THE NIGHT BEFORE...

 I don't really know what to say here.  It just seems like some thoughts, however confused and incomplete, should mark this occasion.  Tomorrow is Election Day.  But really we have been participating in an "election season" for weeks.  Tomorrow is merely the last voting day, not the first or only one.

Many states have done early voting for years either in person or by absentee ballot. Our state has been a vote-by-mail state since 2011; we receive our ballots about two weeks before election day and can vote up to midnight (postmarked or dropped at Dropbox) on Election Day. This year with the pandemic raging many more states have gone to vote by mail, some for the first time.  There are various new rules in place about when the ballots must be returned: some postmarked by election day and some returned by election day.  

Voter suppression tactics are rampant.  

Republican party bosses are taking counties and states to court to try to curb counting some ballots they deem 'late' or in defiance of some silly rule.  For example, even a Republican-appointed judge in Texas ruled that they cannot throw out nearly 130,000 ballots they say were returned inappropriately at a drive through dropbox location, which had previously been approved.  The Republicans then took the case to appeal at a Federal District Court where the conservative judge also ruled against them.  These lawsuits are frivolous and meant to slow the process down and sew seeds of doubt in the election process.

Tactics like these are happening especially in swing states and in areas where there is a majority people of color -- those who typically vote Democratic.  Closing polling places is also a favorite gambit -- creating geographical and time barriers to voting.  Voters must stand in long, long (6, 8, 10, 12 hour) lines to cast a ballot at the one remaining polling place.  Famously, an Administration hack was appointed Post Master General recently and he immediately dismantled sorting machines in certain post offices and removed street corner mailboxes as well.  He declared no more overtime to get mail delivered on time and the mail delivery has slowed to a crawl in some areas of the country to thwart mail-in voting.  

All of this and so, so much more is providing a greater, not lesser,  motivation for folks to be sure to vote, to be sure nothing stops anyone from casting their ballot, to be sure not to wait until election day to have their say.  Nearly 100 million people have already voted!  This is nearly 2/3 of the total vote in 2016.  We don't know what this means for the outcome, of course, but it bodes well we think, and at least demonstrates the determination of voters this year.  Why? 

The past four years have been a nightmare of chaos at the top levels of our government.  Norms, laws, values, traditions have been denigrated and turned on their heads.  Hate speech, name calling, lying, deception, gas-lighting, and corruption have been daily occurrences.  Americans are divided by ideology, culture, and deep dislike for one another (not to mention the casual and overtly intentional acting upon the racism, sexism, homophobia and xenophobia some thrive on.)  Many of us feel exhausted.  Many of us are not sure what to do if he wins another term, or even if he refuses to leave in defeat, as he has stated.  

On the other hand, many believe the lies they've been told that Democrats are closet socialists and are out to destroy America.  So they are motivated to "save" their country too.  

But here's what I'm thinking tonight, from my perspective:  

I'm amazed at the way so many have fought for a chance to vote him out, to vote early, to stand in long lines, to be undeterred. 

I'm grateful for wise, articulate, caring, compassionate people who will not give up, who will lead, and follow, and create, and keep going.  

I'm grateful for the people I've worked with to write letters and postcards to Get Out TheVote and for those who have made calls, sent texts, waved signs, reached out via social media, made contributions -- who have sacrificed their time, talent, and treasure to try to ensure a change for the better.

I'm grateful for the Facebook groups, the historians, the commentators, the people I will never know but who make up those with whom I am aligned and from whom I've gained knowledge, strength, and support.  

I'm grateful for the free press, for reporters who have been denigrated and threatened every single day and have still done the hard work of unearthing all the wrongdoing and letting us know about it.  

I'm grateful for Democratic elected officials who did every single thing they could to thwart this administration's wrongdoing even knowing they did not have the political power to really stop him; they fought with what they had and made sure everyone knew what was happening in spite of their best efforts.  

