Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

The snow in these photos is long gone, brushed out of the boughs by dry winds that either soaked it up or knocked it to the ground. Such snowy prettiness doesn’t last long in these parts, when snow is too often accompanied by wind, but on the morning of our most recent storm, it was good enough to let the beauty linger. The delay afforded my late morning venture (hanging out the window to get these shots), allowing enough time to grab the fluffy white stuff before it went away. That was days ago. The branches are bare now, and the skies are gray. There is wind too, but no more snow to pull down. 

It is said that we just had the most depressing day of the year (January 6). This time it was depressing for more than the typical post-holiday-blues reasons and the seemingly endless stretch of winter days ahead of us. The world is in turmoil, the world is in tumult. We hang onto whatever is around us, grasping desperately for what we know, what is comfortable, what is safe. And maybe nothing is anymore. 

Puts me in the mind of an Adrienne Rich poem…

Look: this is January the worst onslaught
is ahead of us Don’t be lured 
by these soft grey afternoons these sunsets cut
from pink and violet tissue-paper by the thought 
the days are lengthening 
Don’t let the solstice fool you: 
our lives will always be 
a stew of contradictions 
the worst moment of winter can come in April 
when the peepers are stubbornly still 
and our bodies 
plod on without conviction 
and our thoughts cramp down before the sheer 
arsenal of everything that tries us: 
this battering, blunt-edged life 
– Adrienne Rich

A Twitter friend recently brought the brilliance of Brené Brown to my attention, and I’d like to share some of that with you now. There’s never a bad moment for finding inspiration, even if it happens in the newly-peaceful realm of Twitter. Here are several of Ms. Brown’s thought-provoking quotes:

“Perfectionism is a self destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: If I look perfect, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimise the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame.”

“Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is just show up.”

“A lot of cheap seats in the arena are filled with people who never venture onto the floor. They just hurl mean-spirited criticisms and put-downs from a safe distance. The problem is, when we stop caring what people think and stop feeling hurt by cruelty, we lose our ability to connect. But when we’re defined by what people think, we lose the courage to be vulnerable. Therefore, we need to be selective about the feedback we let into our lives. For me, if you’re not in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.”

“When I see people stand fully in their truth, or when I see someone fall down, get back up, and say, â€˜Damn. That really hurt, but this is important to me and I’m going in again’—my gut reaction is, â€˜What a badass.’”

“What’s the greater risk? Letting go of what people think – or letting go of how I feel, what I believe, and who I am?”

There is no silence as silent as the silence that follows a snowfall at night. Cradled by its blanket of snow, the world slumbers contentedly, not bothering to barely elicit the quietest of sighs. In the sky, the faded echo of the moon peeks over the shoulders of bare oak trees, then moves on in its nightly journey. 

 Not even the squirrels or rabbits seem to want to disturb this peace at first, waiting until morning to make their paths and mark their trails. I wonder what the owls do. Do they shake the snow off their heads, shifting their feet and shifting more snow as it falls from such lofty boughs? I listen for them, but no one is talking on this night. Embracing the mystery of winter, I shudder in the cold, even as there is warmth in beauty. 

Most of the time, candles don’t capture the fragrance they say they will. Lavender and vanilla scents are the most common offenders, with all sorts of weird sweet and sickly chemical odors masquerading as their real essences. As such, I’m a picky candle selector, insisting on deeply inhaling any candle I’m about to purchase unless it’s a known brand and scent. That’s proven impossible in this day and age, when I’m as afraid to remove my mask as I am to touch an object in any given store. Luckily, I know my favorites, and the one that has been my mainstay for many years has been this ‘Greenhouse’ variety by Yankee Candle. 

It smells exactly like the greenhouse/florists of my childhood, when I’d wander in as a young boy and the owners would eye me suspiciously until I started asking them questions about whether the African violet in bud was semi-double or double, and if they were due to receive any new bromeliads in the next week. Wherever we’d travel, I’d keep an eye out for the local florist – I remember a tiny little flower shop in Boston when we were visiting with Mom. It was across the street from our hotel, and it was all I cold think about. It was just a tiny little thing at the base of what I would later discover to be the other side of Beacon Hill, barely enough room for two people to turn around in at once, but it was all I needed. To be surrounded by all the lush green foliage, and that gloriously pungent odor of earth and leaves and flowers – it felt like paradise – then and now. 

