If you know my admittedly nerdy fascination with epidemiology, then it should not surprise you that one of the books I salvaged from the bedside reading pile before everything went into storage was a non-fiction collection of stories by Richard Preston (perhaps best known for the brilliant book "The Hot Zone"), titled "Panic In Level 4." In this collection, Preston capably displays science reportage at its best: telling tales of virus hunters, super-computers and the number pi, threats to forest ecology, and even a rare genetic disorder that causes the most horrific and bizarre form of self-mutilation. (Fans of critical hermeneutics may even appreciate his notes in the introduction chapter about his way and method of nonfiction writing - he is a master at using details of a story to humanize science.) In one of his stories, he defines the concept of an "ecotones:" the biological environment that is the transition area between two other environments. Ecotones are the boundary points between two ecosystems like the boundaries between forests and grasslands or between rocky cliffs and ocean seashores. It turns out that life thrives in ecotones: they are where species and climates and feeding zones bump up against each other and allow for tremendous biological activity.
"Panic In Level 4," by Richard Preston
So I began to think of my new life of temporary unemployment as my own ecotone: I was living my life on the edge between 10 years of the familiar working life in San Francisco and some other new chapter that was yet to unfold. I filled my days with job search tasks: online searches, online applications, even some cold calls and classified ad responses. I applied to education, non-profit, and for-profit jobs. And I tried to stay patient though the "hurry up...and wait" application/screening processes. Sometimes I would reward myself with a movie or a short road trip or a theater outing. I made finding cheap eats in San Francisco a game to fit into my budget. When I changed my perspective and took comfort in the security of my careful advance planning and found confidence in my own skills, abilities, personality, and personhood, I was able to appreciate brand new lessons in life all around me. Lessons like:
- It's perfectly OK to voluntarily disconnect from all technology even though it is still frustrating when technology is turned off inconveniently for you, without warning.
- Living with roommates (something I have not done since 1989) can be great if you are lucky enough to not only have people who share a home space with you, but who really form a community. (Thank you, Guys of 105 Noe!)
- When everyone else is rushing around, routine tasks like grocery shopping and commuting on public transportation become full of the tiniest surprises: finding a perfect bunch of bananas that everyone else has overlooked under the unripe ones, or seeing human and animal faces in the details of building architecture that nobody else sees because not only are they not looking up and around, but they are burying their gazes into cell phones or refusing to look around at their world.
- Silencing the world with a wall of sound wile working on a task is still not as much fun as hearing one person laughing without restraint.
- Living without TV forces one to be a more discerning consumer about which half-hours and hours are actually worth the streaming time the next day. (Yes, my list would include "Glee.")
- Cooking and eating meals is a privilege to really appreciate how much you have and how much the world can provide.
- Having a good spirit makes a person truly attractive.
- There is no end to exploring the city you live in, when you are free from the limits of your home and work neighborhoods only.
- There is a variety of true friendships: some are more helpful than others, some more funny than others, some are more work than others, but all are pretty life-affirming.
And through it all, whenever anyone asked me (with all the best intentions) how I was doing, I was able to say I was happy. I tried to eat well, live lean, stay healthy, go for walks and practice yoga, stay informed about current events and popular culture, and I have been lucky to be surrounded by and supported by new and old friends from near and far. After that rough patch of emotions that I had to face as I entered this ecotone in my life, I really thrived in my own boundary zone, knowing that this is all a horizon to something else that will happen in my life. One of the shows I got to see during this temporary time was "West Side Story" and Stephen Sondheim's lyrics took on a whole new meaning for me:
Could be!
Who knows?
There's something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannonballing down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!
Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Under a tree.
I got a feeling there's a miracle due,
Gonna come true,
Coming to me!
Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming, I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!
With a click, with a shock,
Phone'll jingle, door'll knock,
Open the latch!
Something's coming, don't know when, but it's soon;
Catch the moon,
One-handed catch!
Around the corner,
Or whistling down the river,
Come on, deliver
To me!
Will it be? Yes, it will.
Maybe just by holding still,
It'll be there!
Come on, something, come on in, don't be shy,
Meet a guy,
Pull up a chair!
The air is humming,
And something great is coming!
Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Maybe tonight . . .
It's been a good ecotone life for me: temporarily living on the boundary between a good past and a good future. So I can't complain about that at all. ...But I guess I should have been blogging about it more!
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