I'm grateful to know there are millions of American citizens who are just fine with a racist authoritarian in the White House.  I need to stop living in a fantasy of believing we are all in agreement on values; we are not.  I'll never again believe in the inherent goodness and rightness of the United States of America, believing as I did until 2016, that good people would not let a bad government survive and thrive.  They will and they will cheer for it.  

I'm grateful I now know how fragile our democracy is and how easily it can be lost. 

I'm cautiously hopeful about Biden/Harris winning the election.  And like many, the PTSD of 2016 kicks in like a bad luck charm the minute I express that optimism.  There is so much pain to overcome.

So, bottom line, I am grateful to believe, still, that fighting for diversity, equality, compassion, and democracy is a courageous act and that no one I know is giving up on that.  No matter what happens tomorrow, we are in this together.  We will get through and we will persevere.  No matter what happens tomorrow good people of goodwill will not be defeated.  Love wins.  Eventually, always, love wins. Let's start tomorrow.

At least, that's the view from here...©

THE SACRAMENT: UPDATED

In October 2012 I wrote most of what follows as the Obama/Romney election drew near.  I am updating it for 2020 with just a few tweaks.  For example, then I said I didn't like the new idea of mail-in ballots.  Now I love voting at home.  And this year, with the Covid 19 pandemic raging, there will be more mail-in voting in more states than ever before.  I also thought that 2012 was a very important election, and of course it was.  They all are.  But nothing in my lifetime compares to 2020.  

The hyperbolic declaration of "the most important election in our lifetime" finally lives up to the hype.  This is definitely it.  Our United States is anything but united and our Republic is in a world of hurt, as the tether to anything resembling democracy hangs by an ever thinning thread.  The current president, elected by the Electoral College -- not the majority of the people, has snubbed his nose at norms, values, laws, precedents, and the very Constitution, abetted by leaders of the Republican party such that we are now seen as pitiable by many countries, not mighty.  Our allies have gone silent, our enemies emboldened, our people violently divided.  Many of us feel we've been living with an immature, cruel, gaslighting, lying, psychologically abusing president and those who should be there to stop him and protect us have turned a blind eye at best, aided him at worst.  Yes.  This is important.  

My ballot arrived on Friday and I voted, as I did in 2012 when I wrote the original version of this post, but this time I sent up an extra prayer to go along with my sacred ritual.

THE SACRAMENT:

We are 16 days away from the 2020 Presidential election.  Everybody is pretty much sick of politics at this point.  Me included, even though presidential election years are like Mardi Gras to me.  Spectacle, tradition, ritual, absurdity, and at base deeply important – even “religious”.  I treat voting like a Sacrament.

Our state went to an all mail-in ballot voting system in 2011.  At first I didn't like it because I had loved going to the polls on Election Day.  It was high school civics class come to life.  My polling place was the local elementary school where my boys were students.  I saw familiar kids, teachers, neighbors, and poll-workers – a true sense of community.  I loved being handed my ballot and walking to the booth to cast my votes amid the hubbub of activity around me in the school cafeteria.  It reminded me why I was voting at all.  I loved getting my “I VOTED” sticker, which I wore proudly the rest of the day, like ashes on my forehead.

Now I have a different voting experience.  My ballot arrives in the mail about 2 weeks before the election.  I don’t open it until the day I set aside for voting.  At that point I sit at the dining room table with my Voter’s Pamphlet and a cup of coffee.  I become quiet, focused, and intent on making my final decisions.  I might read once more about each initiative, the “for” and “against” arguments.  I might read once more the candidates statements.  And then I fill in the bubble next to the name of the one I’ve chosen to vote for with great care, ensuring the little oval is completely filled in with no extraneous marks.  I feel like the altar guild ladies preparing for communion.  Everything just so.  Because I want to be sure my vote will count – no errors.  Then I put the ballot in the envelope and sign my name carefully where indicated.  Instead of mailing it, which I could, I drive to County Building Dropbox downtown, to slide my envelope into the slot, ensuing my vote is delivered by my own hand.  Amen.

