the snow around it was untouched, pure, driven by wind. the grey of the day was serene, quiet. the chair waited.
we had passed by the chair a few times before. it sat, unsat-in, looking lonely and wistful, as only empty chairs can look. the chair waited.
after the fresh snow had fallen, we pulled on snowpants and magical down mittens. with roads barely plowed, we trekked around the neighborhood, coming upon the chair, waiting.
it was as if i could hear its sorrow as we approached, this chair left outside with no takers. without hesitancy i walked to it, to sit in its snow-filled seat, to ponder life for just a bit of time. i could feel the chair smile.
we giggled at the absurdity of the easy chair in the snow, but the chair just sat, gleeful with the company and the sound of laughter.
the technicolor snowglobe moment looked black and white, stark contrasts against powder. the chair felt hopeful, color returning to its chair-life.
as i stood to go, i silently thanked the chair and wished for its adoption by someone who needed an easy sit, a place to wonder.
we walked away and i turned back just once. the chair was sitting up straight and tall, stalwart, steadfast, heartened.
a day or two later we went by the place where the chair had sat. recent snow had filled in where it had been, filled in my bootprints around it.
van morrison said it: “i want to comfort you. i want to comfort you. i want to comfort you. just let your tears run wild like when you were a child. i’ll do what i can do. i want to comfort you. you put the weight on me…i want to comfort you.”
how is it that, in the middle of feeling low-low-low, these sweet animals know exactly what to do? tucked under an old quilt, dogdog and babycat jumped up on the bed, searched my face and snugged up tightly right next to me, bookends on either side.
there are days – in these times – we must all feel the anguish of mental health exhaustion, of wide-awake anxiety, of worries too steep to climb, struggles, fears to which we close our eyes, wincing in pain.
there are days we reach out to others, extending words of reassurance, tiny tidbits of humor, virtual hugs, care packages, texts of love.
there are days we can only lay under a quilt. we sort and sort through the stuff-in-our-brains, listing the realities of our angst, wondering, reeling, succumbing to lonely early winter darkness.
if only it were so easy as to be dogdog and babycat. with no hesitation, they simply comfort. their response is pure. their compassion is the stuff of unconditional love. they don’t make assumptions or have judgement. they don’t assail with questions or platitudes. they don’t slough it off or explain it away. they don’t ignore it.
instead, they show up. and it is absolutely clear to me that they are saying, “i want to comfort you.”
the headline from business insider magazine reads, “chris krebs firing from CISA (cybersecurity and infrastructure security agency) was evidence of his success.” the united states top department of homeland security cybersecurity official was fired this week after spearheading efforts to protect the democratic process of the election. he spoke to the truth; he exposed the falsehoods, the mismanagement of factual information, the peril to free and fair elections, his ignored answers to questions about an election that was “the most secure in american history.” he was removed. democracy is at stake.
defense secretary mark esper, apparently not loyal enough to a president who seeks not truth, but rather, compliance, was fired early in november, injecting uncertainty into an already perilous global climate. he was replaced. our country is destabilized, put at greater risk.
lt. col. alexander vindman, a national security council staff member, raised his hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. after speaking to the truth in impeachment hearings for the current president, he was fired by the president, the same man who was impeached. his error? speaking the truth, citing facts, about a man who demands only absolute alliance, disregarding truth. that man, along with those complicit to him, exacted revenge.
dr. anthony fauci, the director of the national institute of allergy and infectious diseases since 1984, speaking to the truth, the inconceivable and unconscionable peril that this country is facing in the middle of this raging global pandemic, has been minimized and tossed off, threatened with being fired by a president intent on absolute control, absolute obedience. factual information needed to protect a vulnerable populace has been withheld, experts with words of wisdom have been held at bay. more people will contract this disease. more people will die.
“transparency, in a business or governance context, is honesty and openness.”
