Of course, with a post title like that, you can probably guess that Karl and I went to see the wonderful documentary Fantastic Fungitonight.
I have to admit, if you’d suggested that I would have an emotional reaction to a film on mushrooms, I’m pretty sure I would’ve been…skeptical, to say the least.
And yet it was just the thing I needed to watch, especially after the week we’ve all had. Besides being fascinating, perhaps even better was that it left me, and I dare say the entire audience, with feelings of hope, inspiration, and awe.
We’re ‘All Bad’
We humans think we’re so great. We stomp around on this planet acting as if we own it, know it, are better than it, and oftentimes, could give a crap about it.
And yet, we are still only scratching the surface of realizing the existence, and understanding the amazingly vast network, of interdependent life that works in concert within and without, keeping everything in balance.
In so many ways, we know so little. And the irony is that perhaps we only need look down in order to discover the solutions we think are impossible. Cooperation and collaboration with other species. What a concept.
Held Over
Some great news: the management of Acme Screening Room in Lambertville, NJ, where we saw Fantastic Fungi, announced tonight that they have arranged for the movie to be shown three more weekends! So if you want to see it, you’re in luck! I would suggest that you purchase your tickets ahead of time, though. Tonight’s show was sold out last month.
Over the past five days, Turtle has shown up in my ‘picks’ for the day three times. Sixty percent of the time. Given that there are 56 cards from which to choose (four of those being blanks), it’s pretty obvious that Turtle was trying to bring me a message.
On those days, especially, I made a point of paying attention to my connection to Mother Earth by getting and staying grounded. No matter how crappy the weather, I committed myself to walking at least two miles – and on two of those days, I managed to sneak in the entire four mile ‘walkabout.’
Staying Connected
To be honest? I assumed Spirit was counseling me to get grounded, to refrain from flights of paranoia or thoughts of unkindness or intrigue or backstabbing. I took solace in Turtle’s advice to get and stay connected to Mother Earth – knowing in my heart that She would never forsake me – and remembering it’s the times of greatest stress and challenge that ask us to remember from whence our strength and comfort is generated.
So I walked. I walked and watched and listened. I noticed the changeability of the weather and listened to the wind whooshing through the very tops of the pine trees lining the road. I paid attention as flocks of birds responded to the shifts and adjusted their trajectories in order to make the most of the changing conditions they encountered.
Is It the Shell?
I wondered, as I walked, “Is it Turtle’s shell I’m being called to notice?” That’s such an obvious aspect, the protection afforded by its shell, its home; the ability to withdraw, tuck in, retreat. Yet, I wasn’t sure.
Yeah, I could withdraw. I could. But as tempting as that was, the message felt less a call to withdraw as it was a demand for connection.
“If you have chosen the Turtle symbol, you are being asked to honor the creative source within you, to be grounded to the Earth, and to observe your situation with motherly compassion. Use the water and earth energies, which represent Turtle’s two homes, to flow harmoniously with your situation and to place your feet firmly on the ground in a power stance.”*
Gratitude
And then it dawned on me. Two of those three days I chose Turtle, it appeared reversed. I realized I needed to pay particular attention to what the reversal of Turtle could be trying to convey to me:
“The idea of a Turtle helplessly trying to right itself after it has been flipped upside down can also symbolize contrary Turtle. You are not a victim, and you are not helpless, no matter how much it may see like this is the case in your present situation. To right the ill-dignified Turtle, you need only list the things you are grateful for, and from that grateful place in your heart, look for the abundance of alternatives that Mother Earth gives.”* (emphasis added)
Ah yes.
It’s essential to make the effort to be present and aware of my life, my friends, my connection to Spirit, including the amazing array of blessings my life offers me every single day. It’s important to feel snowflakes flecked with sleet nick my cheeks only a day after hearing peepers prematurely sing their spring songs.
In embracing my connection to Mother Earth and realizing the protection the shell of my blessings provides me, I realize: She really does provide us with an abundance of alternatives.
Another Turtle Altogether
So tonight, I chose to indulge in the joys provided by another Turtle altogether:
Sometimes, my friends, we just need the comfort and love that a milk chocolate cashew turtle from Pierre’s Chocolates can offer. And so? I indulged.
