I've been giving online lessons and living in isolation for seven days.  Today we continued the book topic: risks.  Some activities aren't as risky as we think, and in certain situations, we should trust the guide which speaks from inside.

After the break (we all need breaks), I had them read a New York Times article from five years ago about how society needs more awe because experiments show it makes people more generous.  They said we should give ourselves time to be wowed by everyday events in nature and human behavior, seeking awe in a variety of forms to complement the occasional jaw-dropping pushing-the-limits kind.  I would also add that more overall awe would be experienced by humans, a benefit in and of itself for intelligent existence.

I know I can write a book about taking risks for the reward of awe which enhances the greater good of material society and living spiritual imagination.  I must enthusiastically embark on an adventure into infinity's creativity, the risk an investment of time and the perfection of how it has appeared in my mind, giving the ideal permission to become real as a story takes the stage of the first page.

I am thankful for all varied technologies which connect and protect

I woke up this morning and did exactly the same thing I did the previous morning: think about how cold it was going to be running from my bed to the bathroom to take a shower.  I think I read several Atlantic articles before I finally made the dash to the bathroom, where there is a small heat vent.  Afterward I made a quick breakfast and started a fire before inviting students to a Google Meet where we would hold class.  Every once in a while I had to ask for a moment and go put another log on the fire, blow on it for a few seconds, and then return to my electric blanket.  The temperature outside was 23 degrees the 1st morning here, and 40 degrees inside, thanks to fires the night before.  Today it was freezing when I woke up, but eventually got up to low 50's.  I never thought I'd teach with a hat and a blanket.

After the exhaustion of packing up my possessions accumulated over 6 years in NYC in just a few days, riding 6 hours and unloading until 3 am my first night here, and then teaching at 9 am the next morning, I'm looking forward to sleeping in.  Having said that, it's great to see the students' smiling faces, to communicate with other isolated humans, to feel useful, to have people to laugh at my jokes, to cheer each other up.  The topic in the book was "Working Together," about team problem solving.  After that, I made a point of teaching about my favorite teacher, Professor Joseph Campbell, the expert on mythology I've mentioned so many times as an inspiration for my travels and large parts of my world view.

We discussed our various ideas of "bliss" and what it means to us, but I think the most important quote of his which resonates with these strange times is, "Where we had thought to be alone, we will be with all the world."  We may be apart, but we still need one another

6 Years, 5 Months

In October of 2013 I spent seven days driving from California to New York State, a couple days upstate gathering reserves of energy, and then drove a few hours south to New York City, where I've been these 77 months.  I got a job at a language center two days after arriving, and I still work for them.  I just wanted to increase my communication skills while working on my writing.  After two months on my friend's couch, I had enough money to get a small room in Harlem, which commenced yet another living experience in New York, New York.

I will admit that for all the times I've spent writing about truly blessed gifts of discovering wonder again and again amidst amazing various scenes, I must apologize, city, as I have, very often in this small room, yelled in anger from impatience and stress, fits where I swear at this noisy smelly cramped crowded crazy city.  Since I'd spent the better part of four years roaming the world and the country, I often felt locked up here.  Having lived outside in the snow and had periods where I changed apartments month after month, I guess I really appreciated having a stable home, because although I loved that I'd found a month-to-month lease, I spent more time living here than I have anywhere since I left my parents' home after high school.

Of course, this wasn't my first time in the city.  I'd moved here shortly after graduation in 2006, and lived in Brooklyn and Queens until the recession of 2009, where I read about Joseph Campbell's hero journey and chose to have some new adventures.  I worked in Manhattan, but it was in office positions.  The past six years have been spent teaching, and I know why I have worked for the same place for the duration even though I'd never spent more than a year with the same company when I arrived.