“transparency is the open sharing of information from a business to its consumers. it creates brand trust, good communication and perceived good citizenship.”
transparency is not the utterance of pretty words. it is not relationship participating in hiding the truth, sweeping it under the rug. it is not silent. it is not intentionally deceptive. it is having hard and healthy conversations, respectfully taking responsibility, navigating difficulty, meeting and addressing problems head-on, collaborating with maturity, eyes toward progress and shared authenticity.
our election process. our national security. the integrity of our leadership. our collective health.
in the last few years i have become increasingly vocal, doggedly writing about the politics of this nation. i have watched an administration sweep in wearing hatred and division on its sleeve, attempts to undermine and destroy any forward movement this country has made or has desired to make on so many fronts. i have decried their rhetoric, narrative of severing, narrative of bigotry, narrative of self-serving agenda. i have pushed back against the frailty of humankind and against the furthering of prejudice and discrimination of any sort, be it under the heading of race, gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, economic status, religion. i have, time and again, asked to uphold what would make the populace safer in a raging pandemic. i have asked for leadership to be responsible, to be truthful, to be one with integrity, to prize virtue. i have raised up climate change and this good earth time and again. i have cited examples of inequality. i have been open and honest about my feelings and opinions, vulnerable to assault by those who do not agree. i have learned that’s ok.
in the last few years i have become increasingly vocal, doggedly writing about the evanescence of time, the impermanence of this very life, the beauty that rises with the sun. i have pointed to moments of joy, moments of devastating grief, moments of sheer bliss, moments to memorize. i have spoken of and to the ocean and of and to the top of mountains. i have drawn pictures in the sand and let the cool waters of high elevation streams run through my hands. i have described treasured moments with you, my children, with family, with friends, with my husband. i have been aware of how fleeting time is as it races on. i have learned that life is simply that – learning.
in this time it is my hope that this country will gather its resources into its national quiver and will lead forward with arrows of love and compassion. it is my hope that this country, like committed and passionately dedicated parents holding newborn life, will embrace each and every one of its citizens, holding and blanketing them with reassurance, with protection, with a promise of doing better. it is my hope that this country will offer to you – its children and its children’s children and its children’s children’s children – new times of peace, new times of equity, new times of profound and wise knowledge, new times of opportunity, new times of kindness, and that this will surely sweep across the land from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waters, from sea to shining sea.
it is my hope that you both, my amazing and brilliant daughter and my amazing and brilliant son, deep in your adventurous souls, will feel the freedom promised you in the universe. it is my hope that you speak your truth, that you speak for, that you speak against, that you speak up, that you speak out. it is my hope that you feel affirmed in your lives, strong and powerful, fiercely dedicated to every breath, tenacious, and both gently kind and profoundly vehement in the demand for justice and liberty. it is my hope that you feel unconditionally loved and cherished: by me, by partners, by family and friends, by this nation, by this very good earth. it is my hope that in the moments you take a deep breath and exhale you know that your presence in this universe is light itself and is truly making a difference…forever.
sensitive souls, dogdog and babycat study us, follow us, respond to our auras. their questioning gazes, locking eye-to-eye contact, belie all manner of thought and wondering going on in their minds. they are clearly concerned. in moments of high anxiety, moments of shorter fuses, moments of tears, they pace, uncertain how to help, uncertain of what they might do to resolve the angst. in moments of laughter, moments of gaiety, moments of teasing, they play along, happy to be a part of the joy-joy.
lately, after deep behavioral study of us and subsequent research, they have made a few requests: stop reading the news, stop wondering when orbit-people are going to be honest and forthcoming, stop checking the weather for a late warm spell, stop worrying.
they checked in with d on this; it was a meeting of the minds. “momma is clearly distressed. she is agonizing over things she has no control over. we want to help,” they told d.
as he relayed this to me, i asked, “what did you tell them?”
he said, “i told them that, though daunting, stress is a fact of life for people. i told them that fretting, even brooding on things, is a part of people’s every day, of their makeup, that there are so many things to be besieged with, things over which to be troubled.” he continued, “i tried to explain the political chaos, supreme court indignities, the financial strain, healthcare issues, the fear of the pandemic, racial, gender and sexual orientation inequality, pointed misogynistic behaviors, the isolation…”
“wow. what did they say? what did they do?” i asked.