This may sound seriously neurotic.  To me it feels seriously patriotic.  Voting is a right, a responsibility, and above all, a privilege.  I think it is the most amazing thing, this representative form of government of ours.  It’s broken now, I know that.  Money, lies, betrayals, foreign attacks, gerrymandering, voter suppression, apathy, cynicism…it’s all in stark evidence this year.  That makes me sad for our country, for our democracy.  But I won’t give up.  I still believe my vote counts.  The only way we lose this grand experiment, this model of democracy that people in other lands are literally dying to emulate, is to stop voting.

My vote is my prayer of thanks for our nation's flawed, but visionary founders; for those soldiers who fought for independence and freedom;  for the women who marched and were jailed and tortured to win me, their sister, the right to cast a ballot alongside men; for the Freedom Riders who stood shoulder to shoulder with their brothers and sisters to desegregate the south and eventually win the right to vote for all.  Our history is about preserving – and serving – this big, messy, majestic United States of America.

My vote is also my prayer for hope for the future.  It really does matter who is in the White House and what that person’s vision and leadership will manifest.  It really does matter who is in the Congress and whether their positions on issues, which will become the laws we must all obey, are those which will benefit all Americans.  It really does matter who sits on the Supreme Court and is the final arbiter of dispute, interpretation, and enactment of those laws.  Our vote is our voice, representing our values and world view.  Who we vote for says almost everything about who we are and what vision we hold for future generations.

How can we do anything less than to cast a vote for those who are most likely to embrace the inherent dignity of every person within our borders and set policy that will respect, uplift, and benefit every one of us?  How can we do anything less than to take this right seriously, cast our vote joyfully, and shout “Halleluja!” on Election Day? 🙏🏽🇺🇸

At least, that’s the view from here…© 

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

THIS IS AMERIKA

Heavy sigh.

I have not felt like writing.  I envy my blogger friend who writes religiously (well, she'd take exception with that term; let's say regularly) whether she feels like it or not.  She is devoted to her writing schedule.  Plus, she finds everyday, funny, quirky things to write about.  Me? Not so much. I wait for inspiration, or at least a building up of "writing tension" that explodes onto the page (like today).  And lately not all that much feels funny to me, so I appreciate her making me smile all the more.

We still have a pandemic, which is getting worse.  We still have a lunatic authoritarian president, who is getting worse.  We still have social unrest in protest of generations of racial discrimination and violence, with mostly peaceful protestors, but not always.  And worse, the aforementioned authoritarian president has taken to sending unidentified security forces, dressed in camouflage and armed with "non-lethal" (but still blinding in one case) rubber bullets, into "Democrat led" cities to "restore order".  Only they make it more unstable and violent, subduing with tear gas and arresting protestors and observers without cause. Literally no one knows who these forces are, nor the men wearing the camo.  There is no identifying information as to agency or names on uniforms or vehicles.  They are there uninvited by local officials or law enforcement; some cities have sued the Administration to attempt to get them out.  This is Amerika.

So, I've been a little depressed.

I thought this would be the Summer of Political Action, gearing up for November.  This time it really is the most important election of our lifetimes...maybe generations.

Yet, here we are instead, arguing and polarized over whether it is an infringement on individual freedoms to be told to wear a mask, maintain physical distancing, and stay home, OR, whether these science-based recommendations and mandates are kind, compassionate, and necessary acts, as hospitals are filled to capacity, health care workers are so far beyond exhausted they are in tears on the nightly news begging people to follow the recommendations, and millions are suffering and dying.  The anti-maskers (including the lunatic president) who want to go to rallies, party, gather in larger groups and stand too close are helping extend the pandemic within the U.S., which is now a pariah in the world, where most countries have closed their borders to American citizens.  This is Amerika. 