Now we're facing another recession, with more uncertainty than usual in our future.  My company had a meeting about the situation a couple weeks ago, but we were starting a new session and had more students than ever.  Spring blossoms abound, new faces smile, laughs, learning, even some kind of something called love?  Yet we were watching the news, and the future looked dark.  We went from Monday being told that we weren't as large as the colleges that were closing, to Thursday telling students that we weren't sure we'd see them Monday or not.  On Saturday we were informed that students were going to be given the option of taking online classes from home, but that they could still come in and we'd be teaching online and in class.  On Sunday they closed New York City schools, so we were informed that all students would learn online.  After a day where I got to ponder how long it would be until I returned to a foreign language classroom, or if I ever would, I wished the (once sixteen and now) ten morning learners and three afternoon women well and told the first group I would see them online and the next group that I still wasn't sure.  I wished them luck either way.  Teachers received video conference training online the next day, and I taught my first video class the day after.  I must admit, I think it's really fun and definitely worthwhile if they can't be there with you that day, week, month or so on.  Even so, they say you shouldn't work in the same room where you sleep, and I've been having difficulty sleeping thanks to that and other things.  Our first plan was to re-evaluate/re-open in two weeks, even though NYC schools were optimistically hoping for late April.  We're taking it week by week, so we have replaced original improvised plans with a tentative resume date a week later.  We will see.  I understand the financial situation, and our school isn't the only one dealing with the effects.

After days of multiple contingency plans, I have chosen to reside in the countryside and reconnect with nature.  There has been a frequently changing cast of characters comprising the four roommates around here, and for far too many years I've been the veteran resident.  I think it's time I explore writing, teaching and getting to know fellow humans somewhere else.  New York City will be here, and some day it will be itself again, although who knows when.

Thankfully, I will use the miracle of the internet to continue instruction and communication with smiley travelers from various locales, at least for the near future.  I know I will have to make plenty of new choices as I journey, which is the way I've usually enjoyed new adventures.

Night rain is the scene as of writing, yet I look forward to pleasant memories of this small room where I wrote so much of what I continue to say, admiring the way the sun bathes the only in New York City pre-war apartment buildings, with those humans they call "New Yorkers" of all colors shapes, styles, rhythms and smiles strolling by as I enjoy the rustling of the leaves in the concrete laced park trees with myriad words whispering sex behind the lingerie displays which play under the sign which says Broadway, all while the lampposts guide winding paths of snow, raindrops, birds, humans and whatever else journeys along, the easy access to our Hudson River, a wild and steady reminder of upstate lakes, mountains, canoes, hiking shoes, pine trees, spring breeze, new backpacks and steady kayaks (go forth!) a simple turn of the head north.

A swivel of the neck to one's left, and one's given the most rewarding glow of skyline' show, telling timeless tales of how many puzzle piece books... who knows?  Always new clues celebrating what to do, in between explorations of magic jazz shows and new musical tunes.  Amazing avenues awash in art, but now I embrace a new start where I will abide by the natural rhythms vibrating in the countryside.  New York City, I thank you for this opportunity to meet so many new vessels of dreams, hearts, and uniquely experienced informed minds.  I salute round two, and someday, if we please, New York City will welcome a Round Three.

Until then, au revoir, I will write next in a larger room, a privilege, an honor.  I will live as well as I've magically gained knowledge how to do whether with others or occasional solitude.  I thank you, New York, New York.  Somewhere north until we gather in such a neon town as ours again

Whoever is reading now, I know that you're dealing with the uncertainty of these times as well, and perhaps have much larger concerns than I do at this time.  As to the utmost matter of health balanced with liberty, we all have reason to be concerned, and many people have more reason to be concerned than others right now, so we're not only doing this for ourselves, but also as a sacrifice for those who have paved the way for us in the world where we live.  I say some form of prayer every day for having health, enough food, safe shelter, the ability to move around and people to love, all of which take center stage even more now.  The strange thing is I'm pretty sure they are for everyone these days.

Monday I taught classes in a classroom, perhaps for the last time ever.  Today we are home.  Tomorrow we begin online classes using video conferences.  I still don't know if I will have a full schedule or not.  I will learn in a few hours.  When I said good bye to my final class on Monday, it still wasn't even clear if I'd see them again via the internet, or if they'd be combined with another class.  My company has lots of pressure right now, and students on visas must be offered classes.  We get week to week payments from students, instead of full semester tuition, and we won't be getting any new arrivals any time soon given the travel bans/the general state of everything everywhere.

