it is necessary to remember those whose lives were lost
Those who desired- not special treatment- but equal treatment
Access and Admittance
Sacrifice without Servitude
A place at the table and a room at the inn
And choices without the taint of self-righteous judgement
Day 4. Anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination. *The title is inspired by U2’s “Pride (In the Name of Love)”- one of my top favorite songs from my favorite band. They continue to rock on in my heart and soul!
Day 2. Emily made the necklace for me (she also wears one) as a Christmas gift. She is a talented artist, designing jewelry as a weaver and metalsmith at her Island Street Studio.
I ran this morning until it hurt. Perhaps I was inspired by my work colleague, M. whom I met on the trail somewhere after the 1 mile mark. She was heading North to Dunedin on a 30 mile run. We spoke at length about life as it is and the need for running. How we write lesson plans, letters, solve problems, and create new ideas as our feet guide us to known and often unknown destinations. Her goal inspired me to run further after a week of not running at all. It was completely unplanned; I surely had plenty of time-more time than usual last week to get in lots of running. Yet, I found myself letting things unfold. Yoga and chakra meditation really called my name. The weather was cool-very cool and windy- and I welcomed the chance for a hoodie and windbreaker to walk in on Spring Break.
Spending time with myself and loved ones down here was the goal. My stepdaughter and I enjoyed lunch and long walks and big talks together; we grew closer than ever. Emily was down for a family obligation and managed to drive the extra 115 miles to see where I live, accompanied by lovely Lillian, her daughter. Her mid-week visit filled my soul and ironically, made me feel more grounded here. Showing her and Lillian the sights of St. Petersburg was truly a thrill.
Mountain Women on the city streets!
On Friday, I spent the morning walking the beach at Indian Shores, listening and looking. Seashore treasures abounded:
Peace was at hand at hand-at least for a little while.
Saturday dawned and we headed for a run on St. Pete Beach, where my father lives. He thought only my husband would be out and said I was a “good surprise” so early in the morning. I decided to walk and talk with him. Simply wonderful! Later in the day, we joined him and others at a waterfront joint, enjoying the turquoise water, slow-moving boats and surfacing dolphins. We celebrated a traditional New England St. Patrick’s Day dinner that night at our house.
Still, the specter of insecurity persists, seeping into conversations in the midst of sunshine and laughter. I continue to resist, shining my own light, becoming the change I wish to see.
It was all about power. Creating it. Using it. Taking it from others.
~from “How the Light Gets In” by Louise Penney
Overheard in the grocery store check out line yesterday: “It’s been a long day, up early and I still have a ways to go.” I have fallen into the rabbit hole of overt political action; I am paying attention to an inner voice that leaves me with no choice but to speak up and contend with the dark forces operating within our country and beyond. The last four weeks have been mentally exhausting and at times frustrating, but also exhilarating.
Some may be surprised at our arrival at the current state of affairs; I am not. When I was in the midst of preparing to move in the spring of 2015, I came across a paper I had written for a graduate course entitled: “Reagan, the New Right and the Threat Against Feminism.” I wrote that paper in 1986. Unfortunately, the paper was lost but I do recall writing about the administration’s attempt to pare down and/or eventually eliminate the Department of Education and of its tenuous partnership with Christian Fundamentalists and their attempts to outlaw abortion and certain forms of birth control for women that they had deemed abortifacients. Sound familiar?
Since those seemingly halcyon days of youthful idealism and continued progressive push back against Christian fundamentalism, I have learned a lot. All along, I always thought it was about the legalization of abortion in 1973. In reality, it is more sinister. In fact, religious conservatives were supportive of abortion rights early on (http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2014/05/religious-right-real-origins-107133?o=0):
In 1971, delegates to the Southern Baptist Convention in St. Louis, Missouri, passed a resolution encouraging “Southern Baptists to work for legislation that will allow the possibility of abortion under such conditions as rape, incest, clear evidence of severe fetal deformity, and carefully ascertained evidence of the likelihood of damage to the emotional, mental, and physical health of the mother.” The convention, hardly a redoubt of liberal values, reaffirmed that position in 1974, one year after Roe, and again in 1976.
The tipping point for religious conservatives came when the IRS refused to grant Bob Jones University tax exempt status because it practiced racial segregation, a violation of the Civil Rights Act. At the time evangelicals believed that racial segregation was biblically based. In short, this prompted people like Paul Weyrich (co-founder of the Heritage Foundation), Jerry Falwell and others to jump on the political band wagon, find a cause that would unite evangelicals and then associate themselves with people whose values didn’t necessarily align with theirs but, who in turn, needed their votes in order to attain national power. In fact, as governor of California in 1967, Ronald Reagan actually passed a very liberal abortion law. The New Right’s association with the late president was nothing more than a marriage of convenience. This arrangement has been reignited in the latest presidential election with far more devastating and far reaching consequences for all the citizens of our great nation.