“they stared at me, blank-eyed, and said, ‘can we have a treat?'”
she led us up this mountain. my beautiful daughter, surefooted and strong, an exceptional guide, stopped in high altitude to allow me to catch my breath, to sip water. i wondered where the lake was…each step i took. but, following her, i stopped wondering if i would make it there. the confidence she exuded was both palpable and contagious. and so it was both thrilling and challenging to be high on independence pass, starting at the trailhead just a bit down the road from the summit.
she led us up this mountain and everything else fell away. far below us was the gravel lot, the highway. far below us was the truck that would soon take us away from these mountains, this heart-place. far below us were thoughts of leaving, thoughts of anything back home, thoughts of the pandemic and the election and real life and the worries embedded in all of that.
she led us up this mountain and we gained more than elevation as we trekked, our footfalls on the trail lost in the sound of the wind. we gazed around us, first below the treeline, then above, with fir and pine our hosts, the quaking golden aspen far below, unseen. the creek punctuated our thoughts and – admittedly, my puffing breath – tufts from mountain goats decorated thick branchy and leafless bushes.
she led us up this mountain and the less air i had left, the more it filled me. i wanted to hold onto every last second. i wanted to stand high on this mountain, next to this stunning pristine lake with my beloved daughter, and just weep. my heart needed this hike. my soul needed this hike. my body needed this hike. every other hike we had taken over our joyous days in these colorado mountains had led us to this hike. i was exhausted and cold and invigorated, hot-flashing and weak-kneed. and so, so grateful.
because mostly? because she led us up this mountain.
the crows have been barking in our backyard lately. they sit high in the trees and take turns flying to prime spots, cawing and letting all other crows know that there is an invader, an intruder, something with ill intent in the area.
the hawk has been hanging out in our backyard lately. he sits high in the trees or on the neighbor’s swingset or on our chainlink fence and every so often swoops down to fetch something mysterious and unseen off the ground.
the crows do not like the hawk and make it known. oftentimes, they gather together, mobbing, protests in-beak, and chase the hawk off. although not in harmony, it is a symbiotic relationship, predation, this hawk-crow living arrangement. the crows recognize that the hawk is a predator. they do not nuance the behavior of the hawk nor do they make excuses. they have no illusions and their task is clear – to drive him out of their territory.
crows, dealing with predation of hawks and owls, do not get to just live peacefully flying about, building nests, laying eggs, raising their young, making trips to the local walmart.
instead, in examples of symbiotic parasitism, parasitic birds prey on crows and other birds, laying foreign eggs in their nests, removing the host’s eggs. these eggs often hatch sooner than those of the crows, taking over the nest. fantasies of elitism, selectionism and superiority surely brew in their agenda-driven actions.
about 100 different brood parasites show up as a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” attempting to fool various host birds, lay eggs in others’ nests, avoid the work and, eventually, reap the benefits as the newly hatched offspring kill off the siblings in the nest. it is “survival of the fittest”. some hosts recognize the wolf in their nest and fling them out, but this is not a common defense mechanism. brood parasites have evolved for long term. and crows and other hosts need be savvy enough to still survive, nonetheless.
as the crows mob in the tall oak tree behind us and begin cawing i think that we, too, must be noisy.
for there is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, set on long term survival, ruthless and predatory, parasitic and dangerous. do not nuance the wolf’s behavior. do not make excuses. have no illusions. be clear. recognize that it has ill intent, fantasies of elitism, selectionism and superiority, and must be driven out.
it really is no longer about us. it is now about those who come behind us. it is about those who follow our footfalls and any who step in moments beyond ours. we owe them – in advance.
we owe them a country based on life, liberty for all and the pursuit of happiness.
we owe them a country truly practicing equality in every way, be it gender or race or sexual orientation or economic status or religious preference.
we owe them a country that is healthy and mindful of its environmental future, a country that has clean water, clean air, clean vegetation, clean food sources.
we owe them a country with an openly crossed aisle, where respectful conversation takes place and negotiation is paramount.
we owe them a country where leaders are cherished examples of goodness, stalwart and compassionate role models for their children and their children’s children.
we owe them a country where truth is valued, where fallacy and falsehoods are not propagated like the wind, where honor stands tall.
we owe them a country where voting makes a difference and every voice counts.
we owe them a country and policies that hold every citizen’s safety in high regard.
we owe them a country that chooses kindness.
we owe them a country where national treasures are relationships not tangibles.
we owe them a country that cares about their good health, that supports them if they are hungry, that encourages them to learn, that embraces their new ideas, that cares when wrinkles grace their faces.
