, lavender at sunset

I’m happy to share three poems that are up in this new issue of Flare Magazine, a newish online journal dedicated to chronic illness. The three poems are: “There’s Something Wrong with Me, She Said,” “Before the Infusion Center,” and “After an Appointment with a Disability Therapist,” all based on a true story 😉 I am actually proud of myself for writing these poems because they are much less guarded than I usually am about my disability/chronic illness. The truth may scare some people. But I am trying to push past my fear and write more authentically about my experiences in the hopes it will help others do the same, or at least feel more comfortable talking about their experiences.

Check them out at the link below.

3 Poems by Jeannine Hall Gailey

Upcoming Appearance at a new Nature Writing Conference in Eastern Oregon

And I’m going to visit a new Nature and Ecology Writer’s Conference out of Eastern Oregon University in just two weeks. I’ll be doing a reading and a workshop on solarpunk poetry on July 19th. What? Never thought you’d see my name and “nature writing” linked online? Thought I’d be more likely to be talking at a sci-fi conference? Usually you’re right! But I’m really trying to push the envelope on my own writing in terms of writing truthfully about the environment but also finding hope when talking about the future.

Here’s more about the conference, in La Grande, Oregon:

The EOU New Nature Writing Con returns for another year

When Am I Letting Fear Take the Lead?

And I’m trying out my boundaries and saying yes to more opportunities. Who knows, maybe I’ll even teach again? I don’t want to live my life in fear anymore, especially when the world is so uncertain around us. I can’t wave a magic wand and make everything better, but I can stop letting fear make my decisions.

So, I am starting a new class on essay writing, and I may try to put together a manuscript of essays. I may even try my hand at YA fiction after many years of avoiding it.

It starts inside us. If we are afraid of everything, we will not act in the way that’s probably the best for our lives. And our lives are so short! If you follow this blog, you may have noticed that I’ve been talking about the deaths of two friends in the last year. It made me realize that no matter how safe, how good, how many right things you do, you really can’t protect yourself, and in that case, why not: write the authentic truth about your life? Venture further out into areas that might not be exactly the best for your disability or food allergies but might be an excellent way to connect with a new community of writers? Why not try walking a little further every day in the lavender farm (or your local trail), because maybe right now is the best my body will ever be? Why not stand up to bullies in politics, or befriend someone who is a little different form you, or read whatever books you like no matter who says they’re okay/appropriate? If I am a poet, why can’t I also write essays or fiction? Lots of my writer friends do this already. This made me think about the cages we put ourselves into, the prisons that are our routines or relationships that hurt us or a country that doesn’t value us, or people that don’t treat us with respect. Why not reach farther, try a little bit harder, face more risk? I don’t think that my basic personality has changed, but perhaps I’ve started to think harder about my decision making, my day to day life, what really brings joy or makes me feel like I can make a difference in the world? Courage interests me. I want to try to be braver in a world that is pushing us to conform and obey. Once again thinking of writers and artists in the French resistance during WWII—they may not have been perfect, but they tried to make a difference when a lot of people kept quiet…and didn’t. What about you? What would you do if you felt a little more daring, a little less trapped? And scientists that won’t shut up when the population doesn’t feel like scientific thought is worthwhile, or maybe it’ s inconvenient for them to think about what the scientists are saying.

Wishing you all a joyful and authentic summer in a time where joy and authenticity feel like rebellion.

Solstices, Poem in Shenandoah, Memorials, Waxwings Appear and Lavender

Cedar Waxwing

Solstices, Memorials, Waxwings Appear

The Solstice arrived here gloomy and rainy, which seemed appropriate for the day of Martha Silano’s Memorial. It wasn’t formal, but there was music and poetry readings and a tribute from her students. I also saw some old poet friends. I cried in the car on the way there. It’s still hard to believe she’s gone.

Cedar waxwings appeared in my neighborhood that day, which were one of her Martha’s favorite birds, and our friend Kelli has several poems that mentions a connection between grief and waxwings, including “When Women Die, Waxwings Appear” in her first collection, Small Knots.

Lavender Farm in Woodinville

New Poem in Shenandoah’s 75th Issue, Lavender Farm Opening

In happier News, I have a poem in the new 75th Anniversary issue of Shenandoah, and our local Woodinville Lavender Farm had its opening weekend. The whole issue of Shenandoah is worth reading, and the lavender farm had good turnouts—it’s just down the street from our house, and we’re so grateful it’s there—a balm and a joy during these difficult times.