The Christian fundamentalist stand against abortion is nothing but a smoke screen for a more underhanded manipulation for absolute power:
In the last forty years, big money (and this means Religious Right Big Money as well-their organizations are run like corporations) has further infiltrated elections on all levels: local, state and national. We all know of the consequences of the Citizens United decision. But the devices of suppression and oppression were being put in place long before then. The Koch brothers and others like them have felt stymied by what they deem as over regulation by government agencies such as the EPA. They and their operatives have long had a hand in the creation of political movements such as the Tea Party and the selection of hard right candidates who will do their bidding (think of the State Republican Attorneys General and their ties to the energy industry and the subsequent approval of former Oklahoma AG Scott Pruitt):
And, in today’s news, a story of how of how current House Republicans are demanding climate change documents from the New York and Massachusetts Attorneys General (both Democrats), known as part of the “Green 20”:
Furthermore, the Religious Right’s current claims of religious freedom violations are disingenuous. For example, prior to the Supreme Court’s decision, Hobby Lobby covered birth control methods such as Plan B and ella. Yet, when the Affordable Care Act mandated coverage, they claimed that their right to practice their religion was being infringed upon. Hypocrisy at its best!
The Prevaricator-in-Chief is the epitome of the authoritarian(some claim militaristic) turn this country has taken. His chief strategist believes in a New World Order and a purging of political elites. And his Vice President is the Conservative Christian puppeteer. Pence believes in conversion therapy for gay people, said that same sex couples were a sign of “societal collapse” and voted against the Lilly Ledbetter Act for equal pay for women because he believes that two working parents leads to “stunted emotional growth for children” ( Gail Collins, New York Times). The elected officials in the House and Senate, however, have their own Machiavellian agendas to push through and willfully ignore the problems he is creating. Now that they want to actually enact laws, they are willing to put party over country:
We must act with greater moral courage than those who purportedly serve us. There are people who believe that their actions won’t make a difference one way or another. No matter which side your representative or senator falls on, he or she must hear from you! In fact, when I called Charlie Crist’s office one day last week, his staffer told me that we are making a difference. Bill Nelson’s staff is always gracious and patient; I know his votes match my views but I call anyway. More importantly, I still continue to call Senator Marco Rubio even though he clearly has put party over country and profits over people. And local officials matter as well. I am looking forward to meeting with my representative and senator during the Florida recess.
If we don’t stand up and fight, we are at the very least headed for a Corporate Fundamentalist Christian Theocracy. The evidence is clear that Democracy is in peril. Find your passion then find ways you can act upon it. It doesn’t take much time but if we don’t act, we will run out of time.
I am dedicating this post to my late mother, Pat, who would have turned 79 today. She remains with us still.
12 days feels like 12 years. Is this what it’s like to be in a boxing ring getting pummeled by your opponent? The daily news is like getting a dose of bad tasting medicine- except the symptoms of my illness are getting no relief. I was telling my husband on Monday that the feelings that I am currently experiencing are similar to the ones from a decade ago. The agony of my divorce and its aftermath played out in all kinds of excruciating ways over the course of four years. Sound familiar?
Then I remember that I survived and thrived because of my relentless vigilance in the face of overwhelming odds. I didn’t let the bastard break me and I am not about to let this one either! I spent Sunday calling Senators voicing my concern and opposition to the Previcater-in-Chief’s Cabinet nominees and his outrageous Executive Orders. I signed up for an event sponsored by our local League of Women Voters. Tuesday came. I talked with Emily who was hosting an action group with others up north. On Thursday she gave me ideas of how I can be effective efficiently. It was a God send.
It is difficult for me not to feel a sense of urgency. In my conversation with Jenn Wednesday, we shared our frustrations about our nation’s situation as well as our irritation with others who aren’t taking action. The truth is, we can’t expect everyone to jump in immediately- it doesn’t meant they are apathetic. In fact, they may be doing things to hold us up. Laura spends time meditating and praying for guidance from the Divine Mother. My husband gives me a soft place to land, a listening ear and delicious meals. He reminds me that I need to continue to live my life, to take time and be still, and that joy still exists along with the laundry! I continue to remain grateful for my work as an educator. I make a difference every minute of every day in the lives of young people. They are the starfish stuck in the sand. And we adult citizens are too. The beach is filled with miles of us. Still, we must continue this long journey together. We will despair and be tempted to surrender. We must be patient and prudent. If we take care of one starfish at a time, we can prevail.
