built from a couple planks of old barn wood and some galvanized pipe, its possibilities were endless. tucked into a corner of the backyard, cozied up between the edge of the deck and the fence, every day this mighty garden called my name.
not so mighty in size, it was wildly enormous in delivering zen. with a pair of clippers in my hand and a watering wand waiting nearby, i spent hours through this summer tending this garden.
and it has rewarded us with jalapeños and cherry tomatoes, basil and mint and rosemary and cilantro and parsley. nothing you can’t purchase at a market, but there is something about growing right outside your kitchen, a few steps across the deck, through a wrought iron gate from the patio.
we continue to harvest from this potting stand. we’ll see it through to the last of the herbs, the last of the peppers and tomatoes, all the while planning a bit more for next year. success begets trying some new things. we planted in previous years – and there was a yield of herbs, a few tomatoes, a handful of peppers – but there was something a bit different about this year.
and this was the year we needed it.
somehow, the universe – in all its energy and light – knew that this was the time. a time for us to invest our own energy and attention into growing things. not just grasses or ferns or peonies or a few other flowers, but things that would nourish us, things that would connect the dots from dirt to our kitchen.
a gift of growing at a time when growth – real, human, throw-out-your-arms-and-hold-all-the-world-close growth – seems to be shunned, devalued, debased.
back in the day i spent a lot of time on the sidelines of soccer fields, baseball diamonds, basketball courts, tennis courts. under fleece blankets and roasting in the sun, i have listened to coaches coaching and parents of team members instruction-yelling. i have sat on bleachers and watched lessons and warmups and scrimmages and many, many games and tournaments and matches. i have attempted – poorly, i might add – my hand at golf and volleyball, tennis and ping-pong – some quite limited times – and have been instructed with good intention – but with little prowess for application.
the things that i have heard – over and over – and over and over – is to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on the ball.
it makes sense. not only will it help in balance, in appropriate contact with the ball, in prediction of the ball’s trajectory, it keeps you in the game. it’s essential.
in these times – in this country – it would seem the same: to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on the ball.
it also seems utterly impossible to do – if you are relying entirely on mainstream – legacy – media. for they, in many ways, have dropped the proverbial ball. they are languaging these days of chaos in milder terms than should be tolerated. they are minimizing and normalizing. it is leaving the reds in red-land where they are fed conspiracy after conspiracy, lie after lie. it is leaving the blues in blue-land where the words describing the actions and intentions of the current administration are sorely lacking in descriptors that even begin to touch the peril in which this country finds itself.
if the course of ten years ago – and since – hadn’t already brought us to the place of question-asking, fact-checking, source-locating, detail-expounding, independent-media-watching/reading/listening, the horror of these days would have pushed us there.
we have encountered many who would just rather not. rather not know, rather not talk about it, rather not deal with it, rather not.
we are simply keeping our eyes on the ball. it will help keep us in balance, in appropriate contact with the game, in prediction of the trajectory.
anything else is the behavior of wishful thinking, the behavior of ostriches, the behavior of people who don’t care what happens to this country, its laws, its land, or its people.
being an informed citizen is essential. let’s keep our eyes open.
the grocery store receipt reads $157. there is no meat on this bill. there is not much on this bill. we made a menu, made a list from the menu and shopped to the list. there may have been an exception or two: a 99 cent box of tissues and a loaf of bread that somehow didn’t make it onto the list. $157.
we are frugal. and we know that – when the ridiculous tariffs take effect – this $157 will be lots more.
on the way home we talked about how families are doing it. sans high wages and benefits covering health insurance, it seems like it would be impossible to exist. it is a world – this country – that is leaving the middle class behind, burying us all in costs, living expenses, debt. all imposed with a side of apathy and cruelty. my heart hurt for the man standing on the other side of the road with a sign asking for help.
it takes an instant to go from feeling shaky to feeling fortunate.
and being washed in gratitude is empowering.