Thus, I have been making various contingency plans in recent weeks, but especially in the past 48 hours, when we learned that all classes would be moving online after NYC closed their public schools.  Technically we are suspended for two weeks and will make a new decision at the end of the month, but the news and the facts don't portend well for re-opening.  I may be on unemployment soon.  That is okay.  I have people who love me, and projects that have been crying out for me to spend more time on.  I would prefer to transition from my life in the city more slowly, with good bye gatherings and warmer weather, but the news is changing so fast that I'm thankful I'm on a month to month lease, have a car with a full tank of gas, and have a few places I could go safely without endangering anyone.  I don't have to leave though.  I could stick it out here, I could teach remotely from several safer locations in the state, or I might be unemployed while living here (for a monthish) or somewhere else.  If NYC goes into a San Francisco style lock down, at least I can take walks to the park and the river, see the sun from my window and get food.  I've got 3-4 weeks of supplies... when you eat beans, oatmeal and sardines on a daily basis in your normal life, a normal grocery store experience can look like panic buying.

And I'm aware of all the jokes, but you definitely stock up on toilet paper when you share an apartment with four guys who routinely try to duck responsibility for buying and will go days without anything on the roll before caving (presumably because we're all hoarding a roll each for emergencies... then again, I once had to explain to my 50 year old roommate that paper towels shouldn't be flushed).

As for the day to day, anyone who has lived in New York has at least some built up tolerance to strange situations.  Then again, people panic shop for kale when there's gonna be a mild snow storm.  When I really need some courage to go about the day, like taking the train to crowded international classrooms the past couple weeks, I reminded myself that ten years ago I was on the Ho Chi Minh Trail walking behind my Cambodian guide, hoping they were 100% correct about there not being any landmines on the way.  Watch your step, as they say.  In India, you had to wash your hands or use hand sanitizer pretty frequently, and keep an eye out for those little malarial mosquitoes.  Every time you got in a rickshaw or in a car or on a bus or motorcycle, you knew that you would just have to trust the driver and the other drivers and hope you made it to your destination safely.

As a world, we need to be more aware of hygiene and healthy habits anyway, and this crisis is shining a light on how wasteful our society was to begin with, and how we really only need the bear necessities to survive.  There are already larger economic repercussions that will reverberate for a very long time, but first things first.

Today is St. Patrick's Day.  My grandfather, Michael J. Sullivan, was alive for World War I, the Spanish Flu, the Great Depression, fought in the Second World War, and then everything that came along for Americans to endure until 2005.

Papa Sullivan wasn't much of a drinker, and in 2020 I've been doing so much less, but I will still raise a glass of Guinness to his memory today, which involves kindness, generosity, toughness, hard work and the ability to have fun

Einstein's Birthday

A screen reminded me that it's Albert's day of birth today, and that I'd shared a quote of his about the human right of freedom for the individual to be creative, but also that the government must protect citizens and allow them to become such creative individuals.  I remembered that years ago I wrote about a quote about "people who live in a society, who enjoy looking into each other's eyes."  Each quote seems a little out of place given the current state of events.  Today I went hiking with some friends just outside the city in case we have to delay our enjoyment of spring in the near future.  School is transitioning to online classes, but we still have to report to the classroom for the time being, unless the government decides its citizens would more likely receive protection from staying home, which would entail those who teach doing so online from home.

There's a book on my shelf with some of Einstein's opinions, in fact, it's called Ideas and Opinions.  I opened it up to where the bookmark resided, and it was a short speech from the 30's, in Albany, New York, where he was talking about the importance of education in bringing about world peace, and how nations cannot live separately from each other, because the problems of nations seemingly far quickly become our problems if we don't work in cooperation.

