as we drove north we talked about these blogs. i pretty much know that nothing i might write – or ponder – or rant about – will change what is happening in this country right now. i write anyway.
i am typing this blog post ahead – at the very moment that the u.s. house minority leader is speaking on the floor before a final vote is taken on the big __ bill.
and i truly want to cry.
because even the briefest scroll through social media today reveals a country being led by an administration rife with cruelty and it takes my breath away. i just cannot wrap my head around this – in 2025. i barely know what to say.
we had decided to go on a much-needed get-away-from-all-of-it date with each other and drove to walkers point in milwaukee where there is a spanish bistro that has sangria and tapas for happy hour. it was an early evening, but the tapas are $1, $3 and $5 and, as we ordered three to share, we knew that could fit in the budget we had saved for these moments.
because the moment we were in was overwhelming and last night’s date out – requiring an hour drive to and fro and some time on barstools talking – really talking about real stuff – with a young man bar-and-soul-tending was a reminder to stay in the here and now (at least for here and now).
i’m going to go out on a limb and guess that the bill – with the knee-bending, capitulating, hate-perpetuating, sycophantic incentive not to piss off their madman prez – is going to pass. [which – as an addendum – it did.] and the cruelty and inhumane treatment of real-life people will not only continue, but will escalate exponentially. the absolute cowardice of those who are supposed to be representing the needs and wishes of their constituents – the american people – is beyond appalling. i barely know what to say.
and then – in moments of their glee and gilded-golden-glory – in the sad moments of watching the cheer squad justify and cheer – in the aftermath of hope hobbled by hatred and greed – this beaten-up country will stagger into tomorrow, tears streaming down its face as its e-pluribus-unum heart shatters into a million pieces.
“hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.” (anne lamott)
and so, one step at a time – though the path is rugged and the way is not clear – we keep hoping. and trudging. toward the light.
each day, after my brain clears from the fog of sleeping, i remember. each morning i am stunned back into awakeness. today was no different.
i woke up and – after i remembered – i thought about five months ago. it feels like an eternity. and yet here we are. in the middle of a coalescence of horrific.
and, even after millions of americans marched and protested in the streets of this nation, we are still here – at the precipice of autocracy.
and i wonder what will pierce the darkness that is descending upon a land so bright with potential. i wonder what will actually stop the brutality, the cruelty, the apathy, the greed. i wonder at all the people showing up, trying to do the right thing, all the people waiting for the dawn.
when my children were little i did not let them use the word ‘hate’. i also tried – best as i could – to not allow them to say ‘shut up’. big issues at the time.
i look at the children of today – listening to or watching the current administration of this nation – and shudder to think of what kind of clean-up one must do as a parent to explain away the horribleness of the vile messaging of this regime, what kind of debriefing one must do as a parent to help children process the atrocities they are witnessing, what kind of protection one must resort to as a parent to shield children from the hatred spewing into the air of this country.
it makes saying ‘shut up’ seem like child’s play. particularly in a country where lies and false narrative abound, where rights are being stripped from the populace, where sadistic, escalating violence is being blatantly encouraged, where i’m certain many of us – the stubborn hopeseekers – would love to just scream “shut up!!!” every time the wanna-be-dictator opens his mouth.
gobsmacked is weak. astonished makes it sound like something glorious. horrified is more like it.
i cannot wrap my head around the fact that half this country is supporting THAT candidate – a xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, authoritarian-praising, fascism-seeking criminal who cares not an iota about anything other than his own power. i cannot wrap my head around the fact that half this country is THAT ugly.
and what’s worse – it is because they are not thinking, they are not researching, they are not asking questions, they are not reasoning. they are merely believing what they are fed – hook, line and sinker. and they are flat-screening their ugly positions on social media, garnering likes and strokes – because they have forgotten what real community is, who real people are. the flat-screen has taken the place of real interaction, real communication, going to real places, doing real things, real life. the clique of people who would “un-friend” them in a millisecond – who are only on board the bandwagon with them for the same likes and strokes and hate-mongering – have become more important than real-live people. and they can’t see it.
were they to remember what real community is, they would be concerned with what would surely be the annihilation of women’s rights, the rights of the LGBTQ community, the rights of every non-white, the rights of humans under the constitution of the united states.
were they to remember what real community is, they would not substitute real-live people with flatland. rather, they would stand with real three-dimensional people in their three-dimensional family, in their three-dimensional friend-group, in their three-dimensional town, their three-dimensional state, their three-dimensional country.