When I started writing about his Covid-19 pandemic in early March, here were the stats I recorded in a blog post:

Worldwide: 100,000 cases; 3,408 deaths

United States: 233 cases; 12 deaths

Washington State: 39 cases; 10 deaths (in one long-term care facility, an early epicenter)

My county: 8 cases (including the very first Covid confirmed case in the U.S.; 0 deaths

Here are today's numbers, 4.5 months later:

Worldwide: 15.5 million cases; 634,000 deaths

United States: 4,024,492 cases; 143,868 deaths (cases and deaths the worst, by far, of any country in the world -- including people I know personally)

Washington State: 50,009 cases (including one of my sons); 1,482 deaths

My county: 4,562 cases; 182 deaths

There is no sign of this abating in the U.S.; our state is on the upswing like so many others. That's discouraging because our state was an early adopter of shutting down -- closing businesses and public places, closing schools, urging mask wearing (although no mandating it until far too late in my opinion).  Other states (especially in the south where there is apparently a neurotoxin in the water that effects the rational thinking centers of the brain in nearly all elected officials) didn't close down completely at all, or if they did, they opened up way too fast and too soon, resulting in the spikes we see across southern swath of the United States.  But even more progressive states like California, Oregon, and Washington (and others) contain large enough numbers of deniers who are screaming about their rights to assemble and to NOT wear masks, that the rest of us are endangered too.

So, I've been a little depressed.

There IS still an election in 102 days (but who's counting?) but it seems like an abstraction.  No big campaign rallies (well the lunatic president has held a few, against unanimous advice from health experts, but poor attendance and subsequent covid spikes of attendees seems to have cooled the ardor for now.)  Party conventions will be held online (although again, lunatic president still thinks he can address his adoring fans in person.)  Foreign influence and cyber attacks aimed at spreading disinformation and creating chaos and division are in full force since this Administration took almost no action to stop this after the debacle of 2016.  Voter suppression is in full steam ahead mode with some states refusing vote by mail (even when coming out to vote in a pandemic could kill you), and polling places are being shut down in some areas with large populations of brown and black people, making for 8 hour long lines to get into the few polling sites left open.  This is Amerika.

I'm running out of steam, as I do more easily these days.  I must face the unfathomable fact that I feel beaten up, beaten down, bloodied, and exhausted by the last four years of political (and personal) challenges.  My energy for the fight comes only in fits and starts with long pauses for sitting in my garden and/or binging on the TV Series du Jour Hub and I have decided to spend our evenings watching, popcorn bowls on our laps.

I feel like I will still rally for the cause eventually, but to do what?

I have no interest in talking myself blue trying to change hearts and minds -- they are unchangeable.

I have no interest in cold-calling voters; my introverted self has become even more so.  (The very best part of "stay at home" orders is that every single day I feel overwhelmingly relieved that I don't have to go anywhere, or do anything, or see anyone that I don't want to!)

I have no interest in attending rallies (Covid fears and inertia).

So I write postcards to voters for various organizations who are doing distance GOTV (Get Out The Vote) work.  I read, listen, watch, stay informed.  I post to social media.  I vote.

My primary ballot is sitting right next to my computer and when I sign off here, I will vote in the statewide races that are essential to moving us in the right direction.  Then I'll hold my breath to hear the results.  I take nothing for granted anymore.  So much that I thought I knew, could count on, believed in is in tatters.

I've been a little depressed.

This is Amerika.

At least, that's the view from here...©

REMINDER: SAY NO

Taking a break for a minute from travel reporting to ponder what commitment means.

This is the Last Weekend before the mid-term election.  We've been waiting two very long and troubling years for this shot at a do-over.  Of course, the presidency isn't at stake, but we have a chance at electing a Congress that might do its checks and balances job if the Dems succeed in winning one or both of the Houses.  Big governors races and state house races hang in the balance too.  It all matters.

Hub and I and a partial handful close friends have been in total immersion for the past two years, worrying about, working on, and committing significant time to political actions.  We are all tired.  We all need a break.

But Hub is out right now in the pouring rain canvassing again, as he's done nearly every day for the past month (and before that gathering signatures all summer!), to try to pass a state-wide initiative to place a carbon fee on big polluters to fund clean energy development.   I got trained to do Canvass Training for volunteer canvassers and we opened our home to be a Pop-Up Canvassing location every weekday afternoon and twice on Saturdays and Sundays.  People were to sign up, come to be trained, pick up materials, and go out doorbelling.

