truth seems to have taken a leave of absence from this country, no longer useful or appropriate or agenda-aiding for the current administration. instead, we – as a populace – are being fed smarmy falsehoods and all manner of fabricated bull in the name of “truth”.
the ability to manipulate any story, any image, any narrative, any situation, any anything is on the exponential rise. it is hard to discern what is real and what isn’t, what communication we receive or read is real and what isn’t, what images we see are real and what aren’t.
which makes it ever more important to delve into something before jumping whole-hog into believing it.
case in point – the biggest inaugural crowd.
case in point – everything re covid, including bleach and this: “just stay calm. it will go away.”
case in point – winning the 2020 election.
case in point – the peace-loving tourists in the capitol on january 6.
case in point – “they’re eating the dogs. they’re eating the cats.”
and on and on and on and on and on, ad nauseam.
despicable.
and that’s all old news, old old news, old old old news. nothing like the news of the day: stuff made up to validate chaotic, cruel moves by the administration to accomplish hellish corruption.
the ease in which they manipulate you, your hook-line-and-sinker dedication is their frenzied rapture. truly. (it is ridiculously hard not to use bluntly profane language to make this point.)
if you are believing – without bothering to check – what this prez and his team o’ teams are spewing, you are as wrapped up in his sickness as he is. delusion is a powerful contagion and a profound addiction.
like i said, i hardly know where to start.
be a good citizen. look it all up. double-check. have a conscience. save the democracy.
i found the foam core board in the attic while i was trying not to step in between the floor joists. i was carefully looking for something in a box, placing my socked feet on the old piece of paneling that covers a small part of this tiny room under the rafters. leaning up against the wall and straddling two joists was this cellophane-wrapped blank foam core. making a mental note that it was there, i backed out of the attic – because turning around while bending over – which is necessary – bending over, that is – is almost an impossibility. one does not want to mistakenly place one’s foot through the plaster ceiling of the living room below. (this, by the way, is the reason i go into the attic rather than sending d…just in case any foot goes through the ceiling…i’d rather it be mine….for obvious reasons.)
when we heard of the protest early this month i went back up into the attic and retrieved the foam core, dusted it off and got ready to write on it.
which brings me to my question.
if you had a piece of foam core and one of those really thick intensely smelly magic markers, what message would you write?
because it is time to speak up. way past time.
who are you? what does your heart say? what does your conscience say? what kind of america do you want? what kind of america would you like to pass on to your children and grandchildren?
is it a supportive country that generously embraces the unlimited potentiality of its melting pot of different people? or is it a cruel isolated land where every evil move hinges on how it benefits only the wealthiest and the extremists among us, marginalizing the rest?
are you rah-rah-ing the fall of democracy? or are you stunned beyond belief that we are facing authoritarianism in this country – literally i’s-dotted-t’s-crossed – in the matter of a few days?
the sun was getting lower in the sky and was shining through the marsh as we walked past. we hadn’t hiked a long distance that day – only about five miles or so – but we had started late and it was time to mosey home and think about making dinner.
the shadows on the path ahead made me grab my camera to capture a picture. cattails.
their shadows so clear it left little doubt as to what they were, the cattails punctuated the gravel as the end of the trail led up to the trailhead. patterns across the path were spaced like college-ruled spiral notebooks or full and half rests scribed on staff paper.
throughout our hike i kept drawing attention to our shadows on this beautiful blue-sky-sunny day. they changed from a short-stumpy pair of people to two elongated-legged tall people. in every moment, clearly – people. those two people were us, but – were those shadows stamped in time – you could only tell that we were people. nothing more.
what will the shadows of this time look like, later on down the road? when the sun has completely set on a day when the values of this country are no longer upheld, how will those shadows appear? will they show the truth of all this malfeasance? what does corruption look like in a shadow? what do greedy, evil, soulless humans (and i use the term ‘humans’ loosely) look like in their shadows? can you tell they are greedy, evil, soulless?