were they to remember what real community is, they would not bury their faces in the screens and tvs that amplify that which feeds their clearly deep-seated hatred but which does not avail them of the facts, the danger, the intentions of this maga candidate. they would not abdicate their ability to seek the truth, to reason, languishing instead in the glory of maga popularity.
were they to remember what real community is, they would take to task this party which is undermining their personal communities, they would pay attention to how this destruction of democracy will actually affect their lives and the lives of those who follow after them.
were they to remember what real community is, they would choose love over hatred, forward-thinking over going backwards, together over divided. they would drag their faces out of their flat screens, away from their flat-friends, wrap their arms around the targets of this brutally unhinged candidate and tell them that they truly care about them, that we are all here to lift each other up.
but they don’t remember anymore. and they don’t think. and they clearly don’t care.
or do they?
i find that utterly terrifying.
this is a three-dimensional world with three-dimensional repercussions of your vote.
sometime between 300 and 1300 c.e. there were people in this south central utah area who wanted to tell a story, to preserve it. their narrative – told in petroglyphs – was about their daily living – their families, livestock, wildlife they hunted. it was a narrative of living in community. it is astounding to witness the carved chiseling of so long ago, humbling to imagine living in such a harsh, difficult environment. you can feel a pull from the earth as you stand there – something that binds you to those moments so many centuries before. you gaze at these figures and are struck by the humanness of this history – despite absolutely different living conditions, we all simply wish to tell a narrative of our living.
the petroglyphs we were fortunate to see at capitol reef did not depict fighting. they did not depict division nor hatred. they did not depict power or control struggles. they did not depict what would certainly be pictured as part of petroglyphs were there to be some telling the tale of right now.
in absolute embarrassment about how low this country’s people have sunk – the inability to hold democracy and freedom-of-all-to-live as essentials – the spewing hatred and vitriol – i cannot imagine what story petroglyphs etched into big red rock canyon walls now would tell – later.
covid has given us some free time. in-between moments of feeling absolutely horrendous, we have succumbed to reading articles, scrolling the news. it is utterly disturbing.
i want to scream, “this is not about you!!!” to people caught up in the despicable hate, in the misinformation, the disinformation, the conspiracies. i want to beg people to consider the future of this country’s democracy, the future beyond their own lives, to vote for something hopeful. i want to ask people to just stop, listen, think, consider.
i do not recognize you – you, who are supporting the heinous intentions of the maga-party. i do not recognize you – you, who are turning a blind eye to people in your midst who you claim to care about or even love – as you sign on to extreme changes of freedoms in these un-united states. this is not a difference in policy-embracing; this is a deeply undermined philosophical difference on humanity. i do not recognize your heart, turned so very angry, exclusionary, cold. and, in turn, my heart is broken, seeing this, seeing you – now.
but i know the power of rhetoric, the sheer toxic force of those who lie. i have experienced being the subject of warped narrative, of agenda-riddled powermongers. and in my tiny subset of experience, i have seen people – who i never would have expected – support the lies, push the ugly agenda, fight to win. but it is in their winning that they truly lost. and i believe they know that.
if there were to be petroglyphs or pictographs on red rock canyon walls telling our story – the story of we-the-people of these times – what would we wish them to depict?
it boils down to a pretty basic question.
is it a story of community? or a story of devastating division and hate?
“…so keep your heart open – cause love will find a way…”
(love will find a way – pablo cruise)
these are hard times. we are all – undoubtedly – struggling to keep our hearts open. we are all – undoubtedly – trying to believe that love will find a way. somehow. some way.
“…and when you feel afraid, love one another
when you’ve lost your way, love one another
when you’re all alone, love one another
when you’re far from home, love one another
when you’re down and out, love one another
all your hope’s run out, love one another
when you need a friend, love one another
when you’re near the end, love
we got to love, we got to love one another…”
(love is the answer – john wilcox, kasim sulton, roger powell, todd rundgren songwriters – england dan & john ford coley recording)
these are hard times. we are all – undoubtedly – struggling to keep our hearts open. we are all – undoubtedly – trying to believe that love will find a way. somehow. some way.