And I should say, we’re all in difficult times. I came home from Marty’s memorial to see that Trump has decided to bomb Iran, and that major cities should be on “high alert”—whatever that means, none of it good, I’m afraid. Today I spent the majority of the day dodging AI-generated images of nuclear destruction. Those of us born in the 60s and 70s remember the information we were given about what to do if hit by a nuclear bomb—at school, at home, and a cute (!) video about what we do if we’re in the playground. We need all the days in lavender fields we can get.

Here’s a sneak peek at my poem in Shenandoah below, which seems to fit the nuclear-anxiety times, but you really should go check out the entire issue.

Full Strawberry Moon, First Swallowtail, American Anxiety, and More Goldfinches on the Wing

Full Strawberry Moon and the Benefits of Outdoor Time

I got to watch the full Strawberry moon rise and then fifteen minutes later disappear behind clouds, so I was glad I was outside to catch it. I had another crown sans novocaine and this one was pretty painful AND was wrongly fitted so had to be reglued a day later. These dental work things knock me out, and left me unable to even get out of bed—but I still had work to do—a tutorial to be recorded on Zoom, e-mails to respond to, an essay to finish, and submissions to send. So when I was so achey and couldn’t focus, I went out on my back porch. And guess what? I had the happy luck to see our first neighborhood Swallowtail butterfly on a neighbor’s privet, rufous hummingbirds, and even found that the fresh air helped my aches and pains. A reminder that getting outside even when you feel you can’t drag yourself out of bed is usually beneficial. And picking up the camera always brings some joy, especially this time of year—and surprises, like the Swallowtail.

More Goldfinches, and American Anxiety

Goldfinch in tree

So, every night this week, there was a new horror to confront: a Democratic congresswoman and her husband murdered in Minnesota, Iran and Israel starting an escalating conflict, the military being turned against American citizens, another gigantic plane crash, Trump’s sad and expensive birthday, and the No Kings protests (better attended than Trump’s parade, by a lot). I am working on just surviving every day and not feeling overwhelmed with horror. Anxiety dreams all week. How are you coping with all this? I am going on evening walks, losing myself in film noirs, reading new books, and trying to keep my physical self working as well as possible. I know stress is bad for the immune system, but darn it if I can figure out a way to not feel stressed right now. Thank goodness our neighborhood lavender farm is opening in another week—at least the experience of walking through those gardens, it’s hard to not focus on the smell and beauty of the lavender, the mountain, the birds, and the friendly farmers. It does not bring world peace or a change of leadership in DC, sadly, but it’s something to look forward to.

So let me know about your stress-reducing secrets in the comments.

Record Heat, Goldfinches and Hummingbirds, Busy Bee (Me!) and Feeling Limitation

Goldfinch on Fountain

Record Heat, Goldfinches and Hummingbirds, Busy Bee (Me)

Today it got up to 90°F—record-breaking heat—and the last three days have been almost as hot. This means the hummingbirds and goldfinches have appeared, usually for water, and I have been hiding from the sun. My MS symptoms have been acting up (not unusual in the heat, but still aggravating—fatigue, headache foot drop, and trouble swallowing—have all been taxing). Another day for an MS patient in summer! I feel like that Frozen snowman during the other seasons—imagining summer but not realizing how dangerous it is. Then I’m like, “Oh right, this is why summer is so tough!”

Rufous visitor

But I can still enjoy the beautiful birds and I’ve been busy with work—working on an essay, sending out poems, and working on another tutorial for Writer’s Digest. Soon I’ll be doing a class on writing essays and judging a poetry contest. I also need to get back to writing new poems and working on my next book. I just wish my brain and energy levels would cooperate. Meanwhile, any glance at the news and social media (my heart is with you, LA) just produces stress and feelings of helplessness and worry about our democracy in a country that seems obsessed with AI and not at all concerned about our dwindling constitutional rights. Trying hard not to feel trapped inside and trying not to doomscroll. Am I succeeding? Sometimes…

Glenn and I with delphinium at the Willows Lodge garden

I keep dreaming about being on a plane to Paris. Where I live is beautiful, but I do wish I had the power and health to travel when I wanted without worry, like many of my friends. I’d love to visit England, where I have a friend or two in London, Ireland, and France (again— it’s the only country in Europe I’ve spent any signifigant time in, but I loved it so much and am longing to go back).

It’s tough to acknowledge limitation of any kind—physical, mental, emotional. I’d like to be doing more, traveling more, having (or going to) parties, participating more in the world. I don’t want to let fear run my life, but I also want to be realistic. It’s a tough balance!

Wishing you a happy beginning to summer!