The healing journey of a widowed, unschooling badass in Delaware.
If there hasn’t been full compliance (With what exactly? Guidance has been shifting, they lied about masks, restrictions are confusing and sometimes contradictory, and the “laws” are ad hoc and unenforceable), what rational mind would expect 100% compliance to occur?
Without the compliance you call for, our numbers are magnitudes below the predictions. The noncompliant have been reinforced in their beliefs by results.
How is calling them stupid going to get your desired results?
The Lockdown is killing untold numbers. Many sources have numbers already beyond covid deaths. The years of life lost due to the economic restrictions are outweighing the likely years lost by covid deaths.
I don’t think it’s a close call. But if it is, if more freedom will equal approximately as many deaths as less freedom, then YES give me more freedom and allow me to use my own capabilities of risk assessment.
I don’t take any of this lightly. My seemingly healthy wife died from complications arising from influenza. Did somebody go to work when they shouldn’t have? Did somebody not wash their hands? Should she have skipped a hug? A party? A homeschool field trip?
Would she have lived a smaller life knowing she might die in her 40s? Or a larger one?
I’m opting for a large life because I don’t know how long it’ll be. That includes doing the only thing I can do to combat any pathogen: make healthier choices.
Suffering is essential to life. But when it is imposed by a government that has no concern for my wellbeing, then I will fight against it through civil disobedience, sharing information, and applauding those who do the same.
I started this blog category near the beginning of the Covid Lockdown. I used this space to explore the gut-level intuition that the popular narrative was wrong and dangerous. I felt powerless and confused. Little information was available and huge things were happening. I was reading and searching and fighting for a truth that wasn’t clear.
I found clarity through writing, praying, and living by the principles that had ushered me through dark times. It was like becoming a widower again: easier in that I had done that before, harder in that the whole world was experiencing the trauma collectively. There was no one with an outside perspective.
I don’t know how I moved through the malaise exactly, there are many movements to the process and they’re complicated by past traumas and assumptions. But I did move through it into a place of meaning and happiness. As tribes collapsed, I found the individuals who shared my journey and new bonds formed. I saw a rebuilding of community out of the wreckage of government restrictions on assembly. I found my place and purpose.
Part II: Weariness, accumulation of pain, old trauma back for healing, another business shutting down, self doubt, looming threat of increased restrictions, and a salad bowl of shit storms are riding me again.
It’s easier this time. Second rodeo and all that rot. I know there’s a stronger Jason waiting for me at the end of the day. Heck, I know there’s a stronger Jason at the end of this post (’cause the end of the day might not come).
So, back to it. I’ve got a fantastic life that’s only going to get better. I’m grateful to God for the strange miracle gift of language and for this crazy brain of mine that will not accept defeat.
My fears are no higher than those due to influenza. Influenza appears to be more prevalent among, and more dangerous to, school children.
I have the choice to keep my children out of those institutions. I do not have the choice to keep anyone else out, so we maximize our health and engage freely with anyone who respects our choices.
Lots of schools around the world are open, many never closed. Between suicide, depression, abuse, and delayed care, it seems those societies that chose lighter restrictions have come out ahead.
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-07-19/covid-s-spread-in-schools-is-questioned-in-latest-nordic-study
This’ll sound simplistic to many, but maybe it is this simple:
Most people survived the virus with no masks in November to April. The answer then is still the answer: Healthier people are more capable of surviving pathogens.
Every person can be healthier, whether immunocompromised or in seemingly peak health.
The answer is better choices for yourself, because health is individual. Only you can know your body and what it needs. Educate yourself about yourself, then learn what you can do to better honor your body, then do ONE THING better.
Once you see results from that one thing, you will be hungry for the next thing. Then you will be as powerful in the world as you should be.
Hold on, I gotta take this call from Jocko…
If more people aren’t vocal against the Lockdown, we’re going to see more devastation done to our lives.
Whatever version of “life” the technocrats and experts feel we’re allowed to have is not enough. You choose the size of your life, not the length.
If you want to avoid a public you see as dangerous, no one is stopping you. Wear your mask, get your vaccine, stay away from whomever you want, and protect your values.
The rest of us want to rebuild the damage done. The only time is the present. Act today because there may not be a tomorrow.
I’ve been inspired to be a pain in the ass by Tom Woods and Dr. Scott Atlas.
“I am angry at the people who were wrong and who insist on prolonging these policies that are killing people, particularly people who are not in their socioeconomic class. It’s no problem for a person who has a high-level job in government, or an academic job, to sit there and pontificate when the average guy is being destroyed. That I am angry about and I think history will record these people very harshly — it is an epic failure of massive proportion that they have abandoned regular people here with their own hubris and political agenda. In that sense, yeah, I’m angry.”