there is no way to tell – by looking at the shadows of these cattails – the state of their inner being, the truth of the cattail. should we really wish to know we must be careful to discern their health or dis-ease by examining them more closely. we must be willing to know more about cattails and measure their well-being by applying this knowledge. we cannot simply look at their shadows – and not look at them, their environment and their impact on that environment – to determine their vigor, their fitness, their soundness, their dedicated synergy with the rest. the shadows don’t tell the story of stagnant water, dying ponds or an over-abundance of cattails toxically crowding out ecosystems, the risk of flooding or being a prime pest habitat, a dangerous breeding ground of illness.
we must be willing to look at the cattails for what they are, what they represent, how they are sharing space. we must be willing to discern their true impact – good or bad. we must look at the cattails themselves and not their shadowy shadows. anything less could kill the marsh and forever pollute the pond.
i’m not sure why no one early in my life mentioned to me that thru-hiking the appalachian trail or the pacific crest trail – or any long trail for that matter – was a possibility. sans internet or social informant i feel like i totally missed this information and – more so – this opportunity. neither of my parents were hikers and long island wasn’t really a granola outdoorsy hiking kind of place. my spare time was spent at the water, on the water, in the water – the sound and the ocean were the guiding lights there. but what you don’t know you don’t know.
so now, here we are – in our sixties – both pretty enamored of the idea of thru-hiking. consequently, we watch the videos of many, many hikers – as you know – studying their gear and their processes, their fortitude and their bliss, their bag-meals and their tiny stoves and – for me, especially – their water filtering systems and photography methods.
one of my favorite field trips is to REI. though we are clear – and, probably, ridiculously obvious – in our lack of knowledge about likely ninety percent of the items there, we love wandering and dreaming, pondering aloud the merits of each piece of gear we see. we linger near the coffee systems and the sleeping pads, knowing that both coffee and sleeping would be paramount.
and over by the EAT sign at the store are the most amazing bag-meals – of every sort. so many options, though pricey, they eliminate our fantasy of some chef bamboo-picnic-basket-droning in our evening dinner with a tiny box of wine and wine glasses. in reality, it is more likely to find us with the tortillas and peanut butter, tuna bags and ramen – practical, inexpensive, lightweight – that are commonplace in backpacks all along the trails. we dream anyway.
nevertheless, every time we go to REI, it, once again, occurs to me that i was uninformed which in turn makes me wonder, wonder, wonder about what else i was uninformed. we immerse in learning. because it is a good thing to learn.
as time marches on in the corrupt takeover of our country, i have found there is much i did not learn before. reading historical recounting – now – that gives context to today’s grab at authoritarianism stuns me at times. “i-didn’t-learn-that-did-you-learn-that???” has come out of my mouth more than once.
i’m astounded at the connecting-of-dots and what the perspective that this country’s true history have revealed about what is happening now.
i’m disgusted by the gross efforts to thwart access to this information, to bury our history, to distort the truth of this country’s difficult and ugly path.
it is insanity to whitewash the timeline of these united states . we have much to learn from our past – so much possibility to learn from our mistakes, the opportunity to grow as a democracy, to come ever closer to the intended dream of e pluribus unum.
sweeping it all under the rug instead reveals the underlying evil intention – pure evil – for the “great again” is not really great at all. it is the elimination of fought-for civil rights, the oligarchic hoarding of money, the plundering of lawful checks and balances, the annihilation of justice, the imbalance of power, the dumbing-down of the populace, the retribution tour of a small soulless man and his rabidly-panting project-overtake puppet-cronies all hungry for bright white control.
tomorrow we will go to the voting booth again. we take this seriously each and every time.
for weeks now we have been inundated with postcards, signs, doorstep visits, calls, texts, emails – because – tomorrow – our state has a state supreme court justice vote.
because people – so, so many people – are one-issue voters and seemingly easily swayed – there is much fervor over this election. it’s important in many ways – gerrymandering the state and abortion rights at the forefront.
