Two of my oldest friends were planning to visit me in Iowa City this fall. I called them a few weeks ago and cancelled the trip. Postponed it, really. As I wrote in my last blog, I’m in a place right now where I’m having to say no to things.
One of the many friends and mentors I’ve talked with over the last month told me that he thinks of himself as a mollusk. For him, the world is a dangerous place and sometimes it is important to retreat to a hard, defensive shell. His comment made me think of the last piece of advice Kurt Vonnegut offered in his final book, A Man Without a Country. One of my classes just read this book so it is on my mind. Vonnegut shared with the reader what his father told him at the end of his funny, bleak, and somehow hopeful book: When in doubt, castle.
For those of you who don’t play chess, castling is a chess move. It is a defensive move that a player makes when things look bleak.
I’m castling right now. I am, to the degree that I can, mollusking.
***
I met both of my two oldest friends a million years ago. Middle school and high school. In high school, one of them shared the Far Side comic at the top of this blog with me.
“This reminds me of you, Sam,” he said. This was probably during our sophomore or junior year at Mounds View High School. I didn’t know whether to be offended or to laugh. I probably did both. I’m still doing both, really.
Nervous little dogs prepare for their day by drinking coffee. It was true that I was little and drank an enormous amount of coffee. And I always woke up early. It was also true, I suppose, that I was nervous.
I’ve always imagined myself as a frenetic, anxious person. It is part of my charm, I think. I contained energy that spilled out of me and led me into all sorts of creative projects. That energy has served me as a teacher. Served me as an improviser. Spilling out my frenetic energy has been a part of me all my life, I suppose.
My anxiety does not feel charming right now. I can’t spill in the ways I used to spill. Something has shifted and I’m reckoning with the new ways that I’m experiencing the world. I don’t think this is a bad thing. I do think it is a hard thing. That is my moment right now.
***
I’ve shared this before, but I’m reminded of what a student at Iowa told me a few years ago.
“I was always a little high-strung,” he said, “but after Covid I feel like I have actual anxiety.”
His comment stays with me. I’ve always been a little high-strung, a little frenetic, but these days I feel overwhelmed by anxiety.
So I’m saying no to things. Even to two of my oldest friends coming down for a quick visit. I’m castleing. I’m mollusking. I won’t always be like this but, for the moment, I’m trying to take care of myself. Level out a little bit. Figure out how to keep moving down the road. I’m heading in a direction, I think, where I’ll be less of a nervous little dog, waking up early and plying myself with caffeine.
There’s peace in the direction I’m being led, I believe, and I have to head that way now. No other choice.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 