politics

Trouble – Day 1081

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Trouble – Photo: L. Weikel

Trouble

Look at the photo above. Brutus is flirting with disaster. And Cletus is providing an almost irresistible target. No matter which way you look at it, trouble seems to be the most probable outcome.

While the expression on Brutus’s face is kind of cute, the energy of this photo sort of captures how I’m feeling at the moment. I don’t know about you, but I’m finding it almost physically painful to even look at headlines.

With all the harbingers of a truly horrific downfall of our country beating us over the head, day after day, I am gobsmacked that a handful of people are essentially holding us back from taking a huge leap forward in reclaiming our status as an enlightened country. It literally hurts my heart to contemplate how selfish and bought these so-called representatives (Senators) are to be refusing to allow progressive ideals even the opportunity to make a difference in people’s lives.

Honestly, I find myself without words and feeling despair in my heart.

Anyone Else?

It just feels like we’ve been through so much – and there’s no respite, no blue sky. We never get the chance to see our ideas and ideals implemented. We never get to see what exercising compassion at the root of our country’s actions would yield.

And all the while, the rich not only get richer – they get obscenely richer. And two people who profess to be part of the party that wants to implement change for the vast majority of our country – just two – have the power to derail what millions of people voted for last year.

There’s no point in me even writing about any of this. I know. And that simple fact takes my breath away.

That Light

I don’t know why I’m compelled to write from such a dismal place this evening. Thank goodness I’ve had puppies to focus upon lately, I guess. Because Spartacus’s sudden death knocked the wind out of me. And the utter intransigence we’re witnessing in Washington D.C. right now is having a similar effect. It’s sucking the hope right out of my sails.

The light I think so many of us felt last November is turning out to be, in all seriousness, the headlight of an oncoming bullet train that’s going to demolish the United States – at least the U.S. we were raised to believe we were.

I feel powerless to stop it and – damn, I have to say – I loathe feeling powerless.

Something needs to change. The system as it exists now has been so corrupted by dark money (and light money – and money of every shade in between) that the country we thought we had no longer exists. And if hope is extinguished in most of us?

Trouble will have found its home.

Beauty in spite of it all – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-30)

Rhythm – Day 1056

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Satisfied Sunset 2 Oct 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Found a Rhythm

I don’t know if it’s the fact that I only have 55 posts left to write in my 1111 Devotion, but lately it’s been feeling harder and harder to think of things to write about. Again. I ran into this feeling often during the days, weeks, and months when I was first immersing myself in this Act of Power, as I like to refer to it. But then it seemed like I found a rhythm. I developed a trust in my process that became a way of life.

I’m not sure why I’ve been struggling lately.

Swimming Upstream

Some nights it just feels like I’m swimming upstream in a river that’s flowing with the adage, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Yeah, sure; that’s a tidy intention. But I’m not engaging in this every night to simply be a purveyor of bromides. Nevertheless, I try to bear in mind that my posts are read first thing in the morning by some of you. I try to remain cognizant of setting a tone for your day.

But then you get treated to a barrage of frustration like the one that poured out of me the other night. I’d apologize for my rant, but I’m passionate about where we’re headed as a country. I’m freaked out that nothing substantive has been done to bring accountability to the myriad crises and abuses we’ve watched unfold in plain sight over the past several years.

And I’m especially appalled that investigation into the insurrection has, so far at least, yielded a dearth of information about and zero accountability for anyone who was actually a ringleader of that debacle and near-coup. And the sentences meted out for the truly egregious behavior of the people egged on by those in power seem paltry and pathetic. Mere slaps on the wrist when you re-watch what we all witnessed unfold in real time.

“My Bad”

So I must take responsibility. The spirit is willing but the flesh (as obviously expressed by my fingers tip-tapping on the keyboard) is weak.

I’m genuinely worried about the state of our country. And I’m especially troubled by how a failure to hold the big names accountable is going to end up trashing the foundational pillars of our democracy.

I’m relieved we’ve been given a reprieve (at least somewhat) from the constant bombardment of outlandish lies. But sadly, it’s not enough.

We need to get involved; we need to speak up. Too often – and too much like the ‘silent majority’ baloney of 40 years ago – we regular people who’ve bought into the fundamental principles of our country (such as no one being above the law, the existence of an impartial judicial system, majority rule – with minority given some stop-gap measures but not so powerful that they hijack the system – to name a few) are being told to sit down and shut up.

