Thursday, August 17, 2017

It gave me pause.

I don’t know, friends. 

 Just when I think he can’t possibly go any lower, 
he proves me wrong. 

 I keep telling you there aren’t any words to describe 
how disheartened I am by the current inhabitant of the White House 
and all the moral midgets 
who stand silently by his side 
while he attempts to destroy
everything decent and honorable about our country.
 Maybe I should just say there aren't any new words. 

 I chastise myself, 
thinking I should know better.
#45 will NEVER change; 
he will ALWAYS be a con man and a liar. 
 Knowing HE won’t change, 
I keep thinking I should.

I shouldn’t watch so much (or any) news.
I should shake my head and let the inanity roll off my back 
rather than scream at the screen until my blood pressure reaches stroke level. 
I should retire to my happy place, read and pray – for the next 7 years, 
accepting what I can’t control 
and letting God be God. 

But it’s not working.

I went to church early on Sunday morning 
after being overwhelmed all weekend by news of the tragedy and horror 
unfolding in Charlottesville. 

I went early because I knew I needed extra time and space to pray -
for forgiveness and for a softening of my heart. 

You see, the reality is that as I watched the news of people with my skin color, 
carrying tiki torches and spewing hatred for anyone other than them,
other than us
my anger grew
and, along with the anger and disgust, 
there was hatred. 

Seriously, my anger matched theirs; 
it could have grown legs and marched in goose step 
parallel to them,
shouting different phrases
but radiating hatred all the same.

I HATE Nazis’, white nationalists, the KKK, racists, 
all the people who encourage or tolerate them 
and whoever else considers themselves part of the so called ‘alt-right’ –
whatever the hell that is -
beyond a pathetic attempt to make themselves sound more palatable and benign.

My hatred quickly broadened into hating all confederate Southerners 
because, let’s face it, if they hadn’t existed 
we wouldn’t have had the damn Civil War to begin with, 
let alone having to deal with the so called ‘dilemma’ of what to do with their damn sculptures. 

Frankly, I don’t think it’s a dilemma at all. 
They’re statues celebrating traitors who sought to tear our country apart. 
We wouldn’t put up a statue of Timothy McVey in Oklahoma 
or the 26 terrorists who flew into the Trade Center on 9/11 in NYC.
Why have the likes of Robert E Lee, Sherman, Jefferson Davis
 and all the other secessionists around? 
They wanted to leave this union– so leave!!

 Oh, and while I was at it, 
I threw evangelical Christians into my Hate bucket as well;
those miscreants who have contorted the gospel, 
the ‘good news’, 
into being nothing more than a message of exclusion, blame and inequality. 
I really hate those right wing nut-jobs 
because they’ve co-opted all I hold sacred 
and made ALL Christians suspect.

As I sat and wept,
I realized that all my hate 
made me exactly like 'them'.

This isn't a false moral equivalency of saying that 
what I consider to be appropriate disgust and moral outrage
directed at the actions of people who would deprive other human beings 
of the very act of existence
is the same.
It's not to say I won't continue to fight against the forces - and faces - of evil.

But the feelings,
the ease with which they sprung up,
and the depth and intensity of them
 did make me slip off my high horse 
for a few minutes
as I fought against the all too human tendency 
to become the evil we deplore.
God, it's never been this hard to be a citizen of the United States.

It's exhausting.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

We need more stillness and more shining

When I am among the trees, 
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines, 
they give off such hints of gladness.
 I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment, 
and never hurry through the world 
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,”
they say, “and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine.”

Mary Oliver
if there could be a beach at the end,
that would be perfection! 

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Thoughts while walking in the neighborhood

 All is not as it seems.

 The message:

We’re welcoming.

 We offer rest for the weary; sit awhile.

We value leisure.

We’re the kind of people who sit and have meaningful conversations with each other.

In a frenetic world of people struggling just to survive, we can afford to sit back and relax.

The reality:

OMG, are you kidding me?
Between work, after school activities for the kids and our meetings
for various community and church groups at night,
who has time to sit?

I have work emails to catch up on, a report still to write
and then we’re catching up on missed episodes of GoT.
I can’t do any of that outside!

I’m not sitting outside;
there are bugs, it’s humid, there’s a breeze;
my neighbors will judge me
(on my clothes, what I’m drinking, my thighs, my hair –
you know what humidity does to it, right?)

Why are you sitting on my property?
Do you know you’re trespassing?
I’m giving you 5 seconds to get off my lawn before I call the police.

We can barely manage a few sentences without prompts from our cell phones
or the constantly blaring TV,
telling us what to comment on
and what to be enraged about.

We haven’t scratched the surface of our relationship in years;
we don’t dare.
And, if we were crazy enough to try,
we certainly wouldn’t make ourselves that vulnerable in public!

I can’t sit outside –
my allergies are bad,
there’s carbon monoxide from the passing cars and buses
(do you know there still are buses?
There are, well, mainly to bring our cleaning people in from other neighborhoods).

There could be PBC’s in the plastic of the chairs;
there could be formaldehyde in the lumber used to make the chairs;
there are mosquitoes – they could carry the Zika virus or malaria!

It’s dangerous outside.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

The Main Event

Let's face it,
there are times when you want sun -
when you want high, white, fluffy clouds, 
temps in the mid-70's,
low humidity
and cool breezes off the Lake -
the quintessential Michigan summer day.

And the Universe delivered.

I can't say enough good things about the venue.

It was beautifully simple
and simply beautiful.
I can't imagine a more perfect setting for a wonderful celebration of love.
 The love between two people,
the love two families have for both of them
and the love two families have for each other.
 And even though there were members of our family that couldn't be with us,
we know they were there in spirit
because love endures
and isn't limited by time or space.
It was a blessing and honor 
to witness the start of their new life 

Monday, August 7, 2017

A few hours north

didn't help with the weather
but I refused to be intimidated by rain.
 I'm not made of sugar;
I know I won't melt
and there was beauty to be enjoyed - 
natural and man made;
all lovingly curated.

It was lush, verdant
and oddly zen -
all at the same time.

It was a continuation of what I needed.

A reminder that a day doesn't have to be sunny to be perfect.