We've had only a handful of sign-ups, three active canvassers, and a couple of no-shows -- one guy signed up three times and no-showed every time, even though Hub called to confirm with him and he assured us he'd be here.  It's been frustrating, sitting here waiting for our canvassers to show up, training materials at the ready.  But we were here because we said we'd be here.  We cancelled plans, altered our schedules.  Hub went out alone every day, because he'd made a commitment to the campaign...and to himself.

We did all of this because we'd made a commitment to do so.  I made the commitment to people who were counting on me to follow through on what I said I'd do.  I made a commitment to myself to do all I could, and that commitment has resulted in lots of self-judgment today.  Did I REALLY do all I could?

Commitment.  I take that word so seriously that oftentimes it's to my detriment.  My commitments have too often become burdens.  I notice how others carry their commitments. They either never commit to anything or keep their options open with a non-committal "maybe".  Some commit then bail out without a backward glance or second thought.  I've been very judgmental of people like this.

I found myself in tears earlier today because I feel like I'm failing at the mid-term Finish Line because of how much I hate phone banking, but know I should do it.  I think of all the ways in which I could have been more active, more effective than being the Queen of FB posts trying to provide information and motivation for others to take actions too.  I donated money.  I wrote over 200 postcards to likely Democratic voters on behalf of candidates all over the country.  I attended meetings, and trainings, and rallies.  I wrote a letter to the editor (because I said I would when asked at a training) and edited Hub's Guest Commentary for the local paper.  I prepared materials for canvassing and wrote personal emails to 60 friends to urge them to vote for our initiative.  But today I trouble myself that I only did the easy stuff; I didn't challenge myself enough -- didn't do the dreaded doorbell or phone call thing on behalf of candidates I support.

My new commitment after the election Tuesday is to make no ongoing commitments beyond self-care.  I'm committing to my yoga class and a few strength classes at the Y.  I've got a doctor's appointment and I plan to get a massage.  I'll make coffee dates with friends, but only a day or two in advance.  For the foreseeable future I want everything on my calendar to be able to be changed if I change my mind.

I need to take a break from commitment as burden.  I know I sound like a bit of a whiner here.  Not intended.  What I really feel is the lifting of a weight.

There are unexpected lessons in everything we do.  I have killed myself by degrees with commitments for years -- to family, work, church, "causes", groups, and yes, politics at various times.  I commit to one thing and that leads to dozens more things in service to doing my best by the one thing I committed to; if my commitment to the one thing is to be meaningful and complete.

The past two years of trying to rally the troops, to create Resistance/Support groups, to motivate, to act on an obsessive need to do something in the face of what I consider to be an unfettered slide into authoritarianism has been frustrating.  I've not been able to understand how others can just go on with their lives as if nothing awful is happening, even when they agree it is awful.  But I want to slow down and try to get it.  Slow down and watch how others manage their lives with more ease.  I might learn from them to take commitment much, much more lightly.

If anything, I know I need to set a boundary for myself.  I need a "safe word".  I think that word will be NO.  I'll let you know how it goes.....if I feel like it. 😉

At least, that's the view from here...©

ADDENDUM:  OK.  I didn't mean this post to be a cry for advice, attention, affirmation, or encouragement.  But that's what I got from some quarters, so thanks, but really what I was trying to convey was my own inability to hold a healthy boundary and by sharing that, perhaps others could relate and not feel so crazy out there.  That's mostly what I hope the blog will create -- connection and commonality around the human condition.

Also, we lost the Initiative campaign and I cried for 24 hours and ranted about stupid people and lamented that not enough people cared to help us...blah blah blah.  But we will not give up.  Also the Blue Wave continues to crest as late vote counts are tallied and while some major races were losses (Beto -- see you in 2020), Dems handily won back the House (with a huge influx of women and people of color) and I cannot wait until January when checks and balances return to our government.  Hey, current president....Winter is Coming!

