WYFP (which stands for What's Your Fucking Problem) is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else we think might help. Everyone, and all sorts of troubles, are welcome. May we find peace and healing here. Won't you please share the joy of WYFP by recommending?
Tonight we are not expecting snow, so I decide to walk to work. My body longs for warm weather for the first time ever. I-5 corridor Oregon cold is not like Ohio cold and I consider the education of my body as I close in on my first year in the Midwest. It knows the midwestern sun and warm rain. It knows tornado sirens and fireflies, albino squirrels, and the odd comfort of animals that didn’t understand pneumonia, but knew I was sick.
Most of the people I pass on the street will be heading the opposite direction as partygoers and couples are replaced with transients, security personnel, and cleaning crews. We recognize each other after a while, exchange nods. We are the invisible choir of night workers. We are in some ways custodians of the dark and if we work these hours long enough, we will become part of its texture. There is no way of knowing where this tipping point is, but our doctors, therapists, and well-meaning friends sense it coming.
Three different pipe bursts greet me after I clock in for my shift. These are not specifically my responsibility, but I do have to stand in front of one, as two out of three hit public areas in the lobby. My front desk is flooded with foul smelling water.
The woman before me is traveling through the dark. I say ‘is’ because part of her is still moving, still catching up to her physical space. I have some understanding of this feeling, this loss of phase with the rest of the world. She has been inundated with snow and ice, and her family was involved in a small accident on the way here. Everyone seems glad to be in the lobby now, despite the smell and roped off sludge. Tonight they will sleep in free upgraded rooms and I will arrange for the hotel to pay for a meal before they check out tomorrow. The gears that hold brain and body and soul will click back together for this family, and they will no longer exist in the dark.
//
I wrote that a few days ago. Reading it again I'm beginning to understand my FP might be that I focus too much on other people's FPs and don't take better care of myself. Recently, a family member told me if we gave ourselves the care and attention we gave our pets, the world would be a better place. Fresh food, water, a warm place to sleep, walks, toys, maybe other pooties to play with, and love. This is not a bad point.
How long since I have gone for a nice walk in the sun?
//
My FP is discovering a few days later the liquid in the lobby was sewage.
My FP is my back, hips, shoulders crying for a real bed and not the Spartan cot I sleep on now.
My FP is now understanding why ancient cultures had so very many Midwinter Make The Sun Return festivals.
Yet I am learning to find light and warmth in new and sometimes small spaces. My pootie is hanging out with me as I finish this up. My house is quiet. One of my roommates is in Florida right now on vacation. Hopefully he will bring back the sun.
Until then, here's to what keeps us cozy in the dark. Here's to a warm place, or whatever you fancy. Here's to telling stories over fires both real and virtual, cheering for the return of whatever we need.
Come sit by the fire. Have some wine. What's your FP tonight?