diversity

Diversity – Day 1095

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Brutus eyeing me up while Pacha pokes a caterpillar – Photo: L. Weikel

Diversity

It’s amazing to me how siblings can have the same parents and yet have utterly divergent personalities and proclivities. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, though – not when I consider the nature of my work and the things I’ve seen. But the astonishing diversity of life’s expression, whether it be human or animal, always holds a certain mystery.

Pacha and Brutus have been bringing this concept home for me lately. I know they are litter-mates. I saw their brothers (Pacha was the only female of the lot), and I played with their parents. And while they didn’t seem like clones of each other, you could definitely tell they were all playful and loved.

Right off the bat, though, Brutus wanted to be cuddled. He practically ran into my lap when I crouched down to sit cross-legged on the family’s front lawn. And while he couldn’t resist popping up and scurrying around to tumble and tug with his siblings, he would occasionally (and endearingly) touch base with me by running back and hopping into my lap again.

Pumpkin Scarfer

Pacha, on the other hand, seemed intent on ripping into a slightly smashed pumpkin that was under a bench at the side of the yard. She furtively snuffled her little piggy snout into the soft orange flesh and clearly relished scarfing it up. She joined in on the sibling tumbles too – and made a point of currying favor with Karl – but she was also definitely more independent.

Carrying that attitude forward, she continues to be a free-thinker. She eschews the limits we place on her and gives us the paw at every opportunity.

Most recently, she’s begun bending into a ‘down dog’ yogic position and barking at me when I call to her and ask/coax/command her to ‘come’ to me. A most defiant little pup. Not to worry; I’ve spoken to some who know what they’re doing – and I’m cautiously optimistic that she’ll soon realize I’m a bigger dog than she is. But it does make me wonder at their seemingly almost opposite personalities.

Puppy Pile (Pacha on top) – Photo: L. Weikel

Unique

Ultimately, we’re all unique. Only some of the diversity of our ‘selves’ can be explained by genetics. At least that’s my opinion. Yes, genes can combine in a vast array of different sequences, all creating different combinations of characteristics, etc. But I also think there’s something to be said for the individuality of our souls. And yes, I do believe animals have souls. They may not be quite the same as human souls, but there is something there when you look into an animal’s eyes that has a distinct essence to it that goes beyond skin, bones, and brain function.

I’m just scratching the surface of what I think about sometimes when I watch these pups interact with us, each other, and the other beings that inhabit this household.

But for now, all I’m saying is, there’s a reason why sometimes there may seem to be more photos of Brutus than there are of Pacha. He hangs around with me and gives me more photo-ops. Pacha would rather be out raiding a pumpkin patch or gnawing bark off our maple tree. (Sigh.) Or just giving me the paw.

Brutie helping me bake a Carol’s Chocolate Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-16)

Celebrating Freedom – Day 965

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
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

(T-146)

Holding My Breath (Again) – Day 511

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
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

(T-600)

Calling Myself Out – Day Fifty Three

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Calling Myself Out

I’m wondering how you’re all doing today. I don’t know about you, but my days of the week are all screwed up. I don’t know if I’m starting the week or ending it.

I’ve started about five different iterations of tonight’s post and scrapped them all. I guess I don’t want to waste your precious time on blah-blah-blah, and what I’ve been coming up with has definitely been classic blah-blah-blah.

So let’s see, what am I thinking about?

I found myself welling up a couple of times with pride and hope while watching the news tonight. The diversity of the freshman class of Representatives in the House is phenomenal. And to see in their eyes and demeanors the depth of respect these incoming Reps have for the honor of serving our country and the excitement they have for the prospect of making a difference makes my heart swell.

Serving Our Country

It also frustrates me a little. If I’m honest, I have to admit that I’d love to be in government. I’d love to serve my country in that way. But I’ve always known I’d never be electable – for a myriad of reasons, what I ‘do’ for a living now being an especially obvious reason.

But let’s face it; I speak my mind way too much, too. And my poker face would be non-existent when listening to people lie. Good grief, I think I would’ve had a hard time serving in government back when people were collegial and respectful of basic norms of integrity and decency. But now? I’d strain a muscle trying to muzzle myself from calling out bullshit.

If there was something I secretly aspired to as an attorney, it was to become a judge. I pride myself on my ability to listen with an open mind to anyone and everyone, and give even the most egregious conduct or bizarre positions the dignity of being heard while maintaining impartiality. But becoming a judge where I live and work(ed) as an attorney necessitates becoming a political animal. Hence, I knew I was doomed. I’m just not cut out to say and do what apparently needs to be said or done to get elected.

Sometimes We Need To Relinquish Aspirations

So that’s one set of aspirations I sincerely held that I needed to relinquish fairly early in my life, in spite of my law degree. And yet it frustrates me still, especially in our present era, when we are constantly asked to ‘be the change.’ And to ‘make a difference.’

This is not a poor me post. It’s a simple reaction to my heartfelt pride in witnessing our country finally electing so many women (I think the figure is 100 in this 100th year since women gained the right to vote) and particularly women of such rich and varied backgrounds. And wishing I could be a part of that movement.

One moment I saw that particularly caused me to shed a tear of shared joy was witnessing the two Native American women embracing and shedding tears themselves. And there were so many other great stories. Stories that embody the American Dream, like the freshman Representative from Colorado, I believe, whose parents were refugees from Eritrea (Joe Neguse). This is what our country is all about!

So, I guess the point of this post is to both celebrate a new era in our nation’s politics, and also reveal the obvious: that we don’t always get to manifest our secretly held dreams. At least I didn’t.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.

(T-1058)