You may ask what can I do that will have an impact? The simplest means is making a phone call to your local representative and/or Senator. This has been made so much easier by the blessed organizers out there. Here are some sites that will help you decide what you can do (with thanks to Emily!):
It’s been difficult to write these last few weeks; simmering anxiety and fitful sleeping have been challenges to keeping my thinking organized. Each day I awaken with a refrain from the Beatles song “A Day in the Life”: “I read the news today, oh boy…”
However, the world-wide marches on Saturday, January 21st unleashed a swell of positive emotions that I have been needing to experience during these dark days. Each was born of grass-roots ideas that gave way to events of unexpected proportions. Here in St. Petersburg, we had the largest march in the city’s history. My participation gave me renewed hope.
Still, there is an enormous amount of work to be done. Just seconds ago, the president gave the go ahead to the Dakota Access Pipeline. And here’s the thing: every time those of us whose class and gender and ethnicity and orientation achieve something close to full accessto our rights as citizens, they are eventually dismantled.
This sign at my march says it all:
o
We are in precarious times. The deck is stacked against all of us. Our work has been rebooted and reignited.
Last week I turned to the words of Reverend Martin Luther King for inspiration and motivation. DemocracyNow broadcasted the speech he gave at City Temple in London in December of 1964, just before he was to accept the Nobel Peace Prize.
Here is a portion of the speech that speaks to how I feel today:
We have heard and we have lived with the myth of time. The only answer that I can give to that myth is that time is neutral. It can be used either constructively or destructively. And I must honestly say to you that I’m convinced that the forces of ill will have often used time much more effectively than the forces of goodwill. And we may have to repent in this generation, not merely for the vitriolic words and the violent actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence and indifference of the good people who sit around saying, “Wait on time.”
Thanksgiving. A favorite holiday and this year a welcome respite from the cruel vagaries of the world. I had many conversations yesterday, of course. Two stand out because they are the inspiration for this latest post. In an exchange with my oldest son, he asked me if I had been writing lately. When I told him that I have been too overwhelmed by current events, he encouraged me to express myself. Later, after dinner, I was talking with one of our guests and sharing my fears. Wisely, she reminded me that those worries would be released into the universe. Instead, I would need to remain hopeful. I hope this latest musing is a positive beginning!
When I woke up this morning, I made my usual cup of coffee and then took it back to bed with me. Instead of reading the news like I have done every morning for years, I read a few chapters of a Louise Penney mystery (http://www.louisepenny.com/). Lately, I have straddled the line between the need to stay informed and the increasing anxiety, the nerve racking fear and the crushing depression of national shifts that I cannot stomach. I have been wanting to write posts for weeks now, but I have been afraid that I may slip into overwrought opinions about the presidential campaign, the resulting election, and now its early aftermath. These days, taking any public stand is risky business and an invitation for uncivil discourse and cruel judgement. But this is something I cannot avoid; I feel as if I might burst from lack of self-expression! Admittedly, I want my opinions to be thoughtful. Perhaps this is why I have kept quiet in my posts lately. I feared being less than meditative. Plus, I refuse to be categorized, stereotyped, or labeled as a particular ” kind of woman” when I openly state my feelings or express ideas that may be considered “non-traditional”. But I also refuse to bow to the obscene practice of the monolithic grouping of people. This idea has been publicly played out in order to stoke fear and to provide a false sense of renewed power to those who have felt marginalized and silenced for decades. I believe the cause of this splintering is based in the unrelenting greed of those whose silver spoons are still in their mouths. The ancient practice of Divide and Rule has cultivated a sense of distrust and hostility between and among our citizens in order to lay blame on -take your pick- feminists, black and brown people, immigrants, Muslims, LGBTQ, etc.
Hate, condemnation, suspicion, and negativity are easy paths to follow. They hold the deceitful promises of a return to the “good old days” (to which my stepdaughter once queried: “What do they mean, segregation?”). It is hard for me to fathom a return to a time when laws suppressing the rights of others in any and all forms will become the new normal. I have seen it being chipped away in seemingly harmless ways (i.e. new voting rights laws, women’s health care), and it is up to us to remain vigilant in the face of further future repression.
I believe that our purpose here on earth is to make it a better place to live. To not only raise up and help others, but to also take care of our precious resources in order for future generations to enjoy its unique beauty. We cannot dismiss other people as less worthy because of where they’re from, how they choose to worship, or whom they choose to love, or because they don’t look like us. It is simply wrong.
They are many people that I have met and know in my life who do not share the same viewpoints as I do. We agree to disagree and can also thoughtfully engage in discussions that help further an understanding of each others’ perspectives. We may hope to change another’s mind but no one is interested in changing laws that would suppress another citizen’s constitutional rights. Everyone has a story or two to tell that has helped bring them to their own set of beliefs. These personal tales of tragedy and triumph are essential to listen to and understand if we are to grow together and make the world better and more free for everyone.