one candidate would like to keep wisconsin both gerrymandered and rolled back to 1849 – when there were few rights for women – including the right to determine their own healthcare, when, even in the case of rape or incest, abortion was outlawed. now, it goes to figure that this candidate is a man – because, well, of course. sexist misogyny in the usa.
the other candidate – a woman – wishes to keep wisconsin out of the 19th century because, well, we’re a quarter of the way into the 21st century now. she would like women’s rights to be equitable to men’s, because, well, that equality thing and all. she would like people to have equal voting rights. again, that equality thing. enlightened in the usa.
because reading, researching, asking questions, seeking truth seem to have gone by the wayside, the candidate-supported-by-the-oligarch-buying-votes who believes in suppressing workers’ voices, stripping healthcare and fair pay, supporting giant corporations and the extraordinarily wealthy can just as easily win as the woman-earning-the-votes can – this woman who has fought to protect workers’ fair pay and benefits, secure affordable healthcare.
because, well, people zero in on one – and only one – issue and vote on that with no consideration of the overview, the other issues, the fact that they are being hoodwinked into thinking that this candidate – who has opined on the one issue – has any policy whatsoever that aligns with the values of democracy.
to vote on one issue is to lose perspective of the whole. and the candidates – the ones on the red wagon screaming about trans people and dei and fraud and waste and conception and various other distractions that are entertaining wagonriders – are throwing the tenets of democracy into the gutter and are counting on wagonriding mob-mentality stupidity.
tomorrow we will go to the voting booth again. we desperately hope that we will be able to say this again in two years, in four years, from now on. we take it seriously each and every time.
we hope every single person with the privilege of voting – in any state of this country – takes it seriously as well. these are the moments that will make or break democracy. take – at least – a minute and inform yourself. don’t get lost in the weeds of propaganda or gross misinformation.
it’s light later now. that means we can go hike later in the day, after we’ve done all else that needs to be done. it means we can finish the day – whatever it’s been – with some time outside, some time on a trail, maybe some time watching the sun come down.
i feel worried these days. not just a little anxious. downright worried. every day something else in this country is blatantly being torn apart, shredded, trashed. the rule of law is disappearing. people are disappearing, democracy is disappearing.
but if you look at facebook, you will still see posts about dandelions and dogfood, early spring flowers and people on trips, concerts and recipes, memories and people eating. if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know.
that is the part that gets me.
it’s not because i don’t like dandelions or food or flowers or concerts or travel, and it’s not because I don’t see the value in celebrating the simplest “normal” pieces of life. it’s because it feels like there are people who do not care about the horror of what the dismantling of this country is wreaking. it feels like there are people who are just pretending it is not happening. it feels like people are sloughing off the absolute danger, the loss, the devastation. and i look around and wonder why.
the most obvious answer to the question – why aren’t we talking about this – is that a person voted for it. they want this destruction – which will always make my head spin. they feel righteous and elitist and entitled – deserving of being held above “all those other people” – you know, the women, the black and brown people, the lgbtq people, the people who worship differently, the people who came from a different place, the people who have less. it literally makes me sick to my stomach thinking about how many people feel this way – particularly people i have loved or thought i knew really well. the we-don’t-talk-about-this crowd is somewhat close-in and i am growing weary of tolerating their cavalier silence.
there are people – out there – who subscribe to this administration’s cold-hearted, soulless agenda, who are are pretending that there are “just a few kinks” that need to be worked out, who think that “great” is coming, who believe the narcissistic evil promises made to them actually are “great” things. i am astonished at their acquiescence to the annihilation of the ideals of this country, to the bowing idolatry they express to these vile efforts.
i guess another answer to the question – why aren’t we talking about this – is that there are people who are not paying attention to factual news. they are listening to and watching what could be called “state tv” and they have no real idea what is happening to the country. they are shielded by the thick grimy viscose membrane of misinformation. this also makes me feel ill – that people are not bothering to glean what is really happening here, just tooling along scarfing up hateful lies.
