technology – stuff – is like that. and we are surrounded by old technology and old stuff. now, don’t get me wrong. i’m not complaining. it’s just a fact. besides, i heard kamala loud and clear when she said, “don’t complain. dooo something about it!!”
and so, i do the workaround. it’s a bit like the electric shuffle, a mix-up of the hustle and the bump, maybe a little macarena-ish. it’s not a pretty mash, but it moves and shakes and gets it done.
a little over a week ago my laptop died. there is a grey folder with a question mark flashing when i turn it on. this is not good news for a macbook from 2008 – the year my girl graduated high school – and i immediately shut it down, in the hope that the next time i turn it on all will be well and it – personifying it, of course – will have forgotten its troubles and will simply get back to work.
in truth, i haven’t tried that yet.
i’m not anxious or excited about the outcome. well, to be fair, i am anxious, just not excited. i – listing heavily to optimistic – am hoping against hope that it will turn on and remember everything that would otherwise be lost. anxious. yes.
and so, in the meanwhile, i am typing on a mini ipad and trying to find creative ways to do what it is we do. so a little redundancy will have to work.
we have classic stuff.
our three vehicles (littlebabyscion, big red and my vw superbeetle) add up to 97 years old. my iphone is a 6, from the dark ages of 2016. this ipad is a mini2, only five years old but way past retiring. our tv is a non-smart late teen. it is as it is. and we totally make the best of it. not complaining, nope, nope.
i just know – in the middle of these workarounds – that there are those of you out there who get it. i wonder what it would be like to never have to figure things out, to never have to make it work, to never have to stand where you are and just be grateful and not wanting of more.
when i wash my hair today and tip the bottle, slapping the bottom of it over and over to get the last vestiges of shampoo out, i will think of my sweet momma and – apparently – kamala’s as well.
i’m thinking beaky and shyamala are visiting together on some other plane, maybe having sweet tea and, though they know we have plenty to complain about, watching us all dooo something – the best we can. and that, my dear friends, is classic.
“i go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” (john burroughs)
to draw a paddle through silky water, to listen to the call and response of the loons, to feel the breeze off the lake and to catch the first and last glimmers of sun rising and dropping through the trees…it is completely unremarkable to say this is soothing, that these moments are healing. it is unremarkable because it is obvious, because these are so remarkable – each – and because our senses rise to these offers of peacefulness, to these opportunities for rejuvenation…every time.
we have viewed each night of the democratic national convention. the joy, the energy, the hope – they are palpable. to say that our nation needs all this is an unremarkable statement, because – of course – it is obvious. we need joy. we need energy. we need hope. we need this kind of light. we need to be soothed and healed. and we need our sense put in order.
it should be unremarkable to have – to own – this kind of hope and light and joy in this country. it should be a given. this is supposed to be the fruitful land of opportunity, a place of freedoms, a nation where – with goodness our north star – we may be who we are. and, when our senses are put in order, we remember this…each and every one of us.
when we are in chaos, when there are those wreaking ugly havoc, when division and mean-spiritedness are being stoked, when soothing and healing is far from the minds of those who wish to be leaders, it is a time we must rejuvenate our country. we must move forward, not back. we must seek the best in each other, aspire for unity, clutch onto fervent hope with all we’ve got, put our faces to the sun and get sensical.
because it should be obvious in these united states of america that democracy and freedom are the only choice, that kindness and loving one another is the way of life, that equality and acceptance and inclusion are undeterred, that sense – real sense – is in order. and that – in all its brilliant remarkableness – pointing out that those are fundamental to these united states of america is completely unremarkable. because it is obvious. because it is the way.
we drew the paddles of the canoe through the glassy water, exploring the crannies and coves of the lake. to say we were soothed, healed – even momentarily – from worries pummeling our minds, that we were able to return to our senses would be an unremarkable statement. obviously we were.
living in this country – as a place where peace and freedom and forward movement and opportunity and goodness toward each other abounds – should be as obvious.
please vote with your senses and sense in order. let us promise a soothing, healing, joyful, intelligent, abundant future to all who come behind us.
we planned on being home to write this post. but littlebabyscion had different plans. so we are up-north and biding time to leave and journey home – a little later than we expected – so that we may be reassured by our friends’ presence following on the road behind us. we feel fortunate to have this support system. in the way i personify littlebabyscion, i’m guessing littlebabyscion feels slightly less stressed, a little less pressure knowing we won’t be alone. and we feel a little less stressed, a little less pressure with the gift of needed extra time from our 20, watching our home and our beloved dogga.
last night was the beginning of the democratic national convention in chicago. we all gathered in the cabin to watch it on tv together. the energy was palpable, the hope surging. we passed the tissue box around…each of us having emotional moments during the first night speeches.
freedom. democracy.
we’re not going back.
for the people.
