we are equal grape jelly opportunity suppliers (egjos, for those of you who like acronyms). though our dedication to grape jelly is – supposedly – for the orioles and house finches, house sparrows and hungry potbellied squirrels are enthusiastic fans. and i mean, who can blame them? they are opportunistic foragers so all’s fair game.
we personally don’t have an issue with sparrows and squirrels eating jelly. we just clean the vessel and refill it as needed. watching from the deck or the patio is a joy and those squirrels – well – they are sooo entertaining with antics that challenge world-class acrobats (all while they are also always keeping an eye out for dogga).
opportunistic foragers take what they can get. if welch’s is on the table, then welch’s it is.
in the last few days, few months, couple of years, we have read numerous articles about the government of this nation – you know, the government of the people, by the people, for the people – eliminating all kinds of regulations that protect the people, protect the people’s land, protect the people’s food, protect the people’s water, protect the people’s healthcare, protect the people’s education, protect the people’s social programs, protect the people’s rights, protect the people’s vote, protect the natural resources and wildlife that is part of the land of the people. and why is that? because – in an innocent google – i came across a term that describes them in a polite way: they are opportunistic foragers. they will take whatever upon which they can get their greedy paws.
“…politicians are widely characterized as opportunistic foragers who navigate their environments by adjusting policies, rhetoric, and alliances to maximize power and secure reelection.” (ai)
not cute like pudgy squirrels or innocent like house sparrows, they are robbing our grape jelly and absolutely everything else we-the-people value. the corruption is rampant, the conscience is absent, the constitutional cornerstone of this country is ripping.
after the fourth was over, i watched a video of the fireworks display in glenview, illinois – just down the road a-piece. by the time darkness had fallen, glenview was socked-in by fog. it looked like hundreds, if not thousands, of people had gathered, on chairs and blankets, ready for the show.
this is much like our town – our fireworks displays are held on the lakefront, over the water. there are crowds of people, gathered on bag chairs and blankets and beach towels. for the size of our city, the display – sponsored by the local grocery store – is actually amazing. though we haven’t attended the last two years, i know that it is well-done, well-timed, well-managed and safer than those people who are setting off ridiculously large fireworks – overkill, really – in backyards with houses all around.
glenview was ready for theirs on the fourth. and, as the instagram video started, there was nothing to see. until suddenly, the foggy sky lit up in waves of orange and green and then red and then pink – much like heat lightning or aurora borealis. people began to laugh and ask where the fireworks were. the fog had taken its toll on the actual display and wasn’t letting go. had it lifted during the program of pyrotechnics, i’m sure it would have revealed beautiful sparkling sparks, clear trajectories of color, a stunning show. it appears it never lifted.
it seems that the fireworks in the nation’s capitol had a, well, similar problem. in a predictable effort to havethemostfireworksever, it appears that whatever company administered the fireworks very, very late on the fourth did not write a thoughtful show, did not reasonably time them, did not take into account rests inbetween the notes. instead, the longer the display went on – a display that was only designed to be thebiggestandthebest – the more smoke filled the air until the fireworks were no longer visible but for the smoke that had overtaken them. a fog of smoke caused by a fog of arrogant pretentiousness or poor planning or ignorant superiority or just plain incompetence. it’s not a surprise.
fog is one thing, but lacking capacity to properly time a fireworks display is completely another thing. wasteful. it should be embarrassing.
in a perfect parallel of themes, i wonder when the contrived-fog that has distorted the actual capacity to think for those cheering on this current administration might lift. when those who are sycophants, those complicit, those perhaps just-too-stupid-to-care might start to see things clearly. i wonder – if they ever do see things clearly – when they might actually do something about it…push back, speak up, put down the bigotry that blinds them.
i wonder if it will be too late. so much will have been wasted. so much will have lifted into thin air – behind the fog of this unconscionably destructive administration, gone, decimated, replaced – our democracy in tatters.
there were many comments on the glenview fireworks post. some people complained that they shouldn’t have gone. some people found humor in the natural circumstance of weather wreaking havoc on their fun. some people expressed they didn’t know what they were missing for they hadn’t been to the fireworks display before. it was all perfectly innocent. no one purposely interfered with their fireworks or destroyed their event.
what will socked-in people say when they come out of the fog of complicity and cultish-reverence and realize what is gone in this country isn’t natural, isn’t funny and, for sure, isn’t innocent? will they realize how a very purposeful intention set about to destroy their nation?
and the sailboat – in a bit of misty lake fog – sails on. and we sit in a country wasting away. it’s embarrassing.
