and down the road, around the corner, in the littlefreelibrary just off the sidewalk, the sesame street gang spoke to the wild range of emotions i was feeling.
“happy and sad, grouchy and glad” was facing the glass door of the wooden library box, just waiting to be taken home.
thinking of how many lessons i learned from sesame street and its – clearly woke – characters – even as a parent of young children back in the day – i was tempted. sesame street’s diversity, embrace of differences and handling of difficult topics of injustice was a breath of fresh air….clearly too loving and kind for today’s anti-empathy-anti-free-speech-anti-inclusivity-anti-equality-anti-compassion-anti, well, anti-democracy crowd. it’s exhausting. sad and grouchy don’t even touch it.
i pointed out the book to d as we walked by and we both laughed when i said that it was the perfect book – the understatement of the wild ride of emotions that we have living in this country at this time. i would extract happy and glad to relate only to our personal lives and not the state of the unconscionable insanity of this country.
i didn’t read the book – we didn’t even stop and take it out of the littlefreelibrary. though if we walk past it again today, i might just do that. it might help.
i want to see how elmo and grover and cookie monster deal with the roller coaster of feelings. goodness knows i have some trouble with that these days.
here at the end of september – heading rapidly into october – elton john’s “your song” lyrics – “how wonderful life is while you’re in the world” – are relevant to me. we soon will celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary and life is truly wonderful for me because david is in it.
so the card at the antique shoppe caught my attention as we passed by it a couple weeks ago.
just as quickly as that charming card caught my attention, so did one hanging on a rack below it: “i tolerate you“.
putting them together – a yin-yang spectrum – they made me laugh aloud and i showed david. because – you know – blissful adoration and barely tolerating someone go hand in hand.
we both had a good laugh then. people in the shoppe stopped and looked at us. we kept laughing.
as we move through the days remaining of our ten married years and into the beginning of our eleventh married year – particularly at this time in our lives – we take heart in this laughter. as victor borge said, “laughter is the closest distance between two people.“
it’s one of the things i love most – laughing together. particularly when i am feeling tolerant of him.
“we are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” (dr. seuss)
sometime last week we noticed it. tucked into one of the trees along the lakefront park was this tiny “wishing palace”. i took a photo but didn’t make a wish. i’m thinking i should have made a wish. and now i’m thinking that every time we walk past this tree, we should stop and make a wish.
it’s the what-would-i-wish-for that’s tough, though.
because right now? there are too many things to wish. where does one start? what one thing might be the umbrella over all i would hope for?
how do i wrap up all the goodness i would wish for this country, this world? how do i wish for kindness to lead the way? how do i wish for equality and fairness, decency and compassion? how do i wish for all to live in peace? what is the wish when one desires everyone – every. one. – to have a fair shake at living well, at healthcare, at having food and shelter and necessities, at feeling valued? how do i wish for people to have opportunities for good work, for making a difference for others, for respect? how do i express a wish to dispel bigotry and racism, xenophobia, homophobia, misogyny, caste ladders of supposed entitlement? how do i wish for a stop to fealty to those who promote utter brutality and unconscionable treatment of others?
i’m gonna wish for everyone to awaken to the basics of humanity, to the golden rule (paraphrasing: do unto others as you would wish them to do unto you), to the elimination of cruelty and ruthless sadism, for evil intentions to be overcome by noble benevolence, for people to support one another.
but, you say, that’s a lot to wish for. what is your one wish? the one thing that embraces all of these, that overarches every virtuous wish?
