siri sent an unsolicited message. good vibes that feel like warm little boosts of joy and confidence are certainly welcome right now. i wonder how she knew.
these are perilous times. i’m not quite sure how to stay balanced or in center. so any little vibe-boost helps.
we’ve turned the salt lamps on in our studios. we have an ampersand in our living room. we exercise regularly. we listen to guided imagery meditation. we cook and eat fresh foods. we get outside. we hike in the woods and along the river. we hug our dogga. we are cleaning out and making space. we feed and watch the birds in our backyard. we study barney aging in the garden. we wear toasty socks and fur-lined boots. we have baselayers on and keep the house cooler. we open the window at night. we have two fig newtons every day. we sip bold coffee from hydroflasks our girl gave us. we have wine – just in case – on the rack our boy gave us. we use moisturizing lotion each morning and night. we try to stay hydrated. we prepare and share dinner at least twice a week with others. we listen to music. we read. we hold hands. we dance – all three of us.
and – even with all that – you can feel it seeping in. the dread. the horror of what has already happened in merely one week. the ill intent.
and so, we reach to others. because together – those of us who find it perilous – these unacceptably cruel, undemocratic, oligarch-led times – we may bring boosts of joy and confidence to one another. at the very least, we will tend to the most elemental bits and pieces of life.
and siri will shower us with good vibes in the middle of it all.
we were not the only ones to end the week with an entire bag of cape cod chips and a bottle of wine. it’s somehow reassuring to know we were not alone.
i know exhaustion is dangerous. it’s also the truth. one cannot help but be bone-and-heart-weary in the wake of the scripted chaos that has been this very week in american history.
and then i wonder what THEY see happening….those who intentionally voted for this wreaking-of-havoc.
yesterday we watched a jordan klepper video where he interviewed the new administration’s supporters outside at the national mall in dc, people who had expected to actually view the inauguration in real life. he showed photographs of the insurrection to these diehards and asked if they agreed with the pardons that these insurrectionists had just received. they did – they agreed – these same people who were thrilled – giddy, even – to hear that the garbage truck their redeemer sat in was literally in town. priorities and perspective – and the rule of law – are – apparently – not a real thing here.
but there was one man who jordan interviewed who stated that he had not seen the images he was being shown – images of cruel and absolute violence at the capitol. when pressed about that, he responded that he guessed that the media he watched had not shown those images. when asked if he watched the January 6 hearings, he replied no and then – drumroll, please – he said these words, “that’s on me.”
and so – for those people who are merely foxing it through life – with side jaunts to their facebook flat-friends – i wonder what you are seeing. because it sure doesn’t seem like you are seeing the sh*t that is really happening.
and – because you didn’t take the time to read anything about the agenda of project 2025 or fact-check the clearly-twisted “clean-slate” of your new president or even bother to check in with any sense of moral compass in your own heart (or do you really feel this much hatred??!!!) – you have contributed to the demolition of decency that has already taken place, you are complicit in all that is to come, you have installed a cadre of authoritarianism that the generation before us fought valiantly against.
barney – through wind and rain and snow and ice and blistering sun – has shed all the clothing of its keys – both black and white. this is the very last of it.
and, even stripped of so much, of the things that make barney look like a piano, barney is still a piano…barney’s soul is tenacious – still a smith-barnes upright – and we can feel evidence of scales and arpeggios and glissandos, of etudes and ballads, of pieces ethereal and bombastic. barney is changed and yet unchanged.
we will each face the storms of the future. we will surf waves and, sometimes, despite heroic tenacity, succumb to the inability to surf. but we will endure and persevere. we will look different and we will feel the same: changed-unchanged.
and, in the center of all of it, while we are on the way to later, stripped and naked of all that is superficial, smack in the middle of our souls, we will still be able to touch the black and white of our lives. just like barney.
