Taking the approach of an archivist rather than that of an editor
A reflection on endings and beginnings
This is not going to be an essay on writing, although fellow writers might find what I write helpful. Last year, I spent the bulk of my time focusing on reclaiming the narrative of past traumas. Perhaps as a side effect, I developed this annoying habit that started to get in the way of living in the moment. I would visit with family and friends, but then later on begin thinking, I should have said this instead of that. It isn’t that I offended anyone or anything, and it isn’t like I was delivering some important information to guide someone on a major decision. These were social interactions within relationships that are strong. I think many people do this to an extent, especially when they are looking to craft better comebacks. In the social interactions I am referring to, I was over-editing when I needed to be archiving.
What am I getting at? The key difference in the approach to archiving is to hang onto what is important, which often means including small things that are not important as well. Editing is often focused on cutting. One of the many roles I played in my career as a journalist, and then later on as grant preparer, was to edit copy. Archiving is more about including while editing is more about what can be excluded. Not to say there isn’t good editing, but it is very easy to get into that space of over editing both on paper and in life.
An archivist is about capturing moments with as much detail as possible. When I did my internship with the local Girl Scout council back when I was a senior in college, part of my role was to serve as an archivist. I struggled with it because I approached things from an editor’s perspective. I was encouraged to keep more than I let go of when it came to looking through newspapers, old brochures, etc.
I have had numerous dreams about what my role in an afterlife is going to be. I usually stay away from talking about mystical experiences, but I have learned things from this dream that I am actively trying to apply to my own life. In the dream, reincarnation is the norm, and I serve as a sort of archivist for past memories. There is a lot of editing that takes place, but in some key instances I make decisions to allow people to hold on to painful memories even if the person had resolved the problem or reached acceptance. This wasn’t done to enforce penance, but maybe to provide some groundwork for coping, giving the person a better chance in their next life. I had various reasons, but what it boils down to was that I had to be very cautious about cutting out too much.
When I took journalism classes, my professor would say that our articles were our babies and we thought they were beautiful and perfect the way they were. He would go on to say that they are not; they were smelly and needed several changes! It went on from there when it came to cutting and the analogy became more gruesome, but the lesson was about being concise.
The story I relayed earlier talked about my own over-editing getting in the way of living in the moment. We often do this in life when we focus on getting the great picture rather than taking in the experience. I recently encountered a very camera shy male Bufflehead duck upon a visit to a local wildlife refuge. As much as my mom and I wanted to get that bird in the shot, he kept diving under the water. We were birding by car along a stretch of rural road that runs through the refuge. It is the only way to enter that stretch of the wildlife area this time of year. We captured other duck species with my iPhone’s camera. Neither my mother or I had ever seen a Bufflehead in the wild before, so I said to her, “even though it would have been nice to get the picture, it was so cool to have seen that little duck,” to which she agreed.
There have been times in my life when an accidental reformat wiped out some pretty amazing photographs. This always seems to happen at the worst possible moment, but typically with cameras that are fairly new to the user. Gone is the picture of the wolf I encountered in the wild while driving into Eli in April of 2002. Gone are the pictures that Will and I had taken at Crater Lake in May of 2015. But the memories are there. Having had those experiences… that is what is important.
This visit to the wildlife refuge was on the way home from a doctor’s appointment where I received news that, while not devastating in the way of a new diagnosis would be, still has me on edge. I found out my neurologist would be leaving the state soon. Over the past year, many of the specialists I regularly see have decided to leave the state. I suspect Wisconsin’s regressive approach to reproductive healthcare is a big reason, but that probably isn’t the case with my neurologist, since she is relocating to a state with laws that aren’t much better. While it has been difficult with the other specialists leaving, I rely on a neurologist more than any other doctor, and I was so fortunate to have such an excellent one.
I frequently watch Dr. Aaron Boster’s YouTube videos. They are favorites of many people on MyMSTeam. He did one on how to know if you have a good neurologist or MS specialist, and I will just say that Dr. Aston checked all the boxes. She is a great neurologist for someone with MS! I have a telehealth appointment with her next month and will be asking her advice in finding a new neurologist, as well as talking with my general practitioner. I have already spoke with my insurance to get a list of neurologists in-network, and have contacted National MS Society to know which neurologists had the most experience in treating MS. It is scary to embark on putting together a new care team, especially when you’re someone who has had a lot of negative encounters with specialists in the past.