A different type of turtle – Yum – Photo: L. Weikel
*excerpted from Medicine Cards, by Jamie Sams and David Carson – affiliate link
If you’d asked me that question two months ago, I wouldn’t have had a definitive answer. No one knows exactly what’s coming next. But I would’ve felt reasonably confident of the trajectory of the handful of things in my life I consider to be most important.
Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that a couple of situations and relationships I might’ve considered ‘sure things’ in my life – aren’t.
Everyone reading this has probably encountered at least one instance in life (or more, if unlucky or, perhaps as in my case, naïve) when you’re motoring along, doing your best to pay attention to the signs and signals in life, thinking or hoping you’re living each day with greater insight and sensitivity, when suddenly you’re walloped.
You don’t see it coming. You’re blind-sided. One or more relationships you trusted, cultivated, and nurtured suddenly burst and scatter to the wind like a puff of breath explodes a dandelion gone to seed.
The Way Forward
When that happens, it’s hard to know what your next steps are. The way ahead is murky. Foggy. Unclear. The seeds, scattered, no longer form the beauty of that dandelion puff you held so lovingly in your hand.
And that’s when having faith kicks in. Knowing that if I follow my heart, step by step, the way will become clear.
Life after death? No, I’m not going to write about an experience I may have had that convinced me that life here on Earth does not end when our physical bodies stop working. And yes, I’ve had enough experiences – direct experiences – with people who no longer reside within a body to know this is not simply wishful thinking.
And no, I’m not going to write about what transpired today in our national political arena. Although if I’m honest, there were a handful of people who made remarkably powerful and courageous decisions and expressed themselves most eloquently in acting on those choices. I may write about them some other day, because their actions and words were inspiring and gave me hope that all is not lost in our country.
No, this post is dedicated to Good Girl a/k/a the Grey Ghost – my 2005 Prius. She of the Red Triangle of Death posts. I don’t even think I wrote about the fact that she had her odometer replaced after it got stuck at 299,999. I needed a new odometer installed in order to pass inspection last year!
Mourning
Yes, I know. Assigning anthropomorphic characteristics to ‘inanimate’ objects may seem ridiculous. But driving in a car every day for 15 years, having this vehicle be the common denominator of so many profound life experiences: commuting to Philadelphia (when I wasn’t taking my beloved Septa train!) when I worked at the Women’s Law Project, rendezvousing with son Karl at the Clinton bus station at all hours as he attended NYU and afterward, driving to and from the University of Chicago for another son’s educational adventures, trips to Penn State and Susquehanna University, going on vacation to Cape Cod, innumerable trips, near and far, to soccer games, musicals, and track meets, both high school and collegiate…these experiences leave a mark. We had a relationship.
Yes, Good Girl, a/k/a the Grey Ghost, has seen me through a ton of life experiences. I distinctly remember getting into her after receiving the call from my husband Karl telling me that our son had died. I remember sitting in her, beside the creek (my beloved Tohickon) innumerable times over the past 15 years – but I particularly recall the moment I sat in her, facing the Tohickon, and calling my niece, Ellen, to tell her Karl was gone. I don’t know why I remember that particular conversation, but it remains seared in my mind. Every time I pass the specific spot in which I parked, I recall that conversation.
I remember picking Karl up one time after a particularly hard time he’d had while in NYC. I could feel his misery as we crossed the bridge from Frenchtown, NJ into Pennsylvania. He loathed his predicament at that moment in time. I felt it then and I remember it distinctly now.
Honoring Her Time
More recently, I remember her freaking me out with the Red Triangle of Death midway on my journey as I drove the 12 hour trek from North Carolina to Pennsylvania. But even more amazingly, I remember her mysteriously refraining from blaring the RT of D after I asked her to just get me home that evening and not strand me 350 miles from nowhere.
My Grey Ghost, my trusty companion on so many journeys both physical and otherwise, started giving me signals upon entering 2020. I knew her ticks and groans. I could tell when things weren’t right. And a couple of times, recently, she hesitated. She caught her breath ever so slightly and I wondered if I’d have to pull over and give her Last Rites on the side of Route 611.
The service people at Thompson Toyota were gentle with both Grey Ghost and me, replenishing her fluids and giving her boosts of automotive energy cocktails that kept her going for just a little bit longer. Alas, her head gasket would cost too much to replace. It was only a matter of time. She was, in her own way, placed on her own form of hospice.