we can make more with less, we agree. we can make meals that extend leftovers for days. we can ignore the frivolous and buy only the practical. and we can help.
the local food pantry/shelter has an easy-to-access list of needs on their website. it is clear. i called to make sure that something that was labeled as “urgent” was still considered urgent; we wanted to address that need the best we could.
driving away from the center after dropping multiples of their “urgent need” was a gift. it was a reminder of all the times someone has sensed an “urgent need” in us.
and sometimes, in those moments, somehow the white light of the universe enveloped us and someone stepped up to help.
we are all capable of being that white light. and – in these times of need, these times of people’s lives being beaten down and minimalized, these times dismissive of compassion and care – it would seem urgent – and incumbent upon us – to gather that light and pass it on.
growing up, we each had family doctors. general practitioners who saw us regularly for physicals as well as being available when there was a crisis point, a concern, an illness, an injury. when presented with such a thing (a physical crisis, a concern, an illness, an injury) one would call the doctor and they would “fit you in”, addressing your crisis/concern/illness/injury and sending you on your way. they were well-versed with you, your history, even your family history; distilling information to get to a diagnosis and treatment were aided by this consistent relationship.
not so much anymore.
david has a new pcp. his pcp moved and a new guy replaced him. we have no doubt that this new pcp has every good intention for his work in medicine.
david’s annual physical was booked with this new guy, who did all (and only – per insurance guidelines) the annual physical stuff (eyes, nose, throat, blood pressure, weight) and ordered the typical annual physical fasting lab work for the next day.
d fasted, had his bloodwork done, and checked on his livewell portal for the results.
and then the bill arrived.
suffice it to say i have made ten communications (phone, email, portal) to the dr’s office, the billing department, the insurance company to correct the bill we received which charged us for the labwork – preventative bloodwork – a standard in healthcare insurance 100% coverage (including d’s healthcare insurance).
alas…the healthcare provider coded his visit a “welcome visit”.
“ahhh,” i said to d. “so you dudes just sat around visiting, sipping a whiskey and shooting the breeze???”
he stared at me.
“your doctor’s office and billing department have coded your annual physical as a welcome visit. that sounds like visiting, a few appetizers, a whiskey, cutesy conversation….”
he shook his head.
after ten phone calls, emails, contacts through the portal – with the nurse at the doctor’s office calling billing to say (words to the effect) “oh no…this was david’s annual physical” – we have since received an insurance denial for the preventative lab tests and services and an updated bill from the healthcare provider that states we are overdue. so. cue up either the eleventh phone call or relinquish to the checkbook.
and now, as d has been bitten by some toxic something-or-other which has spread and swollen and looks mighty angry, this same healthcare service – his very own primary care physician’s office – has offered a possible appointment two weeks out.
two weeks.
i cannot help but wonder what toxins are in his system that are making his body react this way and what waiting two weeks might mean.
this, of course, pushes us to visit an urgent care or the emergency room, both already overburdened.
i’m not really sure how that helps the healthcare provider, but I’m guessing there is some way that a trip to urgent care/emergency room will net that umbrella healthcare provider a bit more billing, a tad more profit.
generations before us expected some kind of relationship with their doctor, their doctor’s office. the next generation after us is accustomed to using urgent care, telehealth, the emergency room. they don’t expect a relationship.
while we appreciate the presence of urgent care, the ER and telehealth, we are stuck in the middle generation – where we still think that relationship is part of healthcare, where we think consistency and the sharing of medical history over time are imperatives, where paying such exorbitant prices for insurance is supposed to ensure being insured.
but american healthcare is doing a good job of making us non-believers. it is truly a broken system – in a billion ways.
unconscionable that this country does such a poor job of taking care of its populace.
and – now – as we all know – at a time when health and care are going by the they-don’t-give-a-damn-about-health-or-care-of-the-people wayside – it will only get worse.
in this moment, in this time, despite all the challenges it has faced, it is facing, it will face, despite all it does not know, it persists – growing in the top rail of the fence that spans the river.