I for one am not inclined to do so. And I hope neither are you.

(T-55)

Timelessness – Day 782

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Spartacus Greets the New Year – Photo: L. Weikel

Timelessness

Maybe it was the way the sunshine of the morning was almost imperceptibly overtaken by a gray comforter of overcast. The sleet that started prickling us as we rounded the final turn of our walk hastened our gait. The warmth of our fireplace beckoned. A sense of timelessness set in as daylight dimmed so dramatically that we had to check the time. Had we lost a few hours somewhere?

Was it the weather? Was it the arrival of the first day of the year on a Friday – giving us a full weekend to get used to the fact that we’re no longer under the spell of 2020?

Was it the haunting memory of last night’s images of a nearly empty Times Square?

Out of Sight

If you are lucky enough not to be part of the front line troops in our most recent war, it was almost possible to imagine life unfolding in any configuration you might want to fantasize today. The cranky closeness of the clouds was the perfect screen upon which you could project any fantasy of reality you might want to conjure.

That’s such a strange facet of our reality right now. We have the world at our fingertips. But we also have the ability to cut ourselves off from the vast majority of it. For instance, living out in the country as I do, it’s a fact that if I choose not to look at my phone or computer or turn on my television, I can remain in total ignorance of the chaotic lives hundreds of thousands of people are living (and thousands are losing) every single day as a result of this pandemic.

It feels disrespectful and cold-hearted to realize that ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is both so easily employed and radically true in our country. Especially when you hear people saying that Covid-19 is a ‘hoax’ simply because they don’t know anyone who’s sick or died from it. Yet.

I’ve written before about my sense that it’s part of my personal responsibility as a member of society to maintain an awareness of what’s unfolding in our lives politically and otherwise. I’ve also written that it’s essential to maintain a healthy balance. We can become so consumed by anything (whether we judge that thing to be ‘good’ or ‘bad’) that it can do us harm by making us oblivious to the rest of our lives.

Cocoon

Today, though, with the weird color of the daylight and the remarkable quiet when we took our walk, it was stunningly easy to imagine the world to be much different than I know in my heart it is.

Perhaps there is some merit to total withdrawal every now and then. If we project onto our personal screens of overcast clouds a vision of a world where people honestly care as much about their fellow Earthlings as they do about themselves, maybe it will matter.

I can say one thing for sure. I could use another couple days of timelessness and projection of a better world. I’m glad we still have the weekend ahead of us.

Be well. Take care of yourselves. Spread love and kindness, not virus.

(T-329)

Debate Night With Cletus – Day 471

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Cletus watching the debate – Photo: L. Weikel

Debate Night With Cletus

Ugh. I watched the debate tonight. I thought it was pretty awful. The moderators seemed to lose control from the very beginning; the candidates were petty and rude, interrupting each other and continuing to speak even though someone else clearly had the floor; and it just seemed as though the questions were barely probative of anything that really matters. Debate night with Cletus was a tremendous disappointment.

It was frustrating.

Booing

Yes, I realize this is probably a statement that completely dates me, but quite honestly, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all. And no, I’m not talking about the candidates. I’m speaking of the audience members, who obviously booed Bernie Sanders repeatedly.

I don’t mind the supposedly spontaneous cheering for Mike Bloomberg, although yes, I’m cynical about its origin. But the booing was inappropriate, distracting, and staged.

Cynical? Me?

I find it astonishing that the pundits were quick to criticize Bernie Sanders for appearing “a little off” this evening. And their smug observation that perhaps he wasn’t used to being booed was pretty patronizing.

No one likes to be booed, I’m guessing. But isn’t it interesting that none of these pundits criticizing Bernie Sanders’s performance this evening thought it relevant to mention that the lowest ticket price to get into the audience of this debate was $1,750? And that some paid up to $3,200?

I’m sure that the booing of answers provided by Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren was purely coincidental to the significant financial means it took to attend tonight’s debate in person.

Money Talks

Let’s face it. We’re seeing it everywhere in our society, but no more so than in our politics. At this stage of our country’s evolution, money talks. Which means we, the people, are faced with a choice. Do we reward this craven ability of those with unlimited wealth to simply buy our attention (and our votes) by running billions of dollars’ worth of ads that create an ideal image of a candidate?