“meaning is what’s left when everything else is stripped away.” (suleika jaouad)
like you, maybe, i woke up on tuesday, sickened. the scourge has impaled the nation and i am stunned beyond belief. though i know we – personally – will be working at keeping on keeping on, the fallout of less than 24 hours was mind-blowing. which i know was the point. shock and awe, as they say.
in the tracks of our future we need to decide just exactly what we wish there. the present tense cannot be that which we leave in our wake, for this twisted leadership’s twisted governing will – most definitely – be the end of humanity as we know it. it is hard to grok this kind of cruelty.
in this time of grieving for our country, our democratic ideals, rights and freedoms on the chopping block to be desecrated, a moral center devoid of morality, the heaviness of depression and dread move in like a thick fog – difficult to see through to the other side. this is stifling, intense, horrible.
and so, maybe, i know how you feel. and sitting in this “collective depression” (john pavlovitz) is necessary – for the moment. we need spend time looking back, looking at now, looking down the road. we need spend time in the middle of it all. there are no easy solutions, i suspect. but each inch of the road forward counts and the tracks we leave will tell the story of our attempt to find balance and peace and goodness. it is the fundamental one-foot-after-another.
even as i write this i know that i don’t know what i’m talking about. not really. i have not lived through such a time. i am – like you – newly embarking on a trek heavy with the baggage of an administration steeped in hatred, retaliation, corruption. to think i know anything about such things is overstating, hyperbole. i – like you – have been mostly fortunate to live – most of my life – in a country with laws, checks and balances, at least a few grains of fairness mixed in. but here we are. and, though 77 million people voted for this maniacal cadre, more did not – through their vote or their silence.
anne frank embraced hope, “i don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.”
ralph waldo emerson’s words remind, “life is a journey, not a destination.”
when i come out from under the quilt, reopen the blinds and step out, i know that we will consider carefully our path as we go. we will step lightly and intentionally. we’ll not carry the fancy luggage with leather-edged nasty executive orders and gleeful manifestations of greed and malfeasance with us.
we will carry the scroll of our constitution and its good will from here and now to next days and the days after – our tracks will not be shameful indicators of the worst of us nor will they embarrass us. instead, they will be steady and strong and will tell the story of this journey for “whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly” (martin luther king, jr.) and we have a legacy to choose.
“on the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.” (bennacht – john o’donohue)
in the meanwhile we keep hiking the trails nearby…the bike trail, state forests, nature preserves, state parks,, county parks. there are times (though never enough) we are in colorado or utah or north carolina and there are mountains or red rock to hike, deserts and canyons to explore, waterfalls to discover. but most of the time we are here. and here is where we hike. nevertheless, we keep it fresh, each time.
we’ll continue to sort life on these trails. with everything that has taken place in these last years – and, devastatingly, this week – there is plenty to sort, lots to process. these trails help us stay present – not get lost in the chaos of tangled underbrush, not get too waylaid by the terrifying what-could-happens. one step at a time, one foot in front of another.
i’m writing this at sixteen minutes after noon eastern time on monday. i have a pounding headache right now and my breathing is shallow. even without watching we can feel it in the air. the changeover. the democracy axis tipping to the oligarchs on the dais. there is a wafting scent of narcissism and revenge and you can feel the gloat descending like storm clouds. presence is damn necessary now.
“…a lot of evil happens because of ignorance and of numbness…” (john o’donohue)
so in the meanwhile – the time between this new now and whenever evil releases its cruel grip – we’ll seek the spaces that keep us in beauty. we’ll find others as they, too, look for the beautiful, the simple. and we’ll hold fast to the clay under our feet.
the connective tissue between us is sometimes like strong rope and sometimes like filmy silken thread. yet we are – one to the other – connected through bliss and storm, hot heat and bitter cold, mountaintop summits and chasmic challenges. though you may be peripheral in my every day story, we connect in the subplot of all our stories – the humanity of living – our interdependence, our shared earth.
we – together – in our shared mission seeking goodness – step into the next day. in our joining – together – we bring the best of each of us – the uniqueness of all our strengths, our gifts, our wisdom – and we buoy one another.
when the ice formed on the window in threads – more beautiful than i could have ever created – the feathery crystals latching onto the ice-strand – like tiny preschoolers holding the knots on a rope while walking in a safe-line – it reminded me, once again, of your presence. the threaded crystals remind me that we are not alone, that – together – we may find the beauty we know is there, the pause between the notes, the reinforcement, the ‘ands’ that we each desperately need.
the needlepoint of the universe – crocheted vapor – a talisman of hope.