this tiny plant is grabbing on to life. and living it.
it was a spontaneous excursion – an unexpected morning a bit ago with no obligation. we got in the car early and drove down to the botanic garden.
as we came around the corner, d stopped and asked me to take a picture. the tree – shaped like a square – was something out of cartoonland. a filled-with-wonder dr. seuss and winnie the pooh mashup. this morning at the garden was definitely what we needed.
every step got slower. we paused and lingered over blooms; we drank in the quiet. this time of day in the garden was divine. we vowed to go more often, to soak up this place – so much beauty, such intention to sustaining it.
it’s really what i cannot fathom: the idea of not working to sustain the beauty of this country, instead, working to destroy it.
the list of places we’d love to go is lengthy. they are not shopping malls or shipping warehouses or land massacred for its resources. the list is the quiet places. the places of grandeur. the places that are understatedly glorious. the places that are wild, that are wide-open, that embrace all who step there.
sustaining the beauty of this country is not just about the environmental legacy of its sea-to-shining-sea. it is about its history – the good, the bad, the ugly. it is about the learnings, the coming-of-age into democracy – rights and privileges deemed law for the populace. it is about the diversity of its people, the gifts that we each bring – spokes in the wheel. it is about the sustaining of care and concern for each other, empathy as a moral code, compassion as a north star. the list of places of integrity within the hearts and minds of those in positions of leadership.
for those who do not wish to perpetuate goodness, who wish to forward messages of hatred and cruelty, who have no intention of sustaining beauty of any sort – these are people i cannot grok. it is impossible to wrap my head around the embrace of such immorality. it is impossible for me to understand such a disregard for decorum, for human dignity, for the wonder of living in the universe, for peaceful coexistence.
“unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. it’s not.” (dr. seuss)
whether or not this is true, i thought it was funny and i laughed when i saw the bumper sticker.
there is definitely a little hippie in the two of us….all right, more than a little. and i’m perfectly ok with that. particularly the part about wishing for a world centered on peace, love, social change and harmony. and the part about gender and racial equality. and the part about being a conscious consumer, about focusing on environmental wellness, awareness of the footprint of products and of, well, everything, about being accepting and open-minded. and the part about not being excessively materialistic or terribly mainstream or fixated on massive accumulation of wealth. and the part about believing in kindness.
yes. if those are the descriptors, then, i guess, the shoe fits.
and then i think of the opposite.
those wishing for a world that is dictatorial, with extremist and narrow views, centered on suspicion and hatred, bigotry, patriarchal mores, xenophobia. a world that is cavalier about its nonchalant environmental abuse, apathetic about the future impact from the footprint of its intentions, close-minded and exclusionary. a world that is rigid, isolationist, with self-serving restrictive inhumane tenets, competitively materialistic and skewed to the stratospheric haves. a world that believes in cruelty.
john pavlovitz wrote, “if tens of millions of people get up every day and do a small something, that’s a pretty damn powerful something.”
his wise words suggested to “leverage your life where you are” and that we are each gifted with “the proximity to need and the agency to alleviate it“.
his wise words helped the paralysis that we were feeling.
in these times of extreme chaos, it is easy to be overwhelmed and we have felt that just like many around us. it helped to be reminded about the power – the moving of mountains – of leading with the intention of good, of choosing even simple acts of kindness. doing something.
tens of millions of people could get up every day and do nothing. tens of millions of people could be complicit with the state of the country. tens of millions of people could be cold-hearted, could not care, could place their own needs first and foremost and singular. tens of millions of people could look away from the chaos and the cruelty, the lawlessness and the devastation upon others in their community. astonishingly, tens of millions of people are doing just that.
but there are other tens of millions of people who believe in something different, who are showing up, who are cutting through the noise, who are helping, who are trying to make a difference, who feel the imperative to do something.
she said (words to the effect), “he’s worried that with all the politics and the chaos and everything else that is happening, fewer are paying attention to climate change.”