I think for the near future it would be very sensible for all American teachers to look into their students' eyes via the mixed blessing of electronic screens so that we may all get through the winter spring transition and hopefully make it to a summer of gratitude for life and those we love, remembering how blessed we are to look into each other's eyes to smile, and om, all while giving and sharing genuine words of grace

Plenty more light with each spin's moves

We are all aware being of love energy on mysterious journeys

I was feeling kinda depressed when I got up this morning, and I was kinda achy also.  That was annoying and confusing, because several weeks ago I'd had my first bout with the flu since college.  I only took one day off because I hadn't accrued any paid sick leave yet this year.  My company advanced me a sick day, but I'm glad I only took one off (I still waited a full day after the fever went away), because it's scary to know you can only get sick four days out of the year before worrying about making it through the month.  Go America!  I think my pain this morning must have been somewhat psychosomatic, because I'd just learned things weren't looking up for the candidates who support expanding medical care to as many Americans as possible, and this just a few days after learning about this new sickness landing in New York.  Maybe people will understand that the health of society affects their own health.

Anyway, I went to work as usual.  I haven't been this mindful of what I touch and how much I wash my hands since I was in India.  Talk about a journey through memory lane.

When I got to work, where all these people from around the world are jam packed in small rooms together, I watched the students give speaking presentations.  I finally got to teach Listening and Speaking again, after a two year hiatus, so I'm enjoying that again.  A Japanese woman who researches dementia taught us about her area of expertise.  I thought of my grandmother who'd battled Alzheimer's for ten years.  I thought of the candidate who had succeeded on so-called Super Tuesday, and how he tends to forget what he's talking about by the end of his sentences.  I hope they're just verbal foibles.

Everyone left the room for break, except for a Russian student.  She has very white skin and long blond hair.  She noticed Gary Shteyngart's Lake Success on my desk and asked what I was reading.  It's mostly about a rich white man and his Indian wife in New York.  Had she asked on Monday, the answer would have been Alice Walker's The Color Purple, which is about a poor black woman in the South and the people she knows, mostly the woman she loves.

Well, it turns out she loves reading fiction.  I asked her if she discusses books with her friends in St. Petersburg, to which she replied, "Yes, all the time.  People get busy, but one must make time for books."  I'm very aware of her country's rich literary tradition.  I know that newspapers want me to think that all Russians are out to get us, but I'll never forget the lesson from Egypt: "people aren't the same thing as their governments."  If she is a spy, I don't have any government secrets to offer, just grammar and spelling tips, encouragement and smiles.

I love discussing all manner of subjects with my friends, some of whom are more educated than others, but very few enjoy reading or talking about books.  Even when we had free time in college, I got made fun of by my friends for being a "book nerd" while they were busy being "War Craft nerds."  They actually had the order mixed up though.  They got addicted to that game they never play anymore, so I started reading more often because they were so busy with that game.  I'm thankful it's worked out this way.

Anyway, the woman eagerly discussed books with me for the rest of the break, including how the smell if the paper makes them Superior to screens, and I started to feel better.

I wasn't going to write about that, but a curious thing happened twenty minutes ago at the grocery store.   I was waiting in line to get an apple and some tea, when I noticed a guy a few rows down turn and cough, not into his hand, but kind of away from his hand.  Then the cashier at my row coughed as well, but into his jacket collar.  So then I'm saying hi to the cashier, because he often rings me up.  By appearance, he's the opposite of the Russian woman.  He's African-American with short black hair.  He asked me if he could ask me a question, because he knows that I read.  I was kinda confused, because I didn't think I was often holding books in my hand, and the book I read on the train is usually in a pouch in my bag in between my back and the bag.  But maybe I've carried them on a few occasions.  Either way, he asked me if I knew where the nearest Barnes & Noble was.  I told him to go to 82nd and Broadway, where I spent hundreds one day in September.  He thanked me because he'd been reading a book about mindfulness, but someone had stolen it.  I told him that now he'd be more mindful of where he left his books and that wouldn't happen again.  We did a fist bump, as we often do, which I suspect is about to be more en vogue with people of all skin colors.

Now I feel much better.  Thank you books, and thank you readers

Strong health is truly the greatest wealth

You're exploring new ways of finding balance every day, such gifts surrounding