“if everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light.” (rumi)
we are the light in this darkness – together – particularly when we make together our intention. though feeling as if hanging on by a thread, i take comfort knowing you are hanging with me, with us.
“…its first three words – ‘we the people’ – affirm that the government of the united states exists to serve its citizens.” (re: the constitution of the united states – senate.gov)
“of the people, by the people, for the people…” (president abraham lincoln)
we the people. the citizens of the united states.
“we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” (declaration of independence – archives.gov)
we the people. all citizens of the united states. equally.
the constitution of the united states has merely 4543 words (including signatures) which will take about one-half hour of reading. with the 28 amendments (now including the ERA) there are 7615 words, adding less than another half-hour.
the declaration of independence is 1458 words (including signatures) and takes about ten minutes to read.
today – this very day – might be an apt day to read these.
today – this very day – might be the day to consider – carefully – the words of these most sacred documents of this country.
today – this very day – might be the day to ponder what you consider integrity, truth, values, morality, decency.
today – this very day – might be the day to study the alignment of what you say you hold dear and what you do with your vote as a citizen of these united states.
today – this very day – might be a time to reflect.
because it’s way too late to not pay attention.
shamefully, today – this very day – is evidence of that. where now is this country today – this very day?
“we have also come to this hallowed spot to remind america of the fierce urgency of now. … now is the time to make real the promises of democracy.” (martin luther king, jr.)
“the time is always right to do what is right.” (martin luther king, jr.)
we the people are watching.
because today – this very day – there is most definitely a fierce urgency to do what is right.
i am distracted by the two days. the two days that are left. the two days before. two days. a whole two days. only two days.
“now it’s your turn to stand guard. may you all be the keeper of the flame. may you keep the faith.” (president joe biden – the united states of america)
so.
acknowledge dread, the quaking in your chest. know that in a hug one might feel the fluttering of another’s heart; one might calm the storm a bit.
be vigilant, ever watchful, particularly for opportunities to help preserve decency. know that there is power in compassion.
speak to truth; expose trickery and deceit and cruelty. silence is not golden, especially now. know that you are not alone in your grief nor your wish for goodness to prevail.
even laden with new snow, the grasses spring up, ever resilient. they show fortitude in predicament and circumstance – a teachable moment for those of us humans who are not impervious to such things.
maybe it’s their golden glow in sun low on the horizon. maybe it’s that there are small critters taking refuge under the umbrella of stalky stems. maybe it’s the reverent bow of the fronds, the balance in the arch of growth and weight, a toppling over. maybe it is simply grace.
“i do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” (anne lamott)
in moments of this past year i have found myself in the presence of grace. i have watched grace heal physical injuries. i have watched grace blanket people, restoring relationship. i have experienced grace reaching out its arms to envelop. i have received grace – the support of others. i have been surprised – even shocked – by grace and i have been surprised – even shocked – by a lack of grace.
for if the presence of grace – such an intangible mystery – does not leave us unchanged, then so does the absence of grace.
were the grasses to succumb, to be lying down, flat upon the earth, their glow of beauty and their cozy shelter wouldn’t be. their place in the world and its workings would be different, perhaps. their resilience seems to be the key.
“I know nothing, except what everyone knows – if there when grace dances, i should dance.” (anne lamott)
in the mystery that is beauty, that is grace, that is the intertwining of both – for surely they are hand in hand – there is an invitation for us to dance, upright upon a floor of dirt on earth under the sun, able to both receive and extend grace – like feathery fronds on an ornamental grass, ever resilient though the elements are threatening.
we carry that dance – tucked in – with us as we make our way. it is present, beckoning us. we can see it in the falling snow and the driving rain, thick fog and dark nights. it is there, ready to leave us different.
reverse threading 