Or do we take the side of the candidates that appears before us, warts and all? One advocating the same position they have for 40 years, and another being ignored as a brazen woman who actually cares enough about the Democratic party to go after the one with unlimited funds and expose him for being far different than what he’s advertising us now?

Seems to me, that’s the candidate that cares more about adhering to fundamental ideals than even winning herself. Seems to me that might be the one I would trust most to get the job done and believe that she really will fight for regular people. Seems to me that might be the candidate who would put our needs before her own.

What a concept.

Obvious Mainstream Prejudices

I’m finding the mainstream prejudices that favor the status quo utterly remarkable. The knives sure do come out when the power brokers of the party and the pundits of the chattering class realize that they may not actually have their finger on the pulse of the people of this nation.

People want change, radical change. That couldn’t be more obvious. But the media pandered to the lowest common denominator tonight. The setting of the debate looked 100% like a game show. In fact, the candidates were actually referred to as contestants – and one of the moderators described them as vying for the role of president.

The questions that were asked were simplistic and mainly aimed at getting the candidates to throw some chairs at each other. God forbid we address the Coronavirus and the gutting of the CDC, or the corruption of the Judiciary, or the purge list of the president.

My how we have dumbed down this process.

I will allow Cletus to express my dissatisfaction with tonight’s debate:

Cletus Snarling (at the tv) – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-640)

Busted – Day 396

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Busted   

Yes, I’m busted. Tonight’s post is going to be especially short because, I must admit, I was distracted by the end-of-day proceedings in the House of Representatives. I got lost in watching events unfold in the Judiciary Committee (yeah, I’m a government nerd) and was shocked when I almost randomly glanced at the time and realized it is nearly 1:00 a.m.

I’m choosing the photo that’s accompanying this post deliberately (obviously, since I thoughtfully choose all of my photos), because I want to believe there’s a rainbow coming for all of us.

There’s certainly a lot (a lot, a lot, a lot) of angst, strife, and abject despair over the political situations around the world these days. The apparent results in Great Britain being the latest example. Obviously not counting what’s going on over here because everything so far, over here, has been preliminary.

Full Moon

That moon is shining just as brightly tonight as she did last night. The blue light casting stark, dark shadows just feels a bit colder, if you ask me.

Personally, I’m still purging. Luckily not in the physical (barfing) sense, but purging nonetheless.

Hang in there, friends. We will survive.

(T-715)

Stress Eating – Day 326

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The pileated woodpecker who visited on my birthday – Photo: L. Weikel

Stress Eating

I’m sitting here on my couch once again trying to think of something even remotely interesting to write about and all I feel like doing is eating. Stress eating, since I can’t say I’m particularly hungry. But I crave endorphins. I want some comfort.

Seriously. I sit here noticing that my brain is saying, “Have some chocolate.”

“No.”

“No? Why not? It’s OK. Certainly better than ice cream.”

“Ooooh, yeah…ice cream would be so delicious. Thank goodness we don’t have any in the house. And anyway, no!”

I’m even contemplating excavating a beer from the bowels of my refrigerator (which of course is continuing its relentless on/off nonsense, but since the repairman essentially said he could attempt to repair it but it likely wouldn’t fix the problem and could easily cost close to half the price of a new refrigerator, we decided to just use it until it conks out). And anyway, the only reason I would drink a beer would be to get a buzz – and my pleasure in that would be short-lived, at best.

Think of Other Things

I don’t want to follow up on the disappearing birds post just yet. It’s too early; too soon. While I’m hearing from a number of people who live near me that they’re noticing the bird disappearance as well, I’m sort of feeling like I should give it a few more days. Maybe they’ll come back.

Although that seems unlikely.

Beyond the local corroboration, I’ve also heard from a few others as well. From places as far away as the southern Jersey coast, Baltimore, and even western North Carolina, when called to their attention, people are noticing that things are suddenly quiet. And the quiet is sudden: it’s been about two weeks or so.

The Elephant in the Room

Then there’s politics. I could write about that. But…no. I’d rather stress eat. In fact, what we’re all watching unfold (if we’re paying attention) is both riveting and revolting.

I feel like we’re going to have the limits of our republic tested over the coming days, weeks, and months. I am adamant that I do not want to gain weight over everything that’s going to come out and be revealed. And quite frankly, that’s why I’m not going to eat anything now – neither to soothe myself nor to quell my yearning for a ‘win’ – because I refuse to sabotage myself.