i don’t even know if it is necessary to add anything to this quote, circulating as a meme with an unknown author.
though there is so much potential for us, for our country, and for mother earth, we are living inside their sickness, a sickness that clearly must not be able to grok bursting life, bursting love, a sickness that wipes out sense and conscience and all manner of compassion, a sickness that threatens all we hold dear, a sickness that is a quicksand eddy of all the worst things, a sickness that pulls a curtain on the existential questions of future.
so i’ll just leave it here for you and say that i get it if you are feeling this way. we are sad together.
there are paper plates hanging on trees just off the sidewalk all over our ‘hood. they announce that there will be a fourth of july parade early on the 4th.
for all the years i have lived here – longer than i’ve lived anywhere – there has been a childrens’ bike and stroller parade on independence day here in allendale. we used to have jack andrea at the front of the parade, beating a snare drum – with everyone, all decked out in red, white and blue with decorated bikes and strollers and wagons, following along. a joyous time followed by ice cream on author florence parry heide’s front lawn (now, for years, moved to a different front lawn).
at some point our children became too grown-up to participate in this parade and it was handed down to the younger children in the neighborhood.
for years now, we haven’t participated in it, but it still holds an old-timey sense of charm for me and i still can feel the anticipatory glee of little children who get to be in a parade.
only this time – as the parade makes its way around the blocks – i worry about what is to come for those very little children. this time – though we are celebrating our democracy – i wonder how long it will hold. this time – though a 250th celebration should be a big deal – i have to sit it out – the glee, the charm, the excitement. this time i have deep concern about where it is this country is heading.
dogga is more and more bothered by the fireworks, so we will not be leaving him as they proliferate throughout the lakefront. as our boundary-less neighbors set off giant fireworks directly behind our house, we will try to shield dogga from the noise and flashing lights, from the fire in the trees and the sky.
i worry about the opossums, the raccoon babies and the birds and squirrels in the trees adjacent to those pyrotechnics and crackers that rock the house. i worry about the fallout of bits of firework that we find in our yard and on our patio, our deck, inevitably our roof, the next morning. i worry about the lack of regard to safety and – as it approaches the wee hours of the night – i wonder about the lack of respect for others.
what is it they are celebrating? i wonder. what is it we-the-people are passing on to our children, our childrens’ children?
what about our country – in these moments – in the throes of unprecedented corruption – is there to celebrate?
the purple allium is in the garden over behind the art center on the lake.
as much as i have enjoyed a good fireworks display – and even a hand-held sparkler from time to time – this time – this year – in this country’s current circumstances – on this paper plate holiday – i will just glance over at the striking allium – exploding in all its purple glory – and call it a day.
this is the last day of national cancer survivor month.
and in the mess of chaos that this country is in, i haven’t seen much press about cancer survivor month.
instead, in the eddy of cruelty and the deplorable diminishing of real people with real stories – the administration has slashed medical and scientific funding, particularly as it has impacted cancer research.
it boggles the mind. truth be told, i don’t hesitate from saying it should boggle your mind as well.
i spent the better part of a decade involved in oncology events, touring with my dear friend and cancer survivor heidi, to lift up survivorship, to honor research, to celebrate pharmaceutical breakthroughs, to buoy non-profit fundraising for efforts related to cancer. it was good work, these events, as they brought us onto stages to speak and sing, to bring the heart-part to events that were more left-brained, to reinforce the heart-part to events that were already immersed in emotion and hope.
i cannot imagine a civilization that does not want to protect its citizens – its adults and its children – from the ravages of disease – any disease – nonetheless cancer.
i cannot imagine a civilization that does not want to do anything it can to provide treatment to its citizens – its adults and its children – in the ravages of disease – any disease – nonetheless cancer.
i cannot imagine a civilization that does not want to dedicate intensive research and profoundly generous funding to prevent its citizens – its adults and its children – from further iterations of ravaging disease – any disease – nonetheless cancer.
national cancer survivor month is about survivorship. it is about celebrating life, prevailing over horrific disease, acknowledging and pushing back on uncertainty and fear, helping others in these circumstances. it is about hope.
we – sharing the land of this nation – from sea to shining sea – are at a crossroads of choice. is it too much to expect the government of this country to invest in taking care of its citizens – ALL of its citizens?
may we – in this choice – be as courageous as the millions of cancer survivors among us.