NOT HOLDING MY BREATH

It's election day for local races in our area. There is a woman I'm supporting for Mayor and a young man I'm supporting for City Council.  They are both progressive, with ideas for moving past the stodgy good old boy network here and bringing new life and vitality to city government in our city, which is growing in exciting ways, full of urban challenges, and still in some ways stuck in the last century.  I hope they will win.  And I'm not holding my breath.

A year ago, I was dressed in my Pantsuit Nation pantsuit, planning my election night victory party.  About this time in the afternoon a year ago I was euphoric about what I knew was just hours away...our first woman president and a woman I supported and admired at that.  We all know how that turned out.

There are days (OK, every day) when I am still suffering from shock.  I feel like my life turned inside out last November.

Everything I believed about my brother/sister Americans was proven wrong: Millions of them are perfectly OK with a sexual predator, racist, money-grubbing, corrupt, malignant narcissist in the White House.

What I thought I knew about my country was proven wrong: Patriotism doesn't extend much beyond flags and songs; voting is optional and some citizens bothering to educate themselves to be informed and not influenced by obvious media manipulations is rare.

The idea that even if lawmakers disagree on policy, but will definitely come together for the good of the nation when our ideals, norms, and even laws are disregarded to the detriment of the majority was a naive belief:  Partisanship and donor-pleasing is way more important than democracy.

No more starry-eyed optimism for me.  The past year has been a daily horror show of disappointment, disgust, and dismay.

So, I identified myself with the Resistance and wrote my letters, made my calls, marched in my marches, waved my signs, gathered with other activists for encouragement and strategizing.   I did as the Resistance instructed and got involved locally in races that actually effect my everyday life in my city and county.  But dirty political shenanigans have turned up here as well and I have to wonder how many will not bother to seek the truth, will buy the line of bull they see online, will just sit this one out.  (Voter turnout for the Primary for the election today was 24%.  Yep.  24% bothered to care a whit about who would run their city for the next four years.)

I'm going to my Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction meditation class tonight (read all about it on my Yoga blog) and when I get home, I'll flip on the TV and catch the election results from across the nation and in my own backyard.  I hope the good guys win.  But I'm not holding my breath.

At least, that's the view from here...

P.S.  I WAS WRONG!!!!!!!  Tuesday Night's election results were heartening and even joyous in many races across the country in cities, counties, states north, south, east, and west.  Get this...
women ran and won -- including a woman who decided to run when (and she beat him!) an incumbent Tweeted that he hoped all the women in the women's march would be home in time to make dinner.  B-bye, asshole.  And a transgender woman won, beating the guy who introduced and touted the "bathroom bill" which outlawed a transgendered person from using the public restroom of their choice.  Another transgendered woman won in her race, a Sikh man (first ever) won in his race, black men and women won, an anti-NRA, gun safety advocate beat a pro-gun guy.  Seattle elected a Lesbian mayor, and Washington flipped the only district where a Republican gave the Statehouse a majority, and now we join Oregon and California to form the "Blue Wall" on the west coast of states who have Democratic Governors, Statehouses, and Attorneys General.

In my local races, alas, my first-timer City Council candidate lost, but my incumbent won.  The Mayor's race is still too close to call, the two women separated by a mere handful of votes.  The worst result was a neighboring town electing the Trump equivalent as Mayor over an imminently qualified, experienced, and fine woman who happens to be my friend and yoga studio owner where I practice and write my other blog.  She has been on the Council for years and has served as Mayor there and it stymies me how his lies and innuendoes and dirty campaigning won the day....reminiscent of last November. Still...overall, my pessimism was proven wrong in a sweep of national activist voting.  Resistance Rising!

At least that's (the morning after) view from here...©

EMBRACE COURAGE

Kauai feels like a long way from Washington DC, not just in miles but in psychic energy.  I read through my news sites and FB feed, I tune into Rachel and the guys on MSNBC and it all feels so distant, less immediate.  The sun shines here, the ocean waves crash, the pool beckons; most people are happy and enjoying their vacations.  Which is real?