“All of these harms are massive for the working class and the lower socioeconomic groups. The people who are upper class, who can work from home, the people who can sip their latte and complain that their children are underfoot or that they have to come up with extra money to hire a tutor privately — these are people who are not impacted by the lockdowns.”
Scott Atlas, by way of Tom Woods’s newsletter: https://mailchi.mp/tomwoods/atlasyetagain?e=f29701e15a
I wasn’t feeling strong yesterday. Something insane inside me told me to do the most physically and mentally demanding thing currently in my regimen to say, “No,” to those thoughts.
I signed up for a Brazillian jiu-jitsu (BJJ) class. In the last four days I’ve had two soccer matches, pilates and yoga, another BJJ class, and I’ve got more soccer tonight. I knew this would challenge my mind and body to a new place of strength.
I was the only white belt in the small class, I grappled with black, brown, blue, and purple belts. As I started my second match with the brown belt, I thought about how improbable this all was. Everything I’ve heard about BJJ is terrifying. I don’t think I would ever walk into a gym and ask for this punishment. I’ve never wrestled, lifted, or even watched ultimate fighting. My physical identity was as a relatively small soccer player.
(By the way, do not think about this kind of crap while you’re trying to pass guard on someone who’s been training for 15 years. That’s all I have for BJJ advice.)
My connection was my sons’ participation in the art. They won lessons almost six years ago in a raffle drawing I didn’t remember entering. My older, Westen, has been training for half his life. Stephen and Reneé Plyler of Elevated Studios have been the most consistently supportive adults in my boys’ lives aside from me.
Under Stephen’s guidance, Westen has become the tiniest powerhouse and mentor you could imagine. I’ve seen him grow into a guide for new students and a glutton for larger opponents in training and competition. I’ve never seen him shy away from a challenge on the mat.
It’s not just Stephen, but the community he has built. Adult practitioners have regularly worked with Westen and volunteered to coach him in competition. Elevated held a fundraiser for us when we lost Mary. The turnout was humbling. I knew then that BJJ was a blessing bestowed on us by God.
I still didn’t expect to practice myself.
Parenting takes bravery. Duh, we knew that, it’s a prerequisite. When you choose to homeschool, unschool, free-range, or just plain trust your children with their own fate, you are choosing to test the limits of that bravery.
You will watch them do dangerous things on scooters and skateboards, climb higher than you can stomach, and take risks on stage. Westen once volunteered to read Shakespeare on stage when he knew that he couldn’t read. My heart sank at what a failure that moment could be, how devastating the looks of the audience could become. But he was away, hand raised, charging toward David Stradley of Delaware Shakespeare. There was my fearful investment in that moment. My ego as a homeschooling dad was in danger of my perceived failure to teach my son how to read. I learned a lot in that moment as Westen asked for the lines to be read in his ear. His fearlessness is inspirational. He made me a better dad and human with his courage.
Years later I would feel failure again as I entered him in the wrong division in a BJJ tournament. My miscalculation of his weight and a combining of higher divisions put him well out of his class. I still feel the pain of that mistake, but Westen was undaunted. He fought hard in match after match with experienced competitors who had a seemingly insurmountable advantage of weight. He fought like he could win every time. He cried only after the competiton was done and he hadn’t had one victory. I figured I had ruined BJJ for him. Once he got changed and we were walking to the car, he asked, “When’s the next one, Dad?”
That kind of strength and bravery is unstoppable. He never says no to training, competition, performance, or any new challenge.
God has granted me the privilege of this compassionate warrior in my temporary care. He’s a coach, fellow student, and inspiration to me every day.
I survived a night of arm bars and chokes and I’m feeling strong again. A funny feeling after all the tears this post inspired. It’s all process and I’m grateful for this forum to work out my thoughts in difficult moments.
And I’m grateful for you reading this, God bless,
Jason
A few days ago I saw myself in a mirror. I looked strong. I felt strong and happy. I was between soccer games, cleaning out the garage, gardening, and enjoying a sunny afternoon with my girlfriend.
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Strangers, friends, and family have told me I’m strong in a number of ways.
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I looked down at my legs today and they looked frail. A couple rough days of parenting, someone dear to me reaching out for help in tears, news of another community broken apart by varying approaches to the Lockdowns, and a wellspring of insecurities have transformed the image of my body. I don’t know what good I am to the world in this moment.
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Searching for a positive turn to this post…not there yet.
Delaware wasn’t the worst, but this was the official headline on March 22: Governor Carney Issues Stay-at-Home Order for Delawareans https://news.delaware.gov/2020/03/22/governor-carney-issues-stay-at-home-order-for-delawareans/
Yes, the details permitted limited access to the outdoors, but the list of what was deemed “essential” was nonsensical from the start. And the message was clear: “Stay-At-Home.” Government has no idea how to, nor the right to, define what is “essential.”