we owe them a country, a world, that helps them dream.
we owe them sunrises, sunsets and moonrises that hold promise, light and hope.
it is our legacy to them. it’s not about us any more.
happy-lights. we surround ourselves with these. on the deck, on the headboard, strung on ficus trees, draping the shelf in the kitchen. there are still happy-lights at the littlehouse on island, touches that made it feel like home, tiny torches of happy.
it is astounding to us that through the dead of winter, their glimmer shining through the snows of the season, a rainy spring and a hot, hot summer these little minilights, plugged in and on 24/7, lasted over eight months on our front rail since we put them up in early december for the holiday season.
in true beaky-behavior, i am going to write this happy-light company a letter. because what person, what company, doesn’t need to hear something positive during a time of so much uncertainty.
$2.99 is marked on the box. because i know me, i know that we wouldn’t have purchased them until they were on 50% off sale. even at full price, i have to say, the twinkle of these lights outside as we pulled up in the dark, the twinkle of these lights in our dark sunroom or over the littlehouse sink, is a we-are-home reminder. it gently says to us that we are in a safe place, a place of love, a place we care about, a place of light.
perhaps this country needs to string up some happy lights. 2800 miles across the united states is 14,728,000 feet. our happy lights are 20′ of lighted joy, which means 736,400 strands of this very set. that would end up costing a tad bit over $2.2 million. but….on a 50% off sale we’re only talking $1.1 million. and wouldn’t that be an inexpensive (federal-government-spending-wise) message to all: you are home. you are safe. you are cared for. you are in a place of light. you are loved.
a quote attributed to several, it appears lauren morrill first tweeted this.
for months now i have been imploring people – publicly – to wear masks. i have hoped for the simple respect of the medical guidelines of social-distancing and hand-washing, along with mask-wearing, to aid in the cessation of the pandemic. for months now i have watched people deliberately ignore the urgings of the medical and scientific experts, wearing masks arrogantly around their chins or under their noses or not at all, gathering closely, shunning the advice. it feels like asking your toddler to be nice to his infant sibling or her playground buddy – over and over and over. but toddlers learn to listen. how is it so easy to be devoid of compassion? how is it so difficult to care about others?
this country, based on supposed independence, is 331 million people inter-dependent on each other. we would cease to function were we to unlink arms in food growth and distribution, product supply, education, medicine…. it is a fool who thinks we are individually able to sustain life in these united states without each other. no matter where.
so why is it so hard to convince people to care about people? why are there rabid attendees at political rallies during a pandemic without masks, without physically distancing? why is it so hard to understand the perils of bringing covid-19 back to families, to friends, to schools, to communities? why are there unmasked motorcycle rallies where people attend and become super-spreaders? why did 65 people attend an indoor celebration in maine, thereby spreading the pandemic to 175 non-attendees, seven of whom have now died? why are people singing in places of worship when we know aerosols are aggressively contagious? why are people gathering en masse in backyards and parks sans masks, sans distancing, sans any evidence of what is really happening? why are there children and teachers in school, crowded into classrooms where social distancing is impossible? why is there any expectation that there are children at college who will not gather and party without heed to being restrictive when there are children with parents who scoff at this pandemic – how would we expect anything different? why are there people at captain mike’s without masks in a county and state that is having a surge of coronavirus? why are people screaming about their “freedoms”? surely freedom is of little value without those you love around you. surely freedom is of little use without health and stability. and yes, surely freedom isn’t free.
so why is anger so cheered on? why is leadership, so unworthy of respect on so many levels, so cheered? why are untruths so cheered on? why is the subjugation of racial, gender, sexual orientation, religious, economic differences so cheered? why is the vehement denial of anything or anyone different so cheered on? why is smug elitism so cheered? why is bigotry so cheered on? why is violence in speech and action so cheered? why are vigilantes so cheered on? why is open-carrying assault weapons in public places so cheered? why is the destruction of all the good intentions upon which this melting-pot-country was built so cheered on? why is the system of pushing down, even further, those-without so cheered?
why is it that caring about other people is not cheered on?
susan wrote that someone stole her “coexist” magnet off the back of her vehicle. sigh. why is coexisting so hard a concept?
reverse threading 