Part of this trip for me is to find balance and focus for my life right now.  November 8th was a jolting and overwhelming emotionally devastating experience and nothing that's happened since has helped to assuage that shock and hurt.

I find myself, and others of similarly gentle and sensitive natures, dramatically impacted every single day and infused with a sense of ... dare I say it?... hatred for this president I call 45* (45th Pres.*elected with a minority of the popular vote.)  I simply don't usually hate people; I always try to be empathetic, even if I put some in the "not my type/disagree/don't like" column.  But this guy?  He makes my gut ache, my heart race, my fists clench.  Fight or flight?  FIGHT!  He represents and acts out every single horrible impulse of men who I had hoped had been neutralized by any progress we may have made in the past few decades.  It's as if the monster of misogyny, self-aggrandizement, selfishness, ignorance, and entitlement has arisen and taken over the world.  And he did it with the help of fellow Americans, many of them women, some of whom I love.  The dismay (far too soft a word) I feel is indescribable.

My Mindfulness practices are being put to the test and found wanting.  I'm having trouble meditating and staying in the moment; having trouble being with "what is" and letting go of outcomes; having trouble seeing this world as an Ego-dream and finding the inner transcendent Spirit that is "me/us".

I know people who are able to compartmentalize all of this; to set the state of the nation aside and just  go on with their lives as if nothing has changed, or at least find some psychological respite from it.  I don't seem to be able to do that.

Others live with belief that we make our own reality by what we put out to the Universe.  I get that. My reality right now is that I often feel anger and fear.  I don't want that so I have to find a way to flip those emotions into something their opposite.  Being one who also struggles with depression and anxiety anyway I have a lot of default programming to overcome.  It feels like asking me to magically turn my short, round 66 year old self into a tall, svelte 23 year old supermodel.  (I'll keep you posted on that!)

So, a couple of things hold promise for me.

Hub shared with me a short article about reconsidering Mindfulness, not as an acceptance of all that "is", but as a way of radical discernment.  The author, a practicing Buddhist teacher, opined that the Buddha would be appalled by those who used Mindfulness practices to escape or ignore the calling to make right what is wrong in the world.   Mindfulness, instead, calls us to use our powers of discernment to the greatest good -- to address the inequities that keep some people down and elevate others.  We are called to act for those who cannot; to always find the strength to rise up for the greatest good.  The Buddha, like Jesus, was an outspoken critic of the rich, the status quo.  This really resonated with me.  I have always had a problem with some spirit-seekers who seem to divorce themselves from this world into the blissed out state of self-focus.  Ego-dream or not, I believe our spirits are here for a reason/a lesson; our karma is to figure that out and act upon it to grow spiritually into greater Consciousness.

Then there's Valerie Kaur, Sihk teacher and amazing speaker, whose call to "Seva", or service, is at the very heart of the Sihk religion and of her teachings.  She moves me to tears with her gentle and powerful calls to action.  She says Seva takes courage -- and that "courage" is fear that has said its prayers.  Isn't that beautiful?  It means we don't have to be brave warriors, strong, trained, ready to do battle with the world's wrongs.  We just have to be willing; to say, "please, help me", and then do it.  Do whatever action you are called to do to be of service.  Step into life, with all our of imperfections and qualms.

And keep on, with the discernment anger sharpens and a courage born of fear, we find our voice, our feet, our hearts, over and over again.   Do not look away, hide in denial or disinterest.  We are here.  This is now.  Embrace.

At least, that's the view from here....©

One of my favorite Valerie Kaur talks:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCenwgheIBs

POST-APOCOLYPSE LANDSCAPE

So.  I guess it wasn't a nightmare we will awaken from any time soon.  Many of us are still in this phase of the journey as depicted in Edvard Munch's "The Scream".   It is said Munch meant it as an inwardly heard "scream of nature".  Well, nature should be screaming along with us, given the beliefs and policies of the President-Elect and his assumed Cabinet members about climate change.  (A digression:  I recommend the National Geographic documentary, "Before the Flood".  Beautifully photographed and full of easy to digest science info, if you believe in such things.)