The economy is people and their decisions. The government restrictions have ruined some businesses already. Others will be failing soon. Excess deaths due to the Lockdown of medical services (I would expect that measures so extreme that people die would constitute the use of the term “Lockdown”) are criminal and that fallout continues.
Lockdown
A friend of mine in Germany was not allowed out of her apartment for more than an hour per day with her two sons. She’s a single, widowed mom. That’s the government acting like an abusive partner, “I know what’s best for you.”
Melbourne is under Lockdown: https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2020/09/melbourne-australia-covid-lockdown-dan-andrews.html
Lockdowns in Hawaii are devastating the economy: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/hawaii-loses-half-of-economic-recovery-amid-second-covid-lockdown-as-cases-spike/ar-BB196Wxt
Thirteen people died in a Lockdown raid in Peru: “The club held an illegal Saturday night party that was raided by the police. There was panic. Thirteen people died in the ensuing stampede. Officials later revealed that 11 of the dead tested positive for the coronavirus.”
https://www.npr.org/2020/09/08/907084962/peru-locked-down-early-now-it-battles-one-of-the-worst-coronavirus-outbreaks
Many businesses were locked down, unable to open. Most are still locked down in capacity, unable to sustain their already slim margins. Each of the individuals running these businesses were locked down in their ability to provide for themselves, their family, and the community.
Have we been put into cages? No. Are there tanks with loudspeakers keeping us in our homes? No. That’s all, “It could be worse” bullshit. It can always be worse. We’re a nation that went to war over much lighter restrictions dictated by a faraway government. The government that now imposes an economy (read: people and their decisions)-killing Lockdown is insulated from those restrictions. They are far away from our lives and their disregard for human flourishing is inexcusable.
A Twitter exchange got me thinking about screen time in a different light as I’ve been wrestling with the questions of how much/how long/what content…etc…just like every other half-decent parent.
Let me start somewhere else. I happened to see this exchange shortly before giving in to my inner boy and taking my sons to Dave and Buster’s to escape the heat and burn too much money. Mary and I had been once, long ago, probably before a concert on Philly’s Penn’s Landing, I can’t recall. She wasn’t a video gamer, although she had the competitive heart of a gamer. We played an odd horse-racing game that involved feeding and training the horse before the race. We got to name our horse and received a card with her picture and name on it. Ms. Deathray. I kept that card in my wallet for years until the name and everything else wore off. Mary used to bring up the subject of our horse once in a while and we would regret that we hadn’t visited her. A private joke that’s just a bit of ghost now.
I love video games. A good one will consume my time and penetrate my dreams. It’s the oldest secret in storytelling: tell an old story that everyone already knows, even if they’ve never heard it. The stories come from our dreams, so they are more than happy to go home there.
I can recognize when a game gets into my head and begins to take up too much space, but I don’t think children have that governor. Now comes that hard question: As someone who espouses and promotes voluntarism, how much do I impose the lessens I’ve learned and how much do I allow my children to learn those same lessons for themselves? An age-old question that gets really real when your son has tears coming down his face in the ticket redemption store. #BadDad moment number…well, I don’t keep a tally.
Hold on. Let me tie this back to the Twitter exchange. Daring to simplify: analog toys vs. digital toys. What do children crave most? Before we spent hours at D&B: my sons biked around a campground and found some friends (apparently almost fought one), watched me do laundry, had lunch at a legit BBQ joint, visited a butterfly garden, wrestled over a box turtle (I think it’s okay), found some magnificent plums at a roadside stand, visited a library, shopped for a week’s worth of provisions and partook in many samplers at BJ’s Wholesale, and bucket-lined said provisions into our RV.
That should pause you. It pauses me. To paraphrase Jesus: Walk while you have the light.
Mary indulged in life. I did too. When we joined forces, it felt like we were stretching the fabric of each day to its tearing point. I don’t want to slow down. It’s not in my nature and listing one (half) day’s activities before hours of fun on arcade games alerts me to the richness of our lives.
I’m not going to get back to the Twitter exchange in this post, but it did get me thinking about important things.
The fact is that you don’t know what that child who’s on a device has been doing all day. You don’t know what he or she has faced, overcome, had to bear. Same goes for adults. Jesus has taught me to engage, ask questions, get to know people. Their lives are harder than you can imagine. Their pain will seem worse than yours and their achievements greater. Their survival will inspire you. If you listen hard enough and long enough you will learn about generations of hurt.
I’m preaching and I’m not good at practicing. But I’m working on that. You don’t experience pain if you don’t experience love. That’s fundamental, you don’t need faith to see that.
For me, I’ve got that faith and a knowledge that God wants something big out of me. He knows I won’t fold on a hard gamble, better or worse.
I promise to do a post on screen time, I had lots of words on that before I actually started typing.
God bless, I appreciate and thank you,
Jason