“may your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” (nelson mandela)
“these incredibly brave survivors speaking out about unspeakable things. it changes your entire f—ing life” (valerie bertinelli)
they were walking toward us slowly, pushing a walker, every now and then stopping to dance a little in place. it is hard not to jive to the EDM music – it sets your spirit free and makes you dance. our son and his collaborator were lighting a fire under a massive audience dancing on waveland and halsted at chicago’s PRIDEFEST.
i noticed their shirt.“i am somebody” it read. i nodded.
it was clear that this person was struggling with something that physically debilitated them, their gait awkward, their pain visible. still, they danced and smiled and fistpumped the air and all of us around them cheered. yes, i thought, you are indeed somebody.
yet this country is working on eliminating all kinds of help for the disabled: medicaid, healthcare, food assistance, education. conniving to make somebodies into nobodies.
the guy in the crowd was visibly upset. he didn’t just hug the people nearby, he clung to them, crying. something was moving him profoundly. i don’t know what it was. but every person near him was acknowledging these moments of catharsis, these moments when he – this somebody – needed their support and love.
i weaved through the tight crowd to get to the front of the stage while we were at milwaukee PRIDEFEST so that i could get close-up photographs of our son on stage. once at the edge of the stage – smushed – i started snapping pictures. the guy next to me turned and looked at me as i was feverishly snap-snap-snapping and said, “this is my first time at pride!” he was elated, joy beaming from his face. it clearly meant the world to him to be there – celebrating – for the first time – maybe being openly authentic in public – for the first time. i was thrilled for him and we hugged. he took out a big handheld fan and fanned me while i – in the humid heat of the pavilion – took more photos. he sought me out in the crowd a few more times, every time this somebody glowing, this giant crowd of people embracing him.
and the administration of this nation – in a disgusting display of homophobia beyond the pale – is going after the very rights of the LGBTQIA community, rabidly seeking to foist their own version of love and sexuality upon all.
in recent days i have read a post with passionately evil words beyond what i can even describe nor care to describe. it was written about alex pretti and renee good. both somebodies who were doing the right thing against horrifically extremist deportation intent. these young people – the same ages as our daughter – lost their lives at the hands of this government. these somebodies who deserve to be here still, living, breathing, celebrating and – yes – constitutionally pushing back.
and now – beyond the evil intentions already in place – in an unconscionable decision by the supreme court, hundreds of thousands of real-live somebodies will likely be hunted down, merely for the beautiful brown color of their skin, a product of where they are from, where they have escaped, from which they have sought legal asylum.
and the statue of liberty in the new york harbor reads, “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”
your somebodies.
i just read an article about a woman in texas suffering from a miscarriage. she sought medical assistance only to be turned away twice at hospitals afraid to treat her because of the unbelievably extensive abortion ban. doctors were fearful to help her. her condition worsened and, though it is not hyperbolic to say that many women can experience acute distress from the complications of miscarriage, they still did nothing.
this nation is actively seeking – and succeeding in – limiting the rights of women as they seek care for their own bodies, unconscionably imperiling them. somebodies.
i have watched the epstein survivors many times now, speaking out about the atrocities they endured – at the hands of so many heinous people who have not been brought to justice, whose culpability slips into oblivion as institutions – with twisted mission – protect them. i could feel their pain, their frustration, their horror at the culture of complicity, of silence, of irresponsibility, of unconcern, of sloughing them off. and in those moments i have whispered to them how very much a somebody they each are and how very much they count.
“it happened. it was wrong. it matters.” (deborah tuerkheimer – credible: why we doubt accusers and protect abusers)
i can so relate. i, too, am a somebody.
“…brave survivors speaking out about unspeakable things…”
so many unspeakable things.
changing entire lives.
it’s all too much.
we are ALL somebodies.
“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. –that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.” (from: preamble to the united states declaration of independence)
somebody.
somebodies.
“…you are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here…(max ehrmann – desiderata)
in a diverse cross-section of life, i sat at the round table – one of fifteen such tables in the room. there are chairs, too, but not enough to accommodate all the people in the room, waiting.
it is a waiting place.
it is a jury room…and the hundred-twenty-five or so people gathered there all held a little orange card with their panel number on it.
it was a strange time to be serving jury duty, for more than one reason. the climate in this country does not seem to be one where the law is upheld, where the court is respected. and the ultimate court, those supreme justices, seem to be strangling the constitution at every turn. it is disconcerting.
i take this responsibility seriously. i’ve been on jury duty twice before. the first time i was merely 18 and in new york, called for two weeks. the second time i lived where i live now – and i, likely, sat in this same room as i waited for the high sign about my duty. that time i was sent home the first day. this next time, i was one of about 40 who remained in the room…
…and so we waited.