So if anyone is looking for a basic, simple gift for me, you know – just because – this would make an excellent choice because one can never have enough of such a good thing. 

America just barely survived a coup attempt by Trump and the MAGA domestic terrorists, and the fact that some people are still ok with that and want to move on is so unfathomable and infuriating, I’ve needed to decompress. Here’s the brief encapsulation: at the prompting of Trump, a mob of angry MAGA Trump supporters attacked the Capitol, where our nation’s elected leaders were at work, and broached and defiled that sacred space in the name of sedition and overthrowing American democracy. It ended with five people dead, including one police officer.

My husband is a retired police officer, so this probably hit our home a little harder than all the awfulness of Trump’s MAGA terrorists has hit us over the past four years – which for me has been pretty damn hard. Hopefully justice is finally on the way for all involved in the insurrection. We have no more patience for it. Trump incited this. The GOP and media enabled it. I’ve been harping on and pointing it out for four years and I’m officially done with anyone giving space for all the hatred, racism, homophobia, and fascist bullshit that has resulted. All the ‘both sides’ nonsense, the false equivocations, the benefit of the doubt – no more. We don’t abide traitors to American democracy, and every little step that Trump supporters, Trump enablers, and MAGA terrorists have taken over the last four years has been noted. On with the recap, and on with justice.

Basement by candlelight. 

First pho of the year.

A snowy scene of calm.

Floating snowy world. 

A message for the MAGA terrorists.

Sometimes only a cookie will do. 

A moment of weariness.

A snowy night surrounds. 

Wild & crazy Saturday night. 

My Mom always makes me proud. 

I made this soup for my Dad. 

Here’s the deal: it’s Saturday night, America just barely survived a fucking coup attempt, and I just need a Cadbury Creme Egg before the world comes to an end.

Not gonna lie: this week has worn me down and worn me out. 

I’m exhausted and drained from the inexhaustible disappointment of humanity. 

I’m tired of shouting righteous outrage on social media. 

I’m sick of watching the news, almost as sick as I am of what’s happening on the news. 

I’m just spent – empty, hollow, deflated – and I’m not sure what kind of self-care will change or alter that. 

I spent the past few days watching the news, which is never a great idea, but it felt important. This is not normal, this is not ok, and the people who pretend it is, or that there are two sides to this, are just as culpable. 

What’s worse, and what scares me just the slightest bit, is that I’m starting to not care. Maybe that shouldn’t frighten me so. Maybe that’s survival. I know it’s a coping mechanism because I’ve reached points of exasperation with the state of the world this past week when I had to shrug off the news, retreat into my daily meditation, and gain the fifteen to twenty minutes after the session for a window of peace and calm. That helps. Meditation always helps. But it’s not enough to inspire me. 

I don’t even feel much like writing here. 

Today I just need to eat a few cookies and limit time online. 

We shall see…

(Here’s the circuitous route to the recipe.)

Hey MAGA Member  – You aren’t fighting for freedom- you’re part of an insurrection against the United States of America. You’re not fighting for #BlueLivesMatter – you just fought and terrorized police officers to breach the Capitol. You’re not an Antifa member disguised as a Trump supporter – you ARE a Trump supporter, waving your confederate flags and Trump flags, defiling and desecrating our American institutions. And we see you.

We see you breaking and entering a federal building. We see you stealing Nancy Pelosi’s mail and sitting in her office. We see you punching police officers and chasing unarmed guards around the halls. We see you rummaging through the desks of elected officials. We see your attempted coup and we will note it for posterity.

At first I was disheartened and saddened by what was unfolding today, but as I watched in such horror, my husband gently reminded me that your small band of terrorists will not topple America so easily. There are so many more of us – the vast majority of Americans – who will not stand for such an atrocity. We watched aghast as you paraded your faces and images across videos and television and social media – and we watched you pose for selfies amid your destruction. And it will not stand. We have seen you. You have pushed yourselves into the light, and we have seen you. You have tried to destroy our country, and we have seen you. The whole world has seen you. And we will remember.

America is better than this. 

And America will not stand for it.