USA.
together.
it’s the same messages as having your friends follow behind you as you limp home. only it’s on a national level. your brother’s/sister’s keeper…for one another…working together…
there is not anything i can imagine that would be better than an entire nation of people caring for one another, working together, solicitous, generous, kind.
i would hope that each person – responsible for their own vote – their own “prayer for the world we desire for ourselves and for our children” (sen. raphael warnock) would immerse themselves in real information, in the real character and integrity of what they wish for the future.
our lives are finite. we get this one go-around. to be surrounded by family and friends, a community, a country of people who care about the quality of that life, who lift each other up, who lead with kindness would seem to be infinitely more desirable than to be dragged down in ugly negativity, in a country divided, in a place where freedom-for-all has been decimated.
my prayer – as you are considering your vote – is to consider all the people.
do you want to be buoyed, to be held and cared about in this one life by a support system – people you know and people you don’t know – and to buoy others, to care and share with those whohave less, to live in a nation that values each and every person?
if littlebabyscion – this tiny vehicle which has safely carried me 276,000 miles – this little xb that will require us to stop every hour or less on the many-hours drive home to add coolant – this gigantic piece in my own story – could vote? i would bet it would vote for together.
because, really, everything takes a village. even getting home.
i had never been in a butterfly house before. the chicago botanic garden has such an exhibit right now and we saved it until last – after all the beautiful gardens and fresh air had zenned us out. if it is possible to sink further into zen than being enfolded in gloriously intentional blooming, this butterfly garden is it.
it isn’t a huge screen enclosure – and they allow limited people in at a time – but it is complete immersion in the magical. enchanting. for two artists who draw inspiration from the outdoors and its gorgeousness, we felt like we could have stayed there for hours.
butterflies were literally everywhere…on the plants, on the screen, on the path and – most delightfully – on us. the first moment a butterfly landed on us felt like you had been chosen for something uniquely special – this fragile creature with wings of scales and chitin (a fibrous protein) supported by a system of veins. nature, indeed. how is this kind of iridescence even possible?
only one other time – that i can remember – did a butterfly land on me. it was shortly after my big brother died and, as this butterfly flitted around me out front in an adirondack chair, i was convinced he was sending me a message. until it landed on me and hung out. then i was sure it was my brother, having converted his life energy temporarily into that of a butterfly. i was astounded and ever so grateful.
this time i was just in complete awe. i felt chosen as a few butterflies lighted on my hands or my arms, one at a time. i spoke quietly to each of them, thanking them for this incredible moment in time…a moment when i was reminded that we are all – butterflies and people – on this good earth together. we are all doing life the very best we can. we are all capable of gorgeous and of making another feel singled out and exceptional.
butterflies in this sanctuary just have to fly around and then land, their visit a thing of softness…a mica moment.
we – as people – can also lift someone, transport them into nirvana … in so many ways. we need remember that. our goodness is not winged, but – with our loving encouragement – others may fly. it’s all pure magic.
three words stand out: weathered beauty. revered. a sign in the japanese garden section of the chicago botanic garden.
we walked around the 500 or so booths of the outdoor antique show held at the neighboring county fairgrounds. and we were drawn to the same kind of items, again and again. we are pretty consistent. we list to the things that are weathered.
it’s the tall peeling column we’d place in our living room somewhere near the peeling paint chunk of concrete that holds our iPod. it’s the galvanized metal work light on a tripod that would serve for reading in our sitting room somewhere near the old farm table, bits of barnwood showing through its white paint. it’s the old white porcelain coffee pot that would sit with the metal coffee pots on the shelf in our kitchen holding teabags. it’s the collection of glass doorknobs like every doorknob in our own home. we hold these things in esteem not because they are perfect, but because of their stories, because they are weathered, because they have patina, because they are real.
“you become. it takes a long time. that’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. but these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” (the velveteen rabbit – margery williams)
in these times, it would seem that Real would count most, regardless of age or stage or any other categorizing of any sort at all. it would seem – in particular – that it be most important that we choose people around us who have become Real, who are Real. it would seem obvious – absolutely and entirely obvious – that is where truth is found, where respect is valued, where perspective is honed, where conversation is possible, where progress has potential.
we need be mindful of what we revere, of whom we revere, for there is much pretending, much misinformation and misrepresentation, much that is truly Ugly in this world. Real is sometimes difficult to discern and aligning with Real can make one vulnerable to the scorn of others.
but Real is, well, real.