“…when you’re down and out, there seems no hope at all
but if you just believe there’s no way we can fall
well, let us realize
that a change can only come
when we stand together as one…
…and the truth, you know, love is all we need…”
(we are the world – lionel richie/michael jackson)
these are hard times. we are all – undoubtedly – struggling to keep our hearts open. we are all – undoubtedly – trying to believe that love will find a way. somehow. some way.
“have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”
(maya angelou)
these are hard times. we are all – undoubtedly – struggling to keep our hearts open. we are all – undoubtedly – trying to believe that love will find a way. somehow. some way.
“i have decided to stick with love, for i know that love is ultimately the only answer to humankind’s problems. and i’m going to talk about it everywhere i go. i know it isn’t popular to talk about it in some circles today. and i’m not talking about emotional bosh when i talk about love; i’m talking about a strong, demanding love. for i have seen too much hate. […] and i say to myself that hate is too great a burden to bear. i have decided to love.”
(where do we go from here? – martin luther king, jr)
hard times. somehow. some way.
“…so keep your heart open – cause love will find a way…”
when i was in sunday school – decades ago – we sang a song with these lyrics: “love, love, love. that’s what it’s all about. cause god loves us, we love each other. mother, father, sister, brother. everybody sing and shout. cause that’s what it’s all about. it’s about love, love, love. it’s about love, love, love.”
and then, somewhere along the way, it seems that the rules changed. and suddenly, it wasn’t all about love. it – on the contrary – became about the parameters put on love. it became about who people identify as and who people love. it became about valuing only male-female love. it became about quashing people’s gender identification. it became about ancient, close-minded, patriarchal interpretations. it became about bigotry. and the sunday school song takes on a different meaning.
but we know that nothing immensely beautiful, nothing meaningful or of import has come from limitations. it is not the ostrich with its head in the sand who can feel the dawn of a new day on its face. it is not the people who do no true research, who do not ask questions, who do not ponder the possible; these same folks who, if they instead would have respectful consideration of others, could find that we all can be spokes-living-better-together.
one of the things i really loved about my sweet momma was her willingness – her desire – to learn new things. even in her nineties, she tried to stay current, to stay informed. if she didn’t understand something, she’d ask questions or she’d look it up. she stayed open, non-judgemental. she hoped for happiness, love, freedom, peace for everyone – despite their race, ethnicity, gender identity, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status. she did not make broad sweeping statements dissing any group of people. she held onto her belief that everyone deserves “to thine own self be true”. i’m guessing she would agree with ruth bader ginsburg, “we will all profit from a more diverse, inclusive society, understanding, accommodating, even celebrating our differences, while pulling together for the common good.”
the day my beloved son came out to me, i rejoiced in his freedom. all i really wanted for him – that day and every day since – was to love and be loved by his partner, working together with mutual respect, loyalty, understanding, generosity, admiration, affection, support. it is the same for my beloved daughter in her love relationships. i merely birthed them and then, in the briefest time that flew by, they became adults, out in the world. and with them, they took the knowledge that they had freedom to be who they are, knowing – without a doubt – i love them.
i can’t imagine poking at a group of people – including, and particularly, an all-embracing LGBTQIA+ community of beautiful people. lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual: their individual and precious lives are not mine to live, nor mine to decide, nor mine to undermine.
we are the same. remember the sunday school song? or are there limitations to these lyrics? in what faith is love not love?
we purchased a new yard sign. half of the proceeds go to PRIDE.
well, maybe i can make one exception: when driving and faced with a dead-end corner and a one-way street. one way.
otherwise? not so much.
the headline read, “florida isn’t the only state pushing legislation that could be harmful to LGBTQ students.” there’s also idaho, georgia, iowa, tennessee and oklahoma. not to forget texas and whatever other states have jumped on the bigotwagon since this headline. what?! apparently, these are states in which leadership has decided there’s just one way. and it’s theirs.
as the proud mother of a gay man, i have to wholeheartedly disagree with these folks. any idea of “normal” that they have conjured up is a warped righteous positioning of power and control, some sort of strange arc into absolutism. it does make one wonder about the possibility of people who need to compensate for something in their own lives. it is astonishingly arrogant, haughtily heartless, cruelly uncaring, blindingly bigoted, disgustingly discriminatory, and sickeningly small-minded in the most prejudiced of ways.
i’m guessing, then, that these same huffy lawmakin’ folks are sittin’ around makin’ it their business to raise questions about people, ponder others’ sexuality or gender, disparage people who identify differently than they do. they are wringing their hands and plotting how to silence them, to marginalize them. because their one-way is the only way and lives that may be richly influential, steeped in open-mindedness and the embrace and love of all humankind should be silenced and marginalized.