I listened to my Good Girl. I knew she didn’t want to strand me somewhere. I could feel her time was perilously close. Indeed, once I registered that feeling deep within my bones, I had to act upon it; I cleaned her out. All of my reusable grocery bags and the couple of blankets I had in the back in case of emergency were brought into the house. All the kitschy stuff I’d accumulated over the years and stuffed into the glove box or console compartment: cleaned out. I even removed the EZ Pass from its Velcro nest at the crest of my windshield.
Within a day, the perfect replacement manifested itself. You can’t make this stuff up.
Resurrection
Best of all, my Good Girl, my Grey Ghost – instead of giving up the ghost, will be given the unique opportunity to become bionic. To resurrect herself in a way almost no other vehicles ever get the chance to do.
It just so happens that our family’s trusted mechanic expressed a desire to have a Prius of his own to tinker with. He happened to mention this to Karl quite randomly (as if!) within days of my decision to replace Good Girl. Our mechanic is amazingly brilliant with cars. He wants to figure out how to make a regular Prius (which is a hybrid) an all-electric vehicle.
It was too great a resolution to pass up. My Grey Ghost would get a chance at resurrection, and we could give a guy whose kept so many of our vehicles running and on the road over the years a chance to indulge his curiosity and creativity. Win/win.
Not many cars, especially those with 312,856 miles on them, get to dodge the crusher and perhaps – just maybe – get a chance to become bionic. But my Good Girl, my Grey Ghost, just might live to see another day: gain life after death – resurrected.
Fun Fact? Today was Donald Trump’s 1111thday in office.
My post yesterday featured a photo of daffodil greens poking their heads up out of the ground a good three inches or so. The fact that those flowers are being coaxed to emerge from their cozy winter beds when it is only early February was troubling to me. It’s not their time yet.
Of course, I ended up writing about the Iowa Caucus, which was also in the process of earning its own well-deserved “Yikes.” In fact, as of just past midnight tonight, well over 24 hours after the end of the Iowa Caucus, we’re still operating with only about 62% of the precincts reporting. None of the candidates can safely claim victory or pretty much make any announcements upon which they might want to capitalize.
How incredibly frustrating must that be for those candidates?! They’ve been spending millions of dollars, focusing intense attention to this state, and practically living there, in some cases, for nearly a year – only to have the results of the single most important night, the culmination of all that hard work directed at this first opportunity for the people to speak bungled?!
Good grief.
Even Worse
But I have to tell you: I took a walk late this afternoon and had to stop. I cocked my head to get a better sense of where the sound was coming from and what I was actually hearing.
A chill ran through me. Yes. Those voices. I recognized them. It was peepers. It’s February 4th, and I could hear peepers calling out and singing their springtime song as they emerged from the mud in the wooded wetlands near my home.
“But it’s February!” I yelled out loud. “Early February, at that!” Spartacus glanced back at me, startled by the sudden eruption of my voice and worried I’d caught him nibbling on something he shouldn’t.
Yikes squared
And then there was the SOTU, the President’s State of the Union address, to listen to this evening. Many entreated me not to listen. And I’ll admit, I was tempted to just let it go. I probably should have, in fact. But I didn’t.
I can tell you that I’m not happy I did it (other than feeling a smidgen of satisfaction in having shown some archaic sense of respect for the office). There were so many lies, so many distortions of truth, and so many blatant moments of pandering and use of rhetoric specifically geared toward manipulating emotion (over issues he’s actually taken stances diametrically in opposition to) that it made me feel lost and all alone.
Back to Premature Peepers
Nope; while I want to express my dismay over their very early emergence, they’re just not giving me enough of a distraction, in spite of my worry over their welfare.
Tomorrow is the actual vote on removing DT from office. From everything that’s gone before, including his behavior following his other two SOTU addresses, he’s going to start tweeting – and tweeting hard. As soon as the Republicans (who literally chanted “Four more years!” at the SOTU, as if they were at a campaign rally) vote to acquit instead of convict and remove him from office, he is going to be off to the races.
Just as Rep. Adam Schiff argued, his power is going to proceed unchecked. He will think and feel and know (based on the Republican Senators’ error and party fealty) he has the powers of a despot. And given his penchant for revenge? Well, we’re already hearing some reports of what he intends to do to his enemies. And we should all be afraid.
Including the peepers who are making their premature entrance into the world.
I’ll admit it. I’d planned to write about a completely different topic this evening. In fact, I was all ready to tee it up and write my piece, when I became distracted by the Iowa Caucus results – or rather, lack of results.