eventually we were told that cases had settled and that there would be no jury trials, that we could go home. i admit to being relieved, for i had much on my plate that might have precluded me from being the best juror i could be. and i believe that one must be the best juror one can be. in every single case.
and so as i look at the most recent decisions of the highest court of the land – the jurists above all others, i am appalled. how are these decisions upholding the united states constitution? how are these decisions aligning with the touted compassionate nature of this country? the empathy gap is extraordinary; the rhetoric of this political polarizing is aggressive and downright cruel beyond imagination. how is this the best these supreme judges can be?
it is utterly shameful.
another waiting place.
i hope for a profound watershed moment. i hope for the sun to come back out – to find its way, to wipe away the sickening darkness that has fallen upon our country. i hope for people to actually be the best versions of themselves – to use good moral conscience, to have compassion, to care about their sisters and brothers in the country and in the world, regardless of any social identifiers. i hope for this despicable time in the history of this country to end, for our nation to honestly examine how it got here, for people to honestly examine how their hearts embraced this bigotry and extremism. i hope to eradicate all that is choking off our democracy’s true potential so that it can be the best it can be, so that we can be the best we can be.
“the symbolism – and the substantive significance – of planting a tree has universal power in every culture and every society on earth, and it is a way for individual men, women and children to participate in creating solutions for the environmental crisis.” (al gore)
breck is as tall as halfway up to the peak of the garage now. it feels as if you could quite possibly sit in an adirondack chair – with time on your hands – and watch it grow…bits of branch reaching, reaching, leaf buds and then leaves unfurling and then more branch reaching, reaching and more leaf buds and more unfurling leaves. and it keeps going, despite the weather: storms and wind and hail and threatening conditions, despite it all. we love this quaking aspen.
breck, as i have mentioned, is the only tree i have ever – personally – purchased and planted.
we have had saplings planted on independence pass in honor of our mountain girl’s thirtieth birthday, we have had trees planted in memory of a cousin who loved the outdoors. but neither of us has had the opportunity to plant our own tree in our own yard – before breck.
because our shy-of-a-century-old maple has fallen, we will have another chance to pick out a tree – we hope two – to go in that parkway space between the sidewalk and the street. there is a reforestation program in our city that assumes part of the cost so that there are trees lining the streets of the city. it dates way back to the early 1900s when our ‘hood near the lake initially was planted with elegant elm trees, which, a couple decades later fell to disease. our maple had been steadily shading our home since the time of replanting. we will honor its beautiful and steadfast life by planting another tree – or two.
in the meanwhile, i’ve been whispering to the other trees here. the old – very tall – pine that is green about half-way ’round, its other branches shaded from the sun by neighboring trees, the spruce that stands in the opposite corner of the backyard. and the maples that are on the other side of the fence – they are enormous trees, towering over our backyard and our home. my whispers are for them to be stalwart, grounded, steady, flexible as we experience more and more extreme weather events…to stay standing all in one piece.
we have seen in recent days the dismantling – the decimation – of all kinds of laws as they pertain to climate change, all kinds of laws as they pertain to national forests, all kinds of laws as they pertain to national parks, all kinds of laws as they pertain to clean water, clean air, clean agriculture, all kinds of laws as they pertain to food growth safety, all kinds of laws as they pertain to livestock welfare, all kinds of laws as they pertain to renewable energy, all kinds of laws as they pertain to pollution, all kinds of laws as they pertain to science, all kinds of laws as they pertain to medical research….and all kinds of laws as they pertain to aggressive deregulation and expansion of timber production, regardless of any historic conservation or environmental protections. need i go on?
it is a heartless, short-sighted, ignorant set of ideals that annihilates, ravages, and diminishes the collective intellect of researchers, environmentalists, conservationists, scientists and that annihilates, ravages, diminishes and trashes the ecosystems of mother earth.
preservation is a much bigger word than demolition.
it feels like an honor – with substantive symbolism – to plant a tree in our yard – and to know that we will likely not be here to see it tower above our old house, to know that it will sustain through time – like trees do, to know that it will both breathe and generate clean air, to know that it will remember that we carefully chose it, we nurtured it, and we trusted it to stand fearlessly in the face of all change and any challenge.
because trees are like that.