“now i can be really vicious,” the loving and enthused words of the [impeached] president of the united states at a rally saturday evening.
“vicious” is not a word you would associate with the behavior of the leader of the free world. “vicious” is not a word used by empathetic, compassionate, caring presidents about how they plan to treat their populace. “vicious” is not a word used in fair, properly and factually prepared, carefully articulated, mature campaigns. “vicious” is not an adjective used by politicians who are trying to unite, to heal, to raise awareness of inequalities, to thoughtfully bring health back to a nation, suffering from layers of dis-ease.
no. let’s face it: “vicious” is not even a descriptor used about dogs you want to be around.
and yet, there are people screaming for more at these rallies. there are people screaming on facebook, on twitter, on message boards, on signs, from stages and pulpits and country club dining rooms and the house-of-white. “vicious.”
where do we go from here? this president has given gross permission for people to be as base as possible, as vulgar as possible, as nasty as possible, as deceitful as possible, as mercilessly unremorseful as possible. he has conquered the heightened epitome of divisiveness, the “no” in no-moral-compass and has created seemingly insurmountable animosity in a country now brewing unrest between its citizens, its families, its friends, its colleagues, its communities, its states, its every-category.
“american decline” was graffitied across the bottom of a freight train. we sat and watched the cars go by, the xb in park just in front of the tracks. it was a long train, car after car, coal hopper after coal hopper, tank car after tank car, stunning graffiti on pretty much each one. it went by too fast to grab a phone to take a picture, but there it was – american decline – spray-painted across the bottom of the car. we read it aloud and then sat quietly.
what is there to say?
“at no time before has there been a clearer choice between two parties or two visions, two philosophies, two agendas for the future. there’s never been anything like this,” read this president at his narcissistic-ego-stroking-power-quenching-non-masked-socially-close-up-and-personal-maga-hat-wearing-rabid-fist-pumping-non-fact-checking-fear-mongering-descent-into-delusion-via-hook-line-and-sinker rally, a rally with an appalling lack of regard for the 194,000 people who have died of the pandemic that still rages across this country…the same pandemic he knew about in february and brutally lied to the public about. the same pandemic that has ravaged the lives of over 6.5 million families: their health, their work, their homes, their security, their futures.
there has never been anything like this. how true is that. it’s vicious.
two people in a facebook thread LAUGHED (with the convenient use of laughing emojis) at a post i wrote responding to someone’s perception that there wasn’t a lot of peace and love going on in my town and to a comment about kenosha and what “BLM and rioters have done to beautiful cities” and that “denying that it exists [wouldn’t] make it go away.” i was sincere and fervently hopeful, while recognizing realities:
“here, with a house full of smoke from the fires, within hearing distance of the militia shots in the street. we could hear the blasts of tear gas, the yelling and chanting. we had a visceral front seat. but we also see many, many, many people coming together to try to address a long-standing (forever) problem of this nation. denying systemic racism exists will not make it go away. it is incredibly sad that conversation has to be aggressive and pointed, rather than generative and mindfully intentional. cities can be rebuilt, but lives are lost forever. i don’t want to live in a city that looks beautiful and is ugly underneath.”
and they laughed. LAUGHED. i had to step away to catch my breath before i could respond. what is becoming of human decency these days?
yes. kenosha painted boarded-up windows and painted over graffiti of negative messaging. yes. because, connectivity and love are the beginning. and reminders of those can only help. each positive message – in a city boarded up and burned and looted – reminds us of the most basic of emotions: LOVE. each positive message reminds us – as we walk about in this raw wound – that we are incomplete, we are flawed and we have much work to do. we need listen to each other, without overtalking. we need speak, without animosity. we need respect, without exception. we need conversation. we need connection. each positive message reminds us that hope exists, even in the tiniest brush of paint on wooden board.
this is a time of division, to be sure. day after day i am confronted with this reality and with peoples’ brazen attempts to undermine relationship with rhetoric and falsehoods, misplaced loyalties and inaccurate assumptions, and, worse yet, words of aggressive animosity and actual hatred. i wonder what the fallout will be. will the silken gossamer threads of connection sustain? will empathy fall by the wayside? will love of humanity – in all its shapes and sizes, genders, races, ethnicities, socioeconomic positions, religious affiliations – all its anythings – prevail?