So this is where I am this evening. Up-to-date on breaking news. Falling asleep mid-sentence to the deeply resonant snoring of Sheila. Dealing with it all by contemplating snarfing up something sweet.

Fair warning? I may not be able to muzzle myself over politics much longer. I don’t know. I feel like something even bigger than has been unfolding this week and last may ‘drop’ tomorrow.

In the meantime? Stay strong, my friends. Big changes are coming. And while the change itself may be hard and painful as we move through it, I hold firm to a vision that we will come through this stronger, healthier as a nation, and more compassionate.

(T-785)

A Quickie Tonight – Day 310

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Train to Lansdale (formerly known as the R5) – Photo: L. Weikel

A Quickie Tonight

No, you guys. That’s not  what I mean!

I’m finding my ability to keep my eyes open this evening is seriously compromised, and thus I will not be discussing my interpretation of Paper Wasp’s appearance ‘in my face’ this evening.

I’ll weigh in on that tomorrow.

Unexpected Opportunity

I’m more tired than usual this evening because I spent the afternoon and evening in Philadelphia. I had the good fortune to be invited to attend the first ever Workers’ Presidential Summit, which was sponsored by the AFL- CIO in Philadelphia.

This has been my lucky political year so far. First, I was invited to an event where I got to meet and listen to Corey Booker a few months ago.

Today, I had the opportunity to hear Joe Biden, Andrew Yang, Bill DeBlasio, Bernie Sanders, Tom Steyer, and Amy Klobuchar address a room full of union workers at the Philadelphia Convention Center.

What a cool thing – to be able to get a sense of these people a little closer up, a little bit more personally and authentically, (or at least not separated from me by a tv screen). I have to say, attending these events has made a difference for me in how I perceive some of these candidates.

Which leads me to feel the need to make one statement before I go to bed this evening:

While I do feel it will be better to have the Democratic field of potential contenders winnowed down sooner rather than later, I actually feel like it’s a great opportunity for people to get their ideas out in front of the public and potentially drive some policy changes in those who ultimately become the nominee.

Make That Two Statements

The second statement I want to make is that I feel we are incredibly fortunate to have such outstanding candidates from which to choose. And my favorites weren’t even represented today, much as I really like some of those who spoke, and gained respect for others.

But I can state that each person who spoke today was sincere and smart, poised and ready to lead the country to a more unified, caring, and prosperous future.

I felt proud of each of these individuals, and appreciative that they care enough about the state of disunity, anguish, and fear of the future so many in our country are feeling to stand up and do something about it.

As I ran to catch my train (and it arrived just as I was hustling down the steps at Jefferson Station), I realized that I feel hope. And it feels great.

Sleeping Beauties – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-801)

Perspective – Day Seventy Nine

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Photo: L. Weikel

Perspective   

I’ll admit it; I got lost in the rabbit hole that is my photos again this evening.

But I did find one photo that I’d like to share. I was glad to see that I’d taken it, since another photo I’ve already used in a couple of posts is indeed great, but it does not give anywhere near the sense of perspective that this newer photo provides.

As you can see, it is the photo of the Chinggis Khan statue that overlooks a massive plateau on the outskirts of Ulaan Baatar, the capital of Mongolia.

The photo I’ve used before is taken from just below it. You can tell it’s no ordinary civil war statue, if you know what I mean. But this other photo helps give perspective.

It’s interesting to contemplate perspective. It is, as they say, ‘everything.’ Everywhere we look (or feel, or ‘find ourselves’) lately, we’re being bombarded with circumstances or experiences that are seriously challenging our understanding of perspective.

It’s Chilly Out There

Just off the top of my head, I’m thinking about the nearly mind-numbing arctic conditions swooping into the upper mid-west and slowly making its way east. I’ll admit; I’m having a hard time comprehending potential wind chills of negative 60 degree Farenheit. I think I saw Chicago is supposed to have a ‘high’ of negative 14 degrees. Straight up. No wind chill taken into account.

That’s frigid. That’s Siberia cold. And while I’ve never been in Siberia in the winter, I do have a little bit of perspective – we lived in Buffalo for three years back in the early ‘80s. But even having Buffalo for perspective, this ‘polar vortex’ being experienced in our country now is virtually unprecedented and simply lethal.

Shout out to my friends and family who are in the midst of this weather: please stay safe and warm, snug inside your homes.