“life is strange. you arrive with nothing, spend your whole life chasing everything, and still leave with nothing. make sure your soul gains more than your hands.” (no attribution)
it’s happening.
we can feel it.
i stood in his shop’s driveway talking to our beloved mechanic. “a simple life,” we agreed. we just want to live a simple life. not a life lived for or gauged on the stuff we have.
because that stuff – the stuff of life – inundates us. everywhere we look people are chasing it – a materialism that just never culminates in any moment where it is “enough”.
and in these unbelievably fraught times, stuff seems even less important than it ever did.
one of my best friends from high school sent me a bunch of texts early this past week. we were out on a trail, trying to soak up sun and hold at bay the yucky cold symptoms we were experiencing. suddenly, there were multiple notifications. he had become a first-time grandpa.
i stopped short on the trail and looked at the photographs of the baby girl just born into this world. i was overwhelmed by the sheer miracle of that and the miracle that this man and i had been friends for over fifty years (despite seeing each other only once in all that time since high school) and – back then – it would have been hard to imagine the moment i was experiencing: standing on a trail in a completely different state five decades later while he shared the moment of his entry into grandparenthood. truly a remarkable gift.
there were other moments this week, moments when i felt more connected to the world: talking with the woman with the jeep in the parking lot at the market when we went to pick up more advil, the frog that suddenly showed up in our pond, the jalapeños we grew that were ready for picking, a note from a dear friend to “stay strong”. we virtual-tracked our daughter running an incredible half-marathon in the mountains and we listened to our son’s music online. friends checked in to ask if we needed anything. the other side of the spectrum from feeling appalled by the world.
soon it will be time to resume the cleaning out. i told our mechanic about the sentimental person’s guide to decluttering book i had purchased (hoping for osmosis to make it stick) and another title i had seen: “nobody wants your sh*t“, which we both found infinitely funny. and true. because it is. true, that is.
i remember when my sweet momma – in acts of generosity and kindness – began to give away possessions. she knew. she knew how little all that stuff really mattered. and, in these quieter moments of getting a bit older, i – we – can see that, even more than before. especially in these times.
it would seem that dropping the shopping bags and the trappings of the ladder are thresholds into the gains of one’s soul, into the real stuff of life – because, as my poppo used to say about the other stuff, “you can’t take it with you.“
and it would seem that – instead of the receipts of chasing and chasing – the buddhist prayer is that which to hold close:
“may you be happy. may you be at peace. may you be free of danger. may you be loved.”
“we have a choice: to spend a lot of time fighting for what we know is right, or to just accept what we know is wrong. we must stand up for our rights and the rights of others, even if most people say we can’t win.” (susan polis schutz)
the time is now. we have a choice.
one of the things i didn’t mention from my view of the IG post of the mom speaking to her little five year old son – about listening to his teacher during a school emergency – also hit home for me.
addressing the context of that post was a comment from another young mom. she wrote about her reluctance to let her little boy wear light-up shoes to school. this should stop you in your tracks – like every other single thing in talk-talk about school shootings.
think about this.
she decided not to let her little boy – her five year old – wear light-up shoes to school.
light-up shoes.
and why not, you ask?
so that – in the event that a mass shooter is in the room – her tiny little boy does not light up in a dark classroom by moving his feet ever so slightly.
it is a despicable and horrifying thought and a stunning picture of where this country has come in zero effort of protecting its children.
but, hey, don’t forget all those thoughts and prayers – pathetic, passive excuses for inaction.
my little boy – now all grown up – wore light-up sneakers for a vast part of his little childhood. he loved them and we loved that he loved them. it never once occurred to me that his tiny shoes could be a death sentence for him. it never once occurred to me that he might light up in a dark classroom or a dark closet or a dark stairwell. it is a grossly vapid conscience this country has adopted – that has parents owning defense for their children against guns to the point of picking out footwear that doesn’t more easily enable a person with a weapon of mass destruction to kill their child.
what the absolute hell????
and now, that same little boy of mine – who is all grown up – who is gay – who is a recording and performing artist – lives in a city upon which the administration of this country has just declared war. announced in the most blatantly depraved meme, this administration is invading, looking for the light-up shoes.
the rights of the people of the city of chicago are being annihilated with this invasion. it is a constitutional failure of epic proportion.
and yet, i know that we have family members cheering on the sidelines, which, frankly, makes me want to vomit. even the silent – those who refuse to speak about what is happening – accepting what is wrong – they, too, are complicit. how.do.they.sleep?
this is my son – our son. these are his friends, his colleagues. this is his community. this is a city just down the road full of neighborhoods and people, diverse and vibrant, doing their best at a time the leadership is doing their worst.
just like every other place upon which they are siccing their thugs.
it is unconscionable.
and the time is now.
and everything inside me wants to write to our son and implore him not to wear light-up shoes.