Everyone is reacting in their own ways to the election outcome.  It's only been 5 days and it feels like 5 years of disbelief and grief to me; I'm sort of paralyzed in sadness.  Others have found their fervor for activism and are ready to do battle with all the wrongs he plans to visit upon people who are different or disagree with him.   Good for them!  I'll bring the snacks.

Of course those who voted for him (or didn't vote for President at all, which amounts to the same thing) are happy as clams.  They've been given the "un-PC" go-ahead to act out their worst selves.  Or they have been given hope for a "shake up" that they think will get their jobs back and put money in the bank again or keep those "other" people who are not like "us" out of the country.   They get to feel the self-righteous ardor of those who were willing to sacrifice the good for the perfect.  (Hello Bernie and 3rd Party voters.)  They have all put their faith in a selfish narcissist, a billionaire (if you believe him, but who knows since he won't release any information on his finances) unprepared for leading our country, with only sketchy policies and plans jotted down to "fix it".

Of course what they also got was the pleasure of putting that Bitch in her place.  Don't get me started. Can't even go there yet.

I am incredibly weary.  I am in full-blown grief.  I recognize it.  Been here.  All the stages swirl around except I'm not able to get too far past denial and anger quite yet.  Or tears.  Good god, what  has our country become?  The world is laughing and/or appalled and very worried.   Hillary supporters are stunned and take cold comfort in the fact that she won the popular vote.  More people voted for her than for him; more wanted her as our President. I do take comfort in that.  The Electoral College's intention to save the masses from themselves by not allowing the populace to directly vote for an unsuitable President went off the rails.  Again.

Yesterday I took the drastic measure of signing out of Facebook for the foreseeable future.  I was overwhelming myself and others with the non-stop newsfeed of posts of both outrage and support for those of us who are broken.

It felt good for awhile to connect into communities of people, like Pantsuit Nation, a true phenomenon of Facebook -- a FB group formed by a woman in Maine intended to be a safe place for Hillary supporters to "gather" and share uplifting hopeful stories and encourage each other to action on her behalf.  In only two weeks, by Election Day, it had garnered 2,000,000 members (only allowed in through someone already a member -- word of mouth).  The posts were so hopeful and joyful.   Since Election Day it has grown to over 3,000,000 members, as people find solace and calls to action there.

But soon I became obsessed with seeking out articles and posts that would help me find meaning and uplift and passing them on in 'share' posts.  My sons told me it was over the top; Hub told me I was too constantly online; I know I was quoting "Facebook" as if it was a real thing and not just a bunch of pixels.  A friend and I had a disagreement about how the DNC vs. Bernie Sanders played into this outcome; another told me to back off because she was in such pain and overwhelm she couldn't take it anymore.  Even my good intentions to help those hurting, and to build community together, was having the opposite effect.

I'll admit that only 16 hours into no FB I'm twitching a little bit,  which is likely an indication of the depth of my addiction.  I feel very isolated and alone this morning.  My "FB Tribe" is out there without me, sharing and supporting.  And I don't know the latest this and that cool or abhorrent thing happening in this aftermath.  Well, have another cup of coffee and take a deep breath.

It's come to this:  Last night I was so depressed I was barely functional.  I fell asleep on the sofa for a couple hours, but when I went to bed I was wide awake.  I came back downstairs at 11:30 and sat in the dark.  I decided to meditate and did a series of guided meditations until the wee hours.  I got hungry and made my favorite healthy treat -- blueberries, vanilla yogurt, walnuts, and cinnamon.  But the berries were too tart, so I added a teaspoon of sugar.  The yogurt was too sour, so I shot a dollop of whipped cream over the top.   I already had a bad taste in my mouth...I had to find a way to sweeten my existence even if only in a small bowl of comfort.  I finally fell asleep on the sofa at 3:30, up at 6:45.

It's just like that now.

At least, that's the view from here...©