Celebrating Freedom – Day 965

Screenshot of Ring of Fire in Gulf of Mexico – Photo: L. Weikel (video CBS)

Celebrating Freedom

Interesting holiday we Americans (technically, we citizens of the United States) are celebrating this weekend (and particularly tomorrow, July 4th). The birth of our nation; the anniversary of the day we declared our independence from Great Britain. We’re supposed to be celebrating freedom and – perhaps paradoxically – unity.

As we approach our country’s 245th birthday tomorrow, I think it’s fair to say we’re at a crossroads of greater consequence than we were at just eight months ago. Don’t get me wrong – November 3rd (but more accurately, the election of 2020, since all votes weren’t cast on a single day in November) was of enormous consequence. I shudder to think what shape our country would be in had the election not been won by President Biden. (And I base that opinion on the shape we were in and the prospective devastation we were facing had circumstances simply stayed on track with the prior four years.)

But because of the unprecedented and shameless dissemination of propaganda across pretty much every expression of traditional and social media, and the confluence of this manipulation with a toxic combination of fear, hopelessness, cynicism, and despair, we’re a country teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

Last Year

Last year’s 4th of July celebration felt drastically different than any I’d celebrated up to that point. A major reason it felt so vastly different was because my nuclear family didn’t get together with a branch of our extended family, in Connecticut, with whom we’d celebrated the 4th of July holiday for at least 30 years, possibly even more.

The reason, of course, was Covid-19. It was simply too much risk for too little gain when we loved each other enough to sacrifice one year so we’d all have plenty to spend together in the future.

Instead, as I wrote in last year’s post (“New Normal – Day 601”), Karl and I stayed close to home. Lucky for us, M and T live close by and we were able to revel in a fireworks extravaganza that rivaled almost anything I’d ever seen before. (Thanks to several of their neighbors engaging in what almost appeared to be a competition on who could shoot off the biggest and best for the longest amount of time. The by-product of this apparent rivalry was astounding.)

But that sense of a widening gap between the haves and have-nots was palpable. And sadly, in spite of Joe Biden’s victory in November, that gap is rapidly becoming a chasm that could swallow us whole.

Chasm of Fire?

Ever since the election, but especially since the insurrection of January 6th, it’s become harder and harder to bridge the chasm and find any principle or value that moves us deeply enough to find unity. And it feels bitterly ironic to me that this is what our country was founded upon: Unity to protect our diversity.

Now we can’t even unite ourselves to harness our substantial wealth of intelligence, resources, creativity, and determination to stop the imminent destruction of the planet upon which we all live. We are literally left gaping at the image of a virtual Eye of Sauron swirling in the Gulf of Mexico while we distract ourselves from it and power grid failures by vowing to plow more money into building a border wall. Goodness knows we need to keep brown skinned people out of our country while 12 story walls of condominiums crush their inhabitants because (and we all know this is true) it was going to cost too much money to make the necessary repairs.

Every day it feels like our fundamental values are growing further and further apart. I worried last year that we might not even be celebrating “Independence Day” this year. While technically we still are, would any of us have believed we’d be here, right now, with the memory of January 6th seared into our hearts and minds?

Haunting Questions

How many more of those can our 245 year old republic weather? What can we do to rekindle (or kindle in the first place) a true and sincere respect, if not love, for those with whom we share this country and this planet?

Maybe, as many find themselves resuming their old traditions of family gatherings (because Covid-19 is being taken seriously and hopefully they’ve been vaccinated) we’ll be inspired to find answers to these haunting questions and find unity in our diversity.

Storm Before the Rainbow – Photo: L. Weikel

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Sleep Well – Day 801

Tigger Sleeping Well – Photo: L. Weikel

Sleep Well

There’s nothing I can say tonight that can do justice to the spectacular nature of today’s events. My heart is full, my unabashed idealism stoked. I’m speechless, but undaunted in my desire to revel in the hope that’s been renewed in my soul. Tonight, at least, this household will sleep well.

