Empty Your Head

 Hello. Is anyone out there? Hmm, silence. Never mind (says Emily Litella). I’m mostly writing this for myself. It helps a little.

I’ve been reading over my most recent posts, and I’m not happy. I seem to be obsessed with the same subject. I seem angry and fearful. To that I say, “Isn’t everyone?”

I’ve done what I promised myself not to do. I am letting one person suck up my thoughts and my days, and it is too much. I’m becoming a woman obsessed. I’m giving my life over to domination by evil.

Enough. I met the nicest person last week. It was at a used books store where I struck up a conversation with a young man shopping for fast food toys - you know, the kind of toys you get in a Happy Meal or other fast food joints. He said they brought him happy memories from his childhood, and that now he has a 3-month old son who will get to play with them.

We chatted pleasantly for a few minutes, and I walked on up the aisle, looking for books. In a little while, the young man walked up to me and said, “I want you to meet my wife and son.”

I was so surprised and touched. His wife is a lovely person with beautiful red hair. She held their son in her arms. That baby turned around and looked at me and his face broke open with smiles. He laughed out loud. He was the most adorable child I think I had ever seen. He bubbled over with joy, and he made me feel wonderfully happy and so honored to meet this nice person’s family.

“This,” I told my husband later, “is why I talk to strangers.” It was such a wonderful experience for me. I buzzed with good feelings, which return every time I think about it

I’m going to try to put things like this in my head as often as i can. That other stuff sucks the life out of you and refills your head with despair. Whew! I’m going to go out and meet some more good people. I’ve had it with the other kind.

Resistance

 Resist. I’m seeing this word more often lately. I have a sign in my yard with a picture of our Statue of Liberty holding a sign that says “Resist”. I’ve seen similar signs in my neighborhood and all over town. 

I’m a word nerd, and I have been thinking about what “resist” means to me and to others. When I posted it, I had in mind resisting tyranny. Tyranny is another word I need to define. The most accurate definition, applicable to what I see happening in our country is:  cruel, unreasonable, illegal, or arbitrary use of power or control.

That’s a scary mouthful. I see meanness and cruelty on the news everyday. I see a powerful assault on our freedoms. It’s the reason I planted the sign.

I felt good when I planted it, and maybe a little brave, but I don’t think it is going to be enough. Looking up the definition isn’t going to be enough either. I’m thinking more and more that circumstances are going to demand action.

I’ve gone to a protest, and I am likely to go to future ones. I’ve written letters and signed petitions going to our Congressional representatives, who turn a deaf ear. I’ve given money to organizations who are fighting tyranny on every front. I don’t think this is going to be enough.

I have no clue as to what I may be called to do for my country, or what I would be willing to do. I never expected to have to ask myself this question.

 Resistance is certainly in the eye of the beholder. People fight tyranny in different ways. There are those who believe that resistance itself is tyranny. It’s a moral problem that each person is going to have to solve for him or herself.

I have, for now, chosen my own way of resisting, and that is the tiny little act of being kind and compassionate to others. We are so divided, as a country, so sure that our problems are caused by those people over there, even though those people might be Americans too. 

My goal is to heal the growing chasm that is tearing us apart, by doing a simple