Life is made up of so many beginnings and endings. Will’s dad died on April 17th. He had been diagnosed with stage IV cancer in the fall of last year, and since remission was not a possibility, he had chose quality of life over quantity. Will had many meaningful conversations with his dad leading up to his passing. I am not close with Will’s family. I had gotten to meet them.
Will moved in with me on April 17, 2007. He had visited me in February of that year, and we made the decision to live together after spending a month together. We met on Second Life in December of 2006. I often complain that timing isn’t often on my side in this life, but Will is a big exception to that. I was looking for someone to invite me to a Real Life Educators in SL group, and he just happened to be on. We began working on projects in SL together and formed a close relationship. Choosing to move from Northern California to Central Wisconsin requires a big leap of faith, and when you are a person on disability benefits, having limited funds, there is this realization that you probably won’t get much opportunity to see old friends and family.
I don’t wish to interject meaning into dates and numbers, but there are these odd coincidences that occur that sometimes give a person pause. I haven’t always been very good at acknowledging how much courage and thoughtfulness went into Will’s decision to move in with me. There was a great deal of culture shock, and I knew that he would face challenges here because I have faced challenges here despite living here my whole life. I have also been part of the solution to many problems in my area, and for awhile now, Will has done that too.
I am immunocompromised due to the medications I take for MS. That said, Will and I take a lot of precautions. I look at the wastewater tracking to see the Covid levels in my area, but also track flu, RSV and norovirus as well. The levels of all of those are low in the area now, so when Will wanted to attend a day-long event at our local library (which has an excellent ventilation system), I said to him that he probably wouldn’t need to wear a mask. Unfortunately, someone who was coughing showed up, left early, and even though Will never got close to the guy, he caught the guy’s cold, and then I caught it. Will has a super efficient immune system. He gets over colds in about two days, and this was no exception. I took a Covid test and it was negative. I wasn’t sure if my sore throat was due to allergies or not, but I had to go in for a CT scan, and I mask whenever I go to a clinic (and in most public areas). I got hit harder, but I think all of the Covid vaccines have helped shorten the time I was sick. To help alleviate my respiratory symptoms, I tried bumping up my allergy medication, Clemastine, a drug that is also being researched to help with remyelination, and guess what? No spasticity. For the first time in a very long time. I will be talking with my GP about staying on this higher dose because while it makes me drowsy, it doesn’t seem to cause as much fatigue as Baclofen.
I am still in recovery mode as I write this, but these past few days as I have been reminded of what having a cold is like (I haven’t had one for more than four years), I have also been taking time to look back and wane nostalgic. Sometimes looking to the past can help us ground in the present and find glimmers of hope even in such a chaotic time.
It can be too easy to fall in to the trap of over-editing, but another journalistic trap that is too easy to fall into is seen in that old adage, “if it bleeds, it leads.” Kenneth Burke defined humans as having five rhetorical traits, and among these is that we are “inventors of the negative (or moralized by the negative).” That is most certainly true, but that isn’t to say that we cannot divert our focus.
There are a lot of philosophical works that tout the message that things are not necessarily good or bad, that isn’t to say that certain things that happen do not impact our own safety and esteem needs. I think a lot of people see me as a pessimist, but I often think that there may be some unforeseen good that can come from change even when it is scary.
This is a stressful time for me in regards to my healthcare, but the important perspective for me to have is that I come into this now with the correct diagnoses, adequate treatment, and the knowledge to walk away from anyone who does not follow through with what is helping me.
I'm so sorry to hear about Will's father, the loss of your neurologist, and your cold! I'm glad to hear you're in recovery, and I hope nothing else happens to impede it.
I believe in reincarnation, and it always annoys me when people justify actions with "you only live once!" How do you know? I guess "you only live as many times as you need to live to learn whatever you need to learn" just doesn't make a great bumper sticker.
One of the things I've always admired about you as a creator is your fearlessness. I don't know anyone else whose high school art project actually got censored. I always assumed that it had to do with your ability to work with the creative process, rather than against it, like so many of us do. I tend to edit a lot because I'm so afraid of criticism. Well, less now. I've been working on it. Maybe you've just always better understood that creativity is not about being "right" but respecting complexity.