There were so many moments. All day. Culminating in the single most amazing fireworks display I’ve ever seen. I only wish I could’ve been there to witness them personally, to feel their reverberations, and to immerse myself in their brilliance.

I can honestly say that in all my 61 years on this planet, I’ve never felt so invested in witnessing inaugural pomp, circumstance, and festivities as I did this year. Right down to the swearing in of the thousand or so people starting new jobs in the administration today who will be carrying forward the day-to-day work of getting the government working for us, the people, once again. I felt my heart flutter when I heard President Biden welcome and celebrate these civil servants and simultaneously let them know they would be summarily fired if found to be disrespecting or denigrating constituents. Accountability. Yes. May it be brought to every level of our government, especially the highest.

Precious Sleeping Well – Photo: L. Weikel

Back to Basics

President Biden brought some simple yet inarguably powerful concepts to the fore today, concepts that if honored can restore us from the ground up: Unity. Truth. Respect. And while he didn’t use the word very often, a sense of LOVE wove its way through every sentence he spoke.

Not the wet-lick-in-the-ear understanding of love we may be tempted to default to when we hear that word. I mean a higher order of love. A love that is founded upon respect, that embraces facts and tells the truth, and a love that cherishes our differences because they are what make us stronger because we each bring to the table something no one else can. Unity in diversity.

E pluribus unum. Out of many, one.

Cletus (Probably Faking It) – Photo: L. Weikel

Top Down

Even beyond all the words (and wow, speaking of words – Amanda Gorman was absolutely brilliant and a testament to the reason why we have no choice but to have faith in and hope for our future), the most striking lesson from everything we witnessed today was just how much power, authority, and influence those who occupy the highest positions carry.

We take our cues from those we choose to lead us. We look to them for confirmation of what we know, deep down, is right and true. If compassion is their watchword, we feel comfortable expressing it toward each other and ourselves. If they tell us the truth, we learn to trust not only them (whether it’s good news or bad) but also our own ability to handle that truth. We realize we’re resilient.

When kindness and grace is displayed by those we hold in highest regard, we emulate it. When we see with our own eyes the power that simple acts of goodness confers, we’re changed. We’re inspired.

Never underestimate the power of a leader who leads by example of both head and heart.

Perhaps we’re ready now to appreciate just that.

One thing I know: we’ll all sleep well tonight with people like President Biden and Vice President Harris leading the way into our future.

Spartacus Zonked – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-310)

Diversion From and Unity With – Day 797

The Hu – Photo: L. Weikel

Diversion From and Unity With

And now for something completely different. I offer tonight’s post as both a diversion from and unity with the world at large.

It’s been a while since I wrote about one of the loves of my odd life: Tuvan throat singing and its very close cousin, Mongolian throat singing. I have a couple of favorite Tuvan throat singing groups, but tonight I’m thinking wistfully of The Hu, the Mongolian folk-metal band that Karl and I went to see in Brooklyn in September 2019.

I’m so glad we had that experience! Little did we know that it might be a very long time before we ever have such a chance again.

Tonight’s Diversion

My niece posted a video by The Hu on Facebook today that I just saw this evening. I have to admit, I became mesmerized and haven’t been able to turn their music off ever since.

I decided to write about them again tonight in the hope that you might allow yourselves to give this music a listen. It may strike you as really strange at first, but if you close your eyes and just allow yourself to ‘ride’ the rhythms, vocals, and ancient instrumentals, you may find yourself transported (or at least diverted) from the stresses we’re all encountering right now.

One selection I am finding myself loving as I sit here trying to muster my thoughts is a piece entitled Shireg Shireg*. What I love about this selection in particular is how much it reminds me of more traditional folk pieces from both Mongolia and Tuva.

I’ll see if I can find a single version of it on YouTube (I did – it is linked above to the title), but if I can’t, it’s at minute 38.27 in this wonderful fundraising video. I hope you’ll listen to it and allow yourself to be transported to the steppes for a few minutes. Both are beautiful renditions in their own ways.