I’ll close this piece with the grace I shared at the Thanksgiving table. Many thanks to Mary Luti, UCC Pastor and seminary educator (http://www.ucc.org/devotionals_by_mary_luti) for this gift to my email ‘s inbox yesterday:
for it’s an immeasurable gift to say grace with one eye on your neighbor, to give thanks with joy complicated by concern, to count your blessings while repenting your sins, to know yourself in a muddle, trying to be good. It means you’re awake and not sleeping, alive and not dead. It means God is poking away at you, and you’ve let God in.
How many of us awaken unconscious and unaware, deluged by the usual daily dread of work, caring for ourselves or loved ones or besieged by other obligations that pull at our energies before our feet have yet to hit the floor? I imagine many of you feel this way constantly, or at least from time to time-because really, who hasn’t?
We are only reminded of how fragile time is when a sudden illness or death or when Mother Nature’s fury unleashes herself on us, halting our daily routine in its tracks and-at its worst- upending our life for a long period of time.
I have often written about staying present, mostly when I am aware of being on the verge of a major life transition. During this juncture, I want to capture every moment, knowing that it will soon become just a memory. Then, when my life becomes more ordered and wrapped in routine, I quickly forget to take things in and savor what’s right in front of me, even if it’s not particularly exciting or positive-like being stuck in traffic at 2 o’clock in the afternoon.
Of course, I am not advocating that you should rejoice when you’re in gridlock; I remember being aware of how much time was wasting away during the 65 minutes it took me to get to my destination on Tuesday and how angry it was making me!
Then Hermine began to whisper in our ear Wednesday, staying well into Friday afternoon. Schools were closed; thus giving me an unplanned five-day weekend. I had much to do; the start of any school year is always overwhelming. The days fly by and there is truly never enough time in a work day to keep organized and plan ahead. Much is left to be done after hours.
I recall waking up Thursday in a state of agitation. My thoughts were scattered. Speed work had been cancelled the previous morning due to thunderstorms. But early Thursday arrived with what was to be a brief respite. I knew a good workout would begin to clear my head. Sure enough, it was exactly what I needed! Not long into the run, I looked up and saw a great blue heron, my steady animal sign that reminds me to be patient. I saw still another wading at the edge of a verdant pool in someone’s front yard. I sent out a prayer of gratefulness to the universe; this is exactly what I needed to be doing! My restless night and worries sloughed away.
While it is important to keep the boundaries of home and work separate, I felt as if Thursday and Friday were unexpected presents-not only to relax- but to gather myself a bit, work wise. I slowly began to check off the tasks that had been stuck in my head overnight. The sense of urgency disappeared; my mind was clear and a weight was lifting.
I write this not as a reminder to be constantly productive but as mental cairn to be open to moments that point us in the right direction. The signs are always revealing themselves; we just need to pause, take a breath and look around.
(This image was taken by me a month ago. However, the post and the image were also inspired by Emily. She was out on a local hike up north yesterday and she texted me this message: “Just saw 2 blue herons flying at Weir Hill. Cool breezes, warm sun, blue sky. It’s my church today. Peace, sister.”)
Rising in the early morning dark has its benefits. When I set out in the humid air this morning, I was blessed to see the full Sturgeon moon. Since moving here, I don’t think I have really see one in all its glory until today. I was lucky enough to have a regular monthly siting when I lived up North. Less artificial light and a more rural setting really spoiled me in that regard. The whole house would light up and I often would go outside for a little while just to look. In fact, the boys and I even went “owling” in the deep woods on a frigid and snow-filled January night. We had no need for flashlights to guide us. Incredible memory!
Forgive me, I digress…. Recently, I have felt much like the sturgeon itself, at least when it comes to running. I feel ancient, that’s for sure, but certainly not threatened or endangered as these unique fish once were. Still, I was in need of a comeback, much like them. I needed to take action. Yet, somehow I lacked the motivation to do it all by myself. So, imagine my delight when just 3 weeks ago, I came upon a group of people doing speedwork just one mile from my house! I was even more excited when they invited me to join them the following week. It turns out that the guy who coaches the group lives in the apartment complex next to my house and works at the running store where I buy my shoes! I have 2 weeks under my belt, and while getting up @ 4:30 to be ready for a 5:30 run is not everyone’s idea of fun, I really look forward to it. Today I was asked if I have a next race. I don’t. My goal is to get out of my running rut and feel better about myself and my body. If the work reveals a race to me, I’ll go with it. Right now, I’m just happy to be in the peace of the morning with just the moon as my guide.
Building A Life Of Hope 
