Out of the House and Into the Streets

Stadt Theater, Bremerhaven, Germany

So this is it. This is how it works in the real world. I've spent most of the past 5 months hibernating, squirreled away in my house, surrounded by all the things I love, battling demons and scratching out words, trying to make sense of something, anything. And then the sun shines for a few days, and the temperature warms up and what? I shake off the lethargy and stretch and yawn and drink some coffee and next thing you know, I've got car keys dangling from my index finger. 

I could never figure out how a person could be agoraphobic. I have been on the go since I got my first permission to ride the bus by myself. I wanted to be with my friends and go places. If I was stuck in the house, I was on the phone talking about future plans. I was the girl, 50 years ago, who would put on a nice dress, flip my hair and put in the little clippy bows above each ear, smooth on stockings ---- yes, with garters, because pantyhose hadn't been invented yet ---- and go downtown on the streetcar, with my best friend, to that upstairs restaurant kitty-corner from Karstadts department store, and order coffee and pastries, just like grown-ups. Then we would stroll down the street admiring the window displays until we reached the Stadt Theater, where we would attend a matinee performance of an opera or symphony concert. How very ladylike can you get at 13? Okay, this was in Bremerhaven, Germany. I doubt we would have done it in the States. But it was emblematic of my passion for being out and about with friends.

Fast forward five decades and here I am, glued to the couch for an entire winter. I don't want to go see friends ---- I don't want to answer the phone. I make myself get out for a few meetings, and once a month or so push myself into the nearly overwhelming company of a couple dozen women and a table full of potluck food. It doesn't help that Jill is a congenital introvert who depends on me to blast her out of the house in the best of times. And the longer I stay at home, the harder it is to get out. So now I see how that fear develops. Even today, when the sun is shining and my countenance is cheerier, I have to assure myself that I can always leave, I'm always at choice, I don't have to stay, it's okay to come home.

This morning, I joined up with a couple hundred of my closest friends to be educated about the pressing issues being presented in the North Carolina legislature, now that it has changed hands. There were some people I actually know, and most I did not. I went to the wrong church first ---- and didn't use that as a reason to turn around and go home. I allowed myself to catch the spirit, to remember my convictions, to rekindle the connection I have with others who feel, as I do, that there is injustice afoot that must be stopped. I even leaped up from my seat and went to the front when the call went out for volunteers from the throng to be the visual representation of diversity in this movement for fair play and justice. I didn't veer off to the parking lot when we moved two blocks to the legislative building. I found the offices of my representatives and spoke my name and left my concerns, and yes, I felt good afterward.

Will it make a difference? I don't know. I believe that efforts like this make more of a difference than sitting on the couch forwarding cartoons on facebook. What I know for sure is that it makes a difference to me. And I guess that's really what counts.