any way i sort it, i am feeling incredibly disheartened by the lack of communication about the destruction of this country. having conversation with these people is to speak about the most superficial of things, the stuff of small talk, the things you would talk about with the clerk at the cash register. and so – these forms of surface-only communication fall under the if-you-didn’t-know-you-wouldn’t-know category. and it makes me want to just scream – are you going to talk about this takeover of our country or what?????!!!
i wonder how many people are struggling – like me – only four months after the election, merely two months after the inauguration – to try and navigate the divisiveness and shockingly-earned mistrust of people in our very own communities that have come with this new administration of “public servants” who have no public-servant-bones in their heartless bodies.
i really do need to be out on the trail – watching my feet move and the sun sink into the horizon. i need the quiet and truth of nature, a reminder of how i fit into the order of things. i need to be around natural goodness and not intentional complicity. it is restorative and feeds the place that needs peace and the feeling of being one with the universe.
sometimes – these days – it is simply his smile that keeps us grounded.
sometimes – these days – it is a belly-belly or a dogga kiss that helps us feel our feet, centered in our home.
sometimes – these days – it is his sensitivity to the tenor of the room that keeps us from getting too loud, too angry, too upset.
a few days ago i had a very hard day. i’m guessing i am not out of the ordinary; i’m guessing this is not unusual – these days.
i felt – particularly after my revelations from my call with my dear old friend from new york – that we were on a tiny island, out of balance.
we – like you, i’m sure – have been through so much in the last few years. and, i guess, because we have been coast-ers (d the west, me the east) – more easily candid, despite whatever others’ reactions are to our tales – woe, included – we have shared about them – with family, with friends, with whomever chooses to read our blogs.
but we have found that sharing our intense feelings can be disconcerting. there is most definitely this thing in this part of the land that dictates what you share. if you don’t wish to tell how you feel, you just simply ignore the question about how you feel. it’s a weird phenomenon. and frustrating. it is hard to be an open book when others don’t crack open their binding.
and so – the other day – outside of the pure constant stream of consciousness d and i share with each other – i was pining for shared deep conversation, for shared grief, for the shared pondering of unanswerable questions, unfathomable challenges. i did not want pity. i wanted two-way sharing, raw human interaction. i wanted to cry and scream – both. i did cry. watching dogga watch me prevented me from screaming.
it feels absolute that we need to be in this chaos together. we need to join together in like-mindedness and push back against the continued takeover of our country. we need to share the gut-wrenching sorrow of losing family and friends to this pervasive illness of extremism. we need to share our worries about our future and the future of our children and our children’s children.
bottom line? we need to talk. because actually talking about it all doesn’t make it worse. it quite possibly helps. you know, the meeting-together, the walking-in-another’s-shoes thing, the heartfelt compassion, the reality check, the let’s-sort-this-together, the we-are-here-for-you. the two-way street.
it makes me absolutely crazy when people act like nothing is happening. i want to beg, “open your eyes! we need to talk about this!”
but – instead – there are a few we share with, a few we trust with our deepest musings, our biggest fears, the trauma we are all enduring, what is really happening in our very own personal lives. the rest – like many – we filter.
and in that very short list of whole-heart-sharers, dogga is one of them. he holds things in confidence and we can always count on him to react emotionally and with – seeming – empathy. like he gets it.
and then he smiles his getting-older smile at us – holding our hearts and reminding us that his unconditional love is unconditional.
time after time he saves the day. even in these days. every single day.
i’m quite sure we will hear these words – and any variation thereof – until our ears fall off.
if you have ever noticed, it is the very people who utter these words – again and again and again – who are the absolute least transparent, who bear the absolute least accountability.
it matters not where you hear it – institutions, organizations, the government – it matters not what position the person holds spewing these buzzwords – it matters not that they will never be transparent about their lack of transparency nor will they be held accountable for their lack of accountability – it is worthy of every eye roll ever invented.
these words are everywhere. really. everywhere.
and so is the hypocrisy. really. everywhere.
these words are red herrings. the canaries in the coal mine. and every red flag to which you might want to pay vigilant attention.