Unity

And it is this video benefiting Covid-19 relief by The Hu that brings me to speak of experiencing the unity we have with even the furthest parts of the world. Mongolia is pretty much on the opposite side of the globe, and is a land of vast steppes, taiga, wild nature, and tremendously fierce and loving nomadic people.

Yet Mongolia, like the rest of the world, is not immune to Covid-19. And The Hu performed this fundraiser to benefit their fellow Mongolians who are battling the ravages of this pandemic just as we are. (I do believe they are more compliant with the mask wearing and have actually been more successful in quelling the spread than we have been here in the U.S.) That said, they don’t have anywhere near the healthcare capacity that we do (nor the population).

No country is immune. We’re all in this together. But that doesn’t mean we can’t lose ourselves in that great unifier…music.

*I just found the lyrics to Shireg Shireg and – what a surprise – find them to be meaningful to me in many ways, and quite possibly to you as well:

Water your red horse with piebald mane without the gag-bit
Please, remember the kindness of your old and grey father
Ride on the slope of the blue fold mountains
Please, remember the compassion of your old and caring mother
Shireg shireg
Shireg shireg
Take care of your loyal steed when you travel in foreign lands
Make friends with good people who you ride in the horde
Feed your bow and arrow with the wind
Abide by your moon sword as you sleep
Have the intuition to see the evil
Have the strength to endure barriers
Shireg shireg
Shireg shireg
We kiss your right cheek as we say farewell
We’ll kiss the left one when you return
Farewell, your elderly father and mother will be waiting for you at home
Shireg shireg
Shireg Shireg
Source: LyricFind

Mongolian shamans on the steppe – Photo: L. Weikel

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Holding My Breath (Again) – Day 511

Image (Facebook) – Credit Unkown

Holding My Breath (Again)

As I sit here trying to think of something to write this evening, I keep dismissing each idea that pops into my head.  Nope. Not that. Nope. Not that, either. I annoy myself as I nix each thought. Until I realize: I’m holding my breath.

Literally and figuratively.

So I write that as the working title to my post and I realize with the force of a whack upside the head that this awful freaking virus is all about our breath. It’s all about breath and breathing. Or not being able to take one or enjoy doing it anymore.

I make a point to take a deep breath – if only to notice it, relish it, be grateful for it.

Momentous Week

Why am I holding my breath? Because I, too, feel this week will bring shock and sadness to so many of us. To any and all of us who are paying attention.

And it will only be the beginning.

We thought we were witnessing the beginning recently? No. We weren’t. We were just watching the opening credits.

Now is when the rough stuff really starts unfolding, when the images we see playing out before us slam into the vision of reality that we insist on pretending we see. This is when we find out whether the center can hold – on whether our centers can hold. This is when we are faced with the consequences of our choices and the choices of others.

We’re In This Together

Because, yet again, we’re in this together. The dire predictions for New York City are probably going to start manifesting this week. But the real shock is going to come when it happens elsewhere.

Everyone expects NYC to get slammed. Many who are intimidated by the intensity and startling diversity of NYC look at NYC in smug judgment. But what about other cities that are not quite as diverse? Rural areas? Our small towns and villages where people think they’re immune to the consequences of policies enacted in Washington D. C.? Something tells me they’re in for a terrible surprise.

So…yeah. I’m holding my breath. I don’t want the dire predictions to play out. And I wish we didn’t have to live through such cataclysm in order to force us to change our ways.

But as long as we insist on thinking we’re special or it won’t happen to us we perpetuate the spread of this misery.

There is a solution. There is a lesson. It’s the realization on the most profound of levels (from the seemingly insignificant to the obviously momentous) that we’re really and truly all connected. We are all related. And we need to start acting like it, from the ground up. I’m holding my breath (again) – for all of us.

Mitakuye Oyasin.

Creek along Red Hill – Photo: L. Weikel

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