“once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. it lasts for always.”
in this time – the lull – we will immerse in each moment. we will not tarry in angst nor indulge in everyday worries. we will step back from all of it. we will try to quiet our minds. we will simply be in it.
it’s like a pause. only not. because we are not paused; we are breathing and moving and appreciating – all in gratitude, intentionally slower, intentionally sans complexity, intentionally sans discord.
soon enough, there will be lists of things to do, to sort, to attend to, to concern ourselves with. things to decide, things for which we need muster courage or fortitude.
but for right now, for this bit of time, there is only the lull.
in so many ways – from up-close-and-personal to nationwide – this is a post of the moment.
“you are magic and not everyone can handle magic. some people are accustomed to mediocre. they run from magic. let them run…” (unknown)
people who have immersed themselves in mediocrity, who are threatened by anything bright with joy, who are afraid to step outside dark dullsville, who cling to their own agendas for power…these people will run from magic. and – i now agree – let them.
for you are not going to change someone’s mind who is a mediocrity-mongrel. he or she will clutch their good-enough expectations and will relish lack of abundant growth – for that is safer for them. they will purport to be interested in ‘the community ‘ – whether that be this nation or a closer-in community – and they will ultimately suffocate it.
magic is out there. it is people giving their all in service to each other. it is gorgeous and limitless. it is a gift. it – in the way that fireworks light up the sky – lights up other people, sparking pilot lights everywhere, spreading excitement in concentric circles wider and wider.
magic is the exhale of joy. it is the call and response of people – dedicated to one another and to thriving.
so in answer to this devotedness to less-than, this rejection of light, this dogged constancy in drudgery, in ugly, this resolve to quash the flourishing of all… i’d just say this:
let them run, those who can’t handle magic, those accustomed to mediocre. let them excise you in their zeal for the mundane. it is likely you will not miss them.
it made third and fourth grade recess tough. i would be outside on the playground with my little group of girlfriends and – all of a sudden – there would be this incoming-bully, chasing after me as i ran my heart out to get away. he was faster and dedicated to his mission of twisting my wrist, so he would always catch me. he never really got in trouble, though. i wonder how that has carried him through his life. i suspect he is still a bully, only now uses words or actions that don’t involve twisted wrists (at least not in the literal sense.)
we just got off a call with a dear friend out of state. we played ukuleles and sang together over a zoom call. we chatted. and it was a joy. the thing we most agreed on was the fact that there is not enough time as it is in life to be anything but joyous. we don’t have time for ugly.
truly, none of us has time for ugly. the bullying and name-calling and undermining and hurtful harm stuff is the stuff of third grade – a period when the whole world is stretching out in front of you and you have no true concept of time’s limitations. it is closer to adulthood – and, certainly most definitely in adulthood, i would think – that we become aware of our mortality, the fragility of this life, the gift of being present on this good earth. and – with that all in mind – who’s got time for ugly?
david asked me if tommy remained my friend. i answered honestly. he did not. i no longer trusted him – his bullying was tormenting and mean-spirited. and there is no reason why i would want to be friends with anyone who would treat me that way. there is no reason why i would want anyone to treat people that way. anyone at all.
bullies have no place in a reasonable, compassionate society. they have no place in the public eye. they have no place in leadership.
we all don’t have enough time for them or their ugly.
in the same way that the bamboo along the lakeshore is suggestive of a tropical clime, so is this red banana tree. it sort of creates a different reality, for this is wisconsin and – though this summer here might be leaning in a tropical (temperature and humidity) sort of way – it is still wisconsin, after all. we are not known for our beach tiki huts or crowded sandy beaches at spring break. this is the north. and, truth be told, i – in the midst of whatever this thermostat-malfunction-post-menopausal-too-hot thing is – am grateful. but a walk in the very beautiful downtown eichelman park gardens and you will be transported, surrounded by huge tropical leaves, plants dwarfing you. really stunning. they have created a different reality, at least temporarily.
it is the same way that entrepreneurs initiate and grow buzz around a new product or service. one must convince buyers that the offered product is far better than another, that it is superior in value, that it creates a different reality for the consumer. but it’s all made up. it’s just marketing.
when you own a recording label, you are tasked with developing the trajectory of an artist. in my case, that was me. so, with the help of a small amazing staff of dear ones, it was our job to create the bubble – to buzz the albums, to work retail accounts, to attend to radio play, to book concerts and events and stages, to grow, grow, grow. the one thing i refused to do was exaggerate – to get in over my head – to represent myself as something i wasn’t. i didn’t pretend to be part of a giant label or a different genre, for i was proud of my grassroot roots, of the music i created. i was content to take the turtle’s pace and to be sure to actually get where i was going and not be waylaid by fast rabbits offering shortcuts (always exacting a price, never wholesome).