breck is growing by leaps and bounds, it seems. the top leaves are taller than the garage peak. it is both astounding and delightful, this little aspen tree.
because it has been an extraordinarily hot summer, i have watered breck consistently. last year the heat took a toll on breck and you could see it on stressed leaves so – between that and watching martijn watering his young trees on the youtube of his idyllic life in the mountains of italy – i decided it would be best to tend it more. breck has responded with glorious growth, rich verdant leafing, a bark that is appearing more white, quaking in every breeze, soaking up the attention.
and climate change continues.
because we are being expected to play along with the distraction games going on in our nation, our focus is being whipped from one manufactured disaster to another, with an attempt to keep our attention off all things horrific. because the current administration is gutting all things organic, all things scientific, all things that point to the intensified global warming that is caused by us humans – we will reap what we have sown and the already apocalyptic weather events will worsen. the damage is being done as we ping-pong back and forth between watching the gilding of the oval and the normalization of insane rhetoric, untruths of propaganda, a dying justice system, cruelty on the streets.
and climate change continues.
breck – in our backyard – dances when i water it with the watering wand. i can see it sigh with relief. just like, in particular, the basil and the sweet potato vine. the wilty jalapeño leaves immediately perk up, the cilantro ceases reclining in its pot. it doesn’t take much.
even as we love being right here – sharing space in our backyard with breck – we miss being out in the mountains. we feel at home there and yearn for a time to return. we know they will be there when we have a chance to make the trip.
we do, however, know that there is much happening out there. it is hotter, there are more wildfires and, hence, more mudslides. there is increased smoke at elevation, there is drought, there is risk for all wildlife and ecosystems. water availability is significantly stressed and pestilence is becoming more severe. erosion is accelerating with big-money-mongering efforts at more timber harvesting and various mining operations. the landscape is changing and we – as a species – are at fault.
meanwhile, the oval office and the colonnade are being tchotchked with gold – everywhere. the disrespect – of the people’s house, the people’s land, the people’s country, the people – is rampant.
there’s no reason to gild the lily of sea-to-shining-sea-america, the beautiful. it needs no ladening of gold, no tchotchkying of adornments. there is every single reason to protect it.
i’m pretty sure our mother earth would soak up the attention.
“positive cultural change today (as it has always been) is about leveraging your life where you are: by doing small, possible, measurable daily acts of decency, of protest, of advocacy, of collaboration.” (john pavlovitz)
the bumper sticker read: “kindness is an act of defiance.“
in a country with an administration that is leading the way on trying to make people believe that kindness is weakness and wokeness and various other nouns, being kind seems an infinitely easy way to push back.
i have been astounded to see people i know and love spew words of hatred aligning with this administration’s mounting display of cruelty. it would seem that they have plucked kindness and decency out of their hearts. it is my hope that this plucking is not permanent. it is my hope that a vigor – to help people, to collaborate with people, to share rights and freedoms with all, to advocate for those who are in need – will return at some point. but cold hearts become rigid quickly and their version of defiance seems to be complicity with the authoritarian vision.
and so we sit on the deck with dogga and talk about it all. we talk about our own plans. we ponder how we might make a difference, besides writing and writing and writing. we copy lists of things that are needed by local non-profits and organizations aiding people. we sort needs and wants and prioritize as responsibly as we can.
and we wander around the backyard, looking at the phenomenal growth of our herbs, the tropical-like burst from the flowers and the grasses and the sweet potato plants. we are grateful for this tiny place of earth that is ours. even in our own lack and thriftiness, we are grateful for our own abundance. in our own tiny yard, we snip basil for homemade pizza, cilantro for chili, parsley for red pesto, tiny cherry tomatoes and jalapeño peppers.
we cook, we clean out, we give away. we hike, we photograph, we write. we pay attention to little details. we try to find the small, possible, measurable ways to create culture change.
reverse threading 