“we live between the act of awakening and the act of surrender.” (john o’donohue) the question is always, every single day, how will we live? how will we spend that time? who will we be?
realizing the vast array of wise words that would also be appropriate alongside photographs we’ve taken in kenosha, i chose to post these words of dr. martin luther king jr., “darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” and i added this in answer to derisive comments about protestors:
“one of the foremost protestors in this land was dr. martin luther king jr. the thousands of people who walked in peaceful protest here, even drove and marched right by our house, were walking in that spirit. there have been rioters and looters in each city of unrest. they are spurred on by the vitriol and angry words of the current president, who seems to revel in discord and chaos. the fact is, the vast majority of people who are protesting in this nation are protesting in peace. just like in kenosha. this nation needs equality – the only way to get there is to listen to those who speak, listen to those who protest. their words count.”
and then, in a fine example of what conversation has defaulted to, i was called a “cupcake”, a “snowflake” and “infantile”. wow. i beg your pardon.
“while some will see the pied piper and his power as the devil, an evil entity that lures innocents away to their death, other interpretations see something entirely different: a christ-like savior.” (aimee h)
and there we have it.
this country has its very own pied piper. and in no way can this be a good thing.
“the term “pied piper”: … someone who, by means of personal charm, entices people to follow him or her, usually to disappointment or misfortune.” (maeve maddox)
without evidence nor using factual information, as is his unfortunate and biased practice, back in the early stages of this pandemic, the president of this country belittled others for wearing masks, and did not publicly himself wear a mask until mid-july, despite his presence in public places amongst citizens of this country deserving of respect and safety. his failure to make mask-wearing a national mandate in those earliest days of disease undermined the efforts of pandemic-fighters-treaters-sufferers across the country.
thus set the stage.
he pied-pipered his way all over fox news and media-biased outlets; he tooted his pipe into conspiracy theories, never taking responsibility for the safety of his populace. instead he led millions of people over the cliff and almost 190,000 people into death, simply by denying the very thing that could have minimized loss: a mask.
wearing a simple piece of cloth across your nose and mouth seems a small price to pay for a significant amount of safer passage through this time of pandemic. so it seems ludicrous and disgusting to go to the local grocery store and watch people arrogantly walk about with their masks firmly planted around their chins, just begging for someone to ask them to wear it properly. yes. the declining vigilance of the public.
the pied piper’s acolytes are everywhere and his followers are marching, goose-stepping toward what? the story of the pied piper relates that the followers – in the piper’s return to the village – were children and that those “children died of some natural causes such as disease or starvation and that the piper was a symbolic figure of death.” in easy metaphor, our very own piper, without evidence, has distilled the importance of masks to the point of dangerous disregard, pitting side against side, blather against facts, non-actions against actions, subjugating the very economy to disaster, costing jobs, homes, safety, the feeding of families, and has led this country to the brink of death.
is it his personal charm? i think not. the anger he has unleashed, the lack of moral compass, the lies, the rhetoric, the violence…his pipe-tooting seems limitless. instead of unity he chooses division. instead of health he chooses disease. instead of love he chooses hatred.
the pied piper, a self-described rat-catcher, piped to eradicate a poor town from an infestation of rats. ahhh. the metaphor continues. for, tucked into his own house-of-white, while tooting the ever-increasingly-ironic “draining of the swamp,” he and his minions have the best of the best pandemic tools and aids at their bidding. the 2000 people at the lawn rally bestowing accolades upon his every word and gesture have, likely, slightly fewer tools and aids. the millions of those watching fox news, tucked into living rooms across this country, have, likely, far fewer opportunities and far less resources to avoid or combat this coronavirus, this disease, this death.
but the one thing they could have? the one thing that is accessible to most anyone? the one thing that thousands of people sat in front of sewing machines making in the early part of this year, that are available most anywhere, from organizations or religious institutions or individual donors? the one thing that could have saved thousands of lives to date? the one thing that purportedly could still potentially save hundreds of thousands of lives?
masks.
please – vigilantly – wear a mask.
because the pied piper truly does not care if you live or die.
pied piper (noun): the hero of a german folk legend, popularized in the pied piper of hamelin (1842) by robert browning. a person who induces others to follow or imitate him or her, especially by means of false or extravagant promises.
reverse threading 