Something Seems Awry

Another example of perspective that comes to mind this evening has to do with the daily outrageous revelations that erupt from Washington D.C. If we’ve been paying attention at all, we know that this presidency is unlike any other in the history of our country.

(I will admit here to having written several paragraphs on the revelation this evening about additional meetings that have been held between D.T and V. P., notes and transcripts of the conversations between the two securely – and most importantly SOLELY – in the hands of our adversary. But I have deleted all of those paragraphs and will sate myself with simply making this brief mention here and asking – no, entreating  –  you to please consider putting the egregiousness of this flaunting of our right to know what is being said in these meetings into perspective. And by ‘our’ I mean those who are tasked with protecting us, the American people: our intelligence agencies and other governmental experts and advisors.)

Perspective in this situation is critical to perceiving the enormity of the unprecedented ‘kompromat’ taking place right before our very eyes. And all of us have a gut feeling about it, even if we adamantly do not want to believe it could be true.

What happens when we lose perspective?

Because so much takes place every day, because so many scandals smack us in the face like a relentless battering of waves after we’ve fallen on the beach, keeping us from even being able to catch our breath, we are in danger of losing our perspective.

We cannot allow this to happen. (I say that, knowing full well we already have. And yet…) The stakes are too high to simply look the other way. We must do our best to seek and maintain perspective.

So perhaps a mnemonic might assist. The statue of Chinggis Khan looks pretty big as it is. But wow – when we step a few paces back and look at it in context to everything and everyone around it – you can feel it in your bones. It’s massive.

We can and must apply that same exercise in perspective to our government, and specifically, those in the Executive Branch. I think if we take a few steps back and look at it from that perspective, we just might get that weak-kneed, watery-insides feeling that tells us: this is massive; we need to pay attention.

(T-1032)

Photo: L. Weikel

Not Politics – Day Seventy Three

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Photo: theconversation.com

Not Politics

As I sit here staring off into space wondering what I could write that might be of even the slightest interest to you, I keep coming back to politics.

I don’t want to write about what’s going on ‘out there’ right now. Actually, you can thank your lucky stars, right at the start of this post. Why? Because I just wrote a medium-sized (for me) post on my ‘birth’ into activism some 18 years ago.

And then I chucked it.

Finding the Sweet Spot

I don’t want to talk or write about politics (at least not today), and if I write about activism, and how mine was sparked, that presumes speaking about the issues that call to my heart and stir my passion. And probably like many of you, I feel there are a myriad of things happening right before our very eyes that are, quite simply, incendiary.

Indeed, it’s tough to find a sweet spot these days when it comes to balancing civic responsibility with maintenance of even a modicum of mental, physical, and spiritual hygiene. It is nearly impossible to keep up with everything that’s going on and not feel mired in muck. Or enraged to the core. Or hopeless.

And yes, I do turn the tv off while I write my posts, so anything I write pretty much comes from a place of me sitting in my beloved silence. But it’s hard. And even when I do, it’s swirling in my mind.

Setting a Disturbing Precedent

I’m finding our current state of affairs to be setting a truly disturbing precedent. It’s just like smart phone use. It’s addictive. And making matters even worse, it’s also akin to driving slowly past an accident on the interstate. We can’t help but look.

All of us know things are accelerating in Washington D.C. The pace of revelations is unsustainable – although it’s only just now reaching the top of the first (and usually biggest) rise of our cultural rollercoaster. Prepare for more – and at stomach-dropping speed.

The disturbing precedent I mentioned, though, is that fix of dopamine we’ve all become habituated to receiving every ten or fifteen minutes every day, or even more frequently if we are hopeless ‘refreshers.’ The only thing that saves some of us is when we are fortunate enough to have a task where our full and undivided attention is required.

It’s a problem, and it’s disturbing. I worry whether we will ever allow ourselves as a society to drop back from this break-neck pace of constant “Breaking News.”

Will We Ever Return to Peace?

I ask you: Can you honestly imagine our society returning to a relative sense of calm and trust in the day-to-day institutions that keep our lives running with some sense of normalcy, order, and trustworthiness?

Sometimes I am glittering with hope in humanity. Other times…not so much.

I’m going to wrap up this post and bring it to a close. My eyelids are heavy and my heart’s close behind.

Aren’t you glad I didn’t talk about politics? Ha ha. Yeah. Me too.

Have a great day.

(T-1038)

“It’s scary out there.”  – Cider

Calling Myself Out – Day Fifty Three

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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)