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.
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.
though i didn’t sign up for it, i receive emails from a source called uncover words. in the middle of the middle of all the chaos and destruction of this country, this is the word that i received one day recently: addle.
i could not help but grimace at the timing.
addle: to confuse or muddle; to make unable to think clearly.
gee…i wonder who that could describe.
might it be people who are being tossed around as if they are at the end of a crack-the-whip – flung from one inane or juicy-gossipy topic to another in an effort to cover up the really important things that are taking place in this country? might it be people who are absolutely and completely averse to fact-checking, to looking up anything that might distort their cultist admiring view of the current administration? might it be people who have been propagandized into sheer ignorance by watching a news channel that is overtly dedicated to the pedestalizing of this same administration? might it be people whose base anger has made them into spitting, spewing hate mongers? might it be people who react before thinking, who yell before talking, who see only red even when it brings harm to their very own families, people in their own communities?
to addle.
addled.
lost.
a second word in that email was maunder. maunder is a verb. it means to talk in a rambling manner, to wander aimlessly in speech or thought.
wow. that seems contemporaneously and politically connected to “addled”.
to maunder.
the addled.
to maunder to the addled.
to make the lost more lost.
hmmm.
a third word that came on that email was this: effulgence.
effulgence is a noun that is defined as: a brilliant radiance; a shining forth.
an auspicious word.
using that in a sentence:
let’s hope there is an effulgence that might awaken the addled among us.
yes.
otherwise, we are destined for this country’s democracy to be entirely mauled by a maunderer with a dedication to depraved darkness – the opposite of effulgence – while the shockingly addled stand by, complicit.
and here we are, short-term residents of planet earth, inhabiting relatively tiny spaces of dirt for relatively tiny spaces of time. it seems absolutely paramount to be considerate of this most-amazing place – to nurture it, protect it, sustain it – while we are here before we move on to whatever other dimension to which we pass.
it was in the most basic of childhood lessons i learned to clean up after myself. i learned not to be wasteful or disrespectful to the environment. i learned to be mindful of good practices of ecology, of thrifty reuse, of repurposing, recycling, of proper disposal. my sweet momma always taught me the importance of leaving a place better than i found it, a lesson of stewardship with a quote commonly attributed to robert baden-powell (of mount baden-powell fame), the founder of the scouting movement.
and here we are. it would seem to be our deigned responsibility to be adamantly, vociferously, actively committed to leaving this home place of ours – this community, this state, this nation, this earth – better than we found it.
we need wrap our time here in conscience, in honesty, in compassionate dedication to virtue, to morality, to the upholding of equality and the rights of people to live free of prejudice and abuse, to truth, to accountability.
we need commit to the acknowledgement of empirical evidence of human-based climate change, to intelligent, scientific efforts of atmospheric correction, to alternative ways of meeting present needs without compromise of the future, to preservation and sustainability, to a rabid promise for a clean earth.
it would seem we must leave behind us all the best we can – a place of peace and respect for all, a place that will meet the needs of, nurture and not harm our descendants – physically, psychologically, spiritually. we must safeguard a place that will selflessly forward goodness for all mother earth and its creatures, for all humanity, for all time.
to place feet on the ground, to dig in the dirt, to gaze at the sky, to breathe the air, to drink the water – it is all interconnected. we all share in its enduring legacy.
“leave it better than you found it.”
please.
anything less is shameful.
and here we are.
*****
(in significantly relevant-to-the-moment news, it is more than unfortunate – quite stunningly devastating – that it is apparent – with the advent of tens of thousands of sexual abuse cases against the boy scouts of america – that actual boy scouts have not been left better than thousands of scouting leaders found them. indeed, baden-powell would likely be horrified at this tragic twist in the organization he created, necessitating a $2.46 billion settlement for sexual abuse victims left worse than before their time in the boy scouts. and here we are.)
reverse threading 