even back in the day the most prolific of composers knew the impact, they knew that one slice of melody could yield a plethora of music pieces, variation after variation.
ahhh, but these composers had no ill intent. they just knew that if you kept repeating the theme, people would pay attention, the melody would be stuck in their heads; it would be the thing listeners remembered.
funny that’s exactly what’s happening here too.
repeat it enough and people pay attention, it gets stuck in their heads. people remember it. people believe it. ding-ding-ding! they – those who issue these words with enmity and malice – win.
transparency and accountability.
the pressing question is whether YOU actually believe it.
in the most not-normal times, this quilt has seen us through. two broken wrists, the quilt. the covid pandemic, the quilt. getting fired, the quilt. our babycat dying, the quilt. losing three other positions between us, the quilt. a few other circumstances and initiatives that wouldn’t fall under any gollygee category, the quilt. it has been a mainstay.
and here we are.
and life is not normal.
it is an intense time. and it’s only been a week.
and, anytime i’ve forgotten for a moment or two – or maybe even an hour – it all comes roaring back. and i remember.
and then i remember that people chose this.
chose it.
and now they are acting as if it is all normal – as if they can’t see the band of cruelty that binds all the intention of this administration.
these are not golly-gee little-house-on-the-prairie times.
i viewed someone’s post on social media that stated we should all keep our political opinions to ourselves and post dog pictures instead.
i had…er…mixed feelings about this.
ok, so not really mixed.
this approach feels a tad bit pollyanna to me. a little sloughing-off of reality. perhaps a tiny bit delusional. not that I wouldn’t wish everything would be like that – all sweetness and everyone and everything light of spirit. but it isn’t. life is not normal now.
i would like to point out that lack of sharing honest information is how we got here. because of the lack of truthful information. because of the abundance of misinformation. because of the elitist-extremist-isolationist-bigoted blather that always seemed to be elevated on fox as powerful and all-knowing, the singular news source full of putrid propaganda…that is what brought us here.
so, i respectfully disagree with the post i viewed.
we are a country desperately in need of conversation and communication – and, whether you agree with someone or not, it’s pretty damn pretentious to think we all need to dumb it down – posting only fluff – to the exclusion of the tough stuff – that which is real.
social media is a place for us all to share life, what fun things we are doing, what work we are undertaking, what our children and their children are up to. a happy-go-lucky place to remember birthdays and anniversaries. a place to cheer on your sports team or ask for chiropractic recommendations. a place to brag. you might wish this to be merely a peaceful community with no fraught issues, no debatable topics, no what-the-hell-is-happening posts. but – just as important in this online world as positive chitchat – social media is an opportunity to reach out and ask questions, reach across divides and learn, reach compassionately to others, acknowledge struggle and pain, sort to ways we might all be life-giving. life is the current cruel chaos happening right here right now AND everyone’s dogs, my friend. social media is not a quilt.
when life is relatively normal it may be all well and good to not stir the pot, to post the quintessentially charming things. quite lovely, actually.
but when life – in these united states – is completely out of kilter, and nothing you have posted even nods to the chaos that is ensuing, nothing you have posted even makes mention of your horror at the demolition of this country, nothing you have posted even touches on the cruelty that is happening in our country – which is also your country – it makes me wonder what cave it is into which you have stuck your head.
and then i am rapidly brought back to reality.
there are those of you who wanted this. and so the reason you haven’t said anything about being horrified is because you aren’t.
you wanted all this.
agenda and project intentions about which people are afraid and hurting, clinging to the last of their freedom and rights.
and you wanted this.
people in your families will soon feel the impact of all this, the impact of unconscionable authoritarian, extremist rule.
and you wanted this.
so just know that when you post the gollygee things you are posting as if life is normal and everything is totally ok – i am here knowing you wanted all this and that you are not sorry and that you weren’t willing to be factually informed and you can’t be bothered to even pretend to be compassionate.
when you post on social media as if life is normal, it doesn’t make it normal.
when you post on social media as if life is normal, know that my heart is broken.
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.
reverse threading 