“happy the man to whom every tree is a friend.” (john muir)
i could get lost in just gazing at this spot where greens converge. i find myself breathing deeply, taking it in, appreciating how utterly extraordinary the nuance, how textural, how life-affirming.
it has been a week. with multi-layered challenges, personal and nationwide.
in the middle of the week, neck spasms – which i had in february for the first time in my life – and which sent me to the emergency room – returned with a vengeance. to say that i was laying awake all night, fearful of the way these manifested in my shoulders, my jaw, my chest, my neck, would be an understatement. it was downright scary. and so painful – even for someone with a relatively high pain threshold.
when it finally slightly eased up for a bit in the morning – after a long, sleepless night – i was exhausted and overcome with how it must be for people who are in chronic pain. the chronic pain of disease, of life-altering treatment plans, of hunger and thirst and of not-enough, of homelessness, of psychological and emotional scars, of addiction, of deep, all-consuming worry. thinking of others always puts one’s own pain in perspective.
for a bit of time – the bit when the spasms did not refer to all these other parts of my upper body – i could breathe more deeply. and so i went outside to our deck and little potting stand – to look at new growth, to soak in the colors green.
in wednesday’s news there was much headlining about a quiet interview that the speaker of the house had on a tiny radio station in his home state. and, in that interview, he revealed the intention of this administration – to fix (read: gut) medicaid, medicare and social security in an effort to free up money so that this government might be able to make a dent in the country’s trillions of dollars of debt which is – clearly – attributed to mountains of tax cuts for the ultra-wealthy.
so. their goal? take away from the most vulnerable and the eldest in order to further bankroll the gluttony.
it is hard to wrap your head around this kind of whoring of humanity. the word “disgusted” barely touches it.
again, i say, there is no reverence. they have reverence for nothing.
i wonder what our communities, our states, our nation, our world will look like once they have eliminated all that is good, all that is natural, all that is lawful, all that is compassionate, all that is life-giving or life-affirming. what will be left after the land and the natural resources and the regular folk and the goodness are decimated?
as i stood and looked at our tiny vegetable and herb garden, i was filled by the beauty, wrapped in the essence of green, and a sense of balance was restored in me.
though the spasms started up again, this is not about my neck spasms. when they re-started, i felt slightly more equipped to deal with them, carrying into the pain the knowledge that they would – in time – ease up.
but for some, there is no easing up. there is only long-term pain, without ceasing.
there are people intentionally hunted down for their ethnicity, people intentionally taken off rolls for food assistance, medical assistance, housing assistance. people removed from jobs of science and education and journalism so that the country ceases progressive forward-movement and so that the only narrative going forth is vile, self-serving propaganda. there are people targeted by the brandishing of bigotry. there are people whose chronic pain – no matter what it is – no matter the umbrella under which it falls – seem a nuisance to this administration, an administration without a heart or a conscience or any sense of reverence for anything other than self and money and retribution.
were i to be given a choice – live acknowledging simplicities – like the nuance of green OR live inside the insanity of always-wanting-needing-hoarding of moremoremore – i would go with cherishing the tomato plants and herbs and lavender and licorice plant every time.
i would go with the convergence of green, the convergence of goodness, the convergence of growth, the nuance of breath, the affirmation of life, living and reverence for it all.
the question “when does it cease being a peony?” never occurs to me. because it never ceases being a peony. it is intrinsic, even as its extrinsic identity falls – petal by petal – to the ground.
the storms came. and wind and heavy rain. and the peonies bowed to them. the blooms were large – triumphant pink – but couldn’t withstand and, though some blossoms remained intact, many began to lose their velvet petals as the deluge let up and the sun came out.
there was not a peony on that entire plant, though, that was not still a beautiful peony. even with pistil exposed, with stamen missing, with wrinkled or missing petals. through the storm – and after – it remained – drumroll – a peony.
the storm has been brewing. apparently, there is more to the storm than i understood – as i now realize that there has been much in the history of our country i did not learn – so much was about teaching to the test we missed the dualistic humanity of the narrative. the story is not so innocent; the intentions are not so magnanimous. there is much malevolence in the story of this country and current events are mimicking the evil of earlier times.
but the democracy has been in place now for two hundred and fifty years.
yet, devastatingly, we celebrate america’s birthday just as we are watching the takedown of america’s freedoms, laws, its very constitution.
when does it cease being a democracy?
that question had never before occurred to me with such a sense of urgency. until now.
now i am worried.
the peony is a peony any and all times because it has the heart of a peony. it is nothing else. it hasn’t been anything else. it won’t be anything else.
the question “when does it cease being a peony?” never occurs to me. because it never ceases being a peony. it is intrinsic, even as its extrinsic identity falls – petal by petal – to the ground.