so i find it particularly offensive – no, repugnant – to look at the bombastic campaigning – marketing – that is a part of the maga party. their desire to create an alternate reality in which america is great again is an unfathomable falsehood of gigantic proportion. they are not waylaid by any conscience to the underpinnings of democracy nor do they feel bound by the parameters of truth-telling. the future plans of project 2025 and agenda 47 are parallel and real – dangerous – and we can all read their intentions, though i would point out that there is this as well: we don’t know what we don’t know, what we can’t easily read or find – or even imagine – about their suffocating plans to take america to the place they call great.
what we do know is that america is not great going backwards. america is not great thwarting freedoms of all. america is not great divisive, a place where peace does not exist. america is not great full of rage. it is extraordinarily repulsive to watch the bigoted, bullying, incoherent, rage-filled ramblings of this maga candidate, yet they are wrapping believers – everyday people – in a bubbles-and-rainbows-reality they tout…a reality that will implode on them – the everyday people – should he be elected.
in september we will walk at the gardens by the lake. because it will likely still be warm – temperature-wise – the red banana tree leaves will still likely be towering over us.
in october we will walk at the gardens by the lake. it may be a bit chillier by then. and, depending on the parks department and scheduling of available staff, the red banana trees may still be there, standing tall.
in november we will walk at the gardens by the lake. all the flowers and banana leaves will be gone. the soil will be turned over and ready for whatever is next – in the spring of 2025.
when the alternate reality is gone and the dust settles, what really remains? is it rich soil or is it just filthy dirt?
we walk in democracy in september, in october and a few days in november. as we vote on november 5 we need to choose what we wish to remain in the garden. what reality truly is. what reality we truly want.
eichelman park is not meant to be the tropics.
the united states of america is not meant to be a fascist autocracy.
for years i wore a yellow livestrong bracelet on my wrist. it was a small way of saying to the world that i – like millions of others – was part of wanting to raise awareness and generate support for cancer survivors.
i wore it through many years of performances at oncology and survivor events across the nation, through losing a dear friend to cancer, through scares i personally had. i’m pretty sure i had it on when heidi and i worked with lance armstrong and the tour of hope and i had it on the day my big brother had been gone fifteen years. i had it on when i recorded the bonus tracks i am alive and you make a difference for my as sure as the sun album. somewhere along the way, i stopped wearing one but i saved the last one i wore. my support did not stop.
these bracelets raised over $100 million and, with that, the livestrong foundation “unites, inspires and empowers people affected by cancer. [the foundation] provides free cancer support services to anyone facing cancer today.” the current president and ceo of livestrong has said that there are still sales of over 30,000 bracelets a year, so it is clear that this simple rubber bracelet – launched in 2004 – has been a long-term icon of cancer support.
i’d venture to say: goodness makes people step up.
which is why it is of particular note – as i am writing this ahead – on sunday – merely two weeks since joe biden sacrificed his re-election campaign for this country and, subsequently, endorsed the campaign of kamala harris – that in these very last two weeks her campaign has generated $310 million – an extraordinary amount. “two-thirds of the july total came from first-time donors, and a majority of the total was raised from donations of $200 or less,” the campaign said. goodness makes people step up.
i read that former president jimmy carter – an icon of benevolence – turns 100 in october. his centennial birthday is not his biggest goal. voting for the first woman president and for the upholding of democracy is his north star, is keeping him going, is exciting him, even in these late days of his life. goodness makes people step up.
we read and research, watch videos and listen to podcasts. we – in our own zeal to maintain the true democracy of these united states – wish to be able to do something, to make a difference. it was in one of many op ed pieces we in which we immersed, we heard the best advice about that: do what you do. do what you are good at. (not verbatim)
and so, we write. it’s what we do. it’s the thing we know to do. we write and write and write.
there may be days you disagree with one of us, with both of us. and that’s ok. that’s what it means to live in a democracy – you get to have your opinion.
but it is our hope – our fervent hope – that, like us, if what you read disturbs you, that you follow it…you do the research…ask questions…search your heart and soul. it is our hope that the popularity of the angerwagon does not tease you into passivity, does not step on the goodness that we know is in you. it is our hope – and we will repeat this over and over and over – that you really look at what it is you wish for…really, truly wish for…for you, your family, your grandchildren, your extended family, your friends, your community, this country…and evaluate – clearheadedly and grounded in truth – what it is you will vote for.
because goodness makes people step up.
“there is no greatness where there is no simplicity, goodness and truth.”(leo tolstoy)
reverse threading 