As I sit here, the witching hour for hitting <send> on my post is racing toward me much more rapidly than I expected. And the post I want to write will need some reflection, some TLC. I don’t want to rush it.
The possibility is high that I may be overcome by some powerful emotion or another tomorrow night as a result of the State of the Union address. It’s weird to think, but I have no idea how DT will behave tomorrow night as he addresses the joint houses of Congress. And just that thought – that realization that he could let rip in any number of inappropriate and dangerous ways – is enough to tell me that I probably shouldn’t make any plans.
As a result, I just may have to write about what I’m feeling tomorrow night – or else risk losing that in-the-moment reaction thread. And threads – those urges to spend it all – are essential to follow.
Iowa’s Results
Dragging myself back to tonight’s ‘news,’ it is distressing that it is right around midnight and nary a caucus result has been reported. How incredibly frustrating this must be to the candidates – especially the ones who have been tethered to the impeachment trial (using that term exceedingly lightly) – since they’re supposed to already be on their way to New Hampshire now to pave the way for next week’s primary.
And let’s face it, glitches in election results are a touchy subject. Who among us isn’t just a tad worried about the potential for election interference in our upcoming primaries? And even worse is the thought of shenanigans taking place in the general election next November.
So this sudden and unexpected glitch in receiving the results of the Iowa Caucus is in a weird way sort of traumatizing us. Even if we hadn’t been feeling vote-insecure, we much more likely to be feeling that now. It’s hard not to allow our minds to race to next November, when so very much will be at stake.
The Rest of This Week
Obviously, this is a momentous week. The Iowa Caucus today, the SOTU tomorrow, and then the final vote on DT’s removal from office on Wednesday. Even if everyone thinks it’s a foregone conclusion, a girl can hope.
Yikes. Who knows what else could spring up this week, simply…because. Because we’re in the midst of the Chaos Presidency.
* I took this photo on our walk today. It’s important to realize that today is only the 3rd day of February. These are coming up entirely too early. Yet another reason to say, “Yikes.”
Karl and I watched the Super Bowl tonight. Like a lot of people in our area, we were rooting for Kansas City.
One of my nephews lives in the KC area, so that would’ve been excuse enough. But actually, it was the fact that Andy Reid, the former Eagles’ Head Coach, is now the Head Coach of the Kansas City Chiefs that made us want to watch the game and root for the Chiefs.
Super Bowl Stuff
I have to say, the commercials this year were better this year than they’ve been for the past several Super Bowls. For quite a while, it’s seemed as though the commercials were just getting dumber and more obviously targeting the lowest common denominator. Overall, this year’s crop had the right mix of those that touched the heart strings – most with an appropriate balance and one or two that took the emotional appeal too far – and those that were amusing.
And the half time show was excellent. While I knew her name, I had no idea Shakira’s music sounded the way it does. (I know, I know. I shouldn’t be admitting this out loud.) And both she and J Lo were eye-poppingly astonishing in their athleticism and choreography – not to mention their voices.
The Main Event
Of course, the main event was the football game itself. And wow – these two teams did not disappoint. Competitively, this was hands down one of the most entertaining football games I’ve seen in a long time. Besides the amazing rally KC dug down and produced in the final six minutes or so of the 4thquarter, I think my favorite part of the game was in the 1stquarter (I believe), when Andy Reid made the call not once but twice to “go for it” on fourth down.
I can remember so many games in which the conservative, “cautious” tack was taken that demanded punting on fourth down. Ugh. So boring. This time, it felt, Andy and his team were here to win. They were going to lay it all out there, take the chances they needed to take, and believe in their ability to convert their plays successfully and get a first down.
While I realize this is ‘just’ a football game (albeit the literal ‘be all and end all’ to most fans), it was inspiring and exciting to see them take those risks – and even better, to succeed at their endeavors!
Perhaps my delight in watching KC take those risks was because that type of courage stands in stark relief against the utter cowardice we’ve been forced to witness in the Senate over the past two weeks. Didn’t it make you wonder even for just a fleeting second what it would feel like to witness our representatives standing up in unison to the bully in the pulpit (so to speak) and just saying, “NO!?” How would it feel to have the honor and integrity of our country defended by those who’ve actually taken an oath to do so?
Yeah, I wonder too.
The Reactions of So Many
The best part of the amazing comeback orchestrated by KC’s extraordinary quarterback (I can’t believe he’s only 24), Patrick Mahomes, and the rest of the team was the palpable affection and respect shown by absolutely everyone toward Head Coach Andy Reid. Even 49’ers fans, it seemed, couldn’t begrudge Andy the win.
From the announcers to the players to the fans both at the game and interviewed on the news later, everyone almost seemed to get a little teary-eyed over “what a great guy” Andy Reid is, how profoundly he deserves to finally have a team of his put it all together and achieve the highest honor in the sport.
Watching and listening to the love and admiration so many have for Andy Reid, with nary a snarky word or begrudging attitude offered, was like a balm to my heart. We’ve been forced to witness some really horrible stuff lately. We’ve been asked to condone behavior that has debased us and the principles and values upon which our country was founded – all perpetrated by those who are ostensibly ‘leaders.’
They are the furthest thing from actual leaders.
There is no question that whatever it is that Andy Reid brings to his teams and the people who work with him, it engenders love, affection, respect, and admiration.
Oh, to have those feelings spring forth for those who represent us to the world…
This is Cletus. I challenge you to decipher this look.
You’ve met him before. He’s the cat who ‘ran away’ for a month, but actually, it turned out, was so directionally challenged that he simply couldn’t find his way home in spite of being only half a mile away from us. Indeed, after approximately 30 days of ‘living off the land’ on his own, not more than half a mile away, he talked himself into believing that he was a feral bad-ass.
Cletus also routinely insists upon going outside every night, because – well – he’s a tough guy. A bad-ass. A feral monster from Philly. Nobody needs to know that he growls and hisses at me when I wake him from his slumber to put him out every night. (There’s a reason I do this.) He insists; don’t let him tell you otherwise.
Nor do they need to know that he loves to snuggle and cuddle in the morning, kneading his way back to memories of his kittenhood, shortly after he was rescued by Andrea and adopted by us.
A Worthy Prop
It’s true; I’ll admit it. For all of his surly demeanor, I am the first one to exploit him for his beauty and sassy attitude. He’s a wonderful distraction. We should all be grateful to him for giving me something to write about besides the dismal state of our union.
All of which leads me to today’s photo. Is this cat happy? Is he satisfied and content with his life, appreciating he’s safe and warm, living in a home with unlimited food and water and a cozy spot of his own by an indoor fire? Or is he plotting to take out an eye?
Some days, I assure you, I only barely escape his wrath.
Actually, I’m pretty sure we can all agree the ordeal’s been going on for far longer than a week (and will undoubtedly spin out into the foreseeable future). But this week, in particular, has been especially brutal. And this evening’s climax, albeit both predictable and foreseeable, was nevertheless searingly disappointing. And deeply worrisome.
A Respite With and For My Friends
While I was noodling around FB a little, contemplating what I might write this evening, I came across a ‘share’ from a friend of mine that shifted my perspective. It immediately made me think of you – the people with whom I share myself, my thoughts, my joys, my worries, my peeves, and my devotion.
Right away, I knew I wanted to share his share that shifted my spirits, with you. Why? Because of this truth: a joy shared is magnified exponentially, just as a sorrow shared is halved.
What I find especially fascinating, though, is that I call this man who touched my heart with his FB share my friend. The truth is, we barely know each other. I live in Pennsylvania, he lives in Salt Lake City. We met eight years ago and spent maybe ten days total in each other’s company in Iquitos, Peru. We’ve not seen each other nor spoken since the end of February, 2012.
We rarely, if ever, communicate directly, even though we’re FB ‘friends.’ But FB does give us the ability to stay in touch tangentially. And one of the greatest blessings, for me, are the thoughtful and often fascinatingly beautiful or poignant posts he shares. They’re often insightful in some way, provocative of a different perspective, or simply loving or peaceful.
This friend I made eight years ago when I was in the throes of grieving for my son makes a difference in my life. His posts often touch my heart or make me think or perceive in a different way. And yet, as I said, we (he and the eight or so other people in our group) only spent a total of a little more than ten days together- albeit ten intense days.
The Briefest Encounters
My point is that the briefest encounters can make a huge difference in our lives. Kindnesses, smiles, words of encouragement, gestures of hope…they make a difference.
We make a difference.
Here again is the song my friend Brock shared on FB this evening that shifted my perspective. I needed to hear it. I bet you do, too. I hope you feel what I did when I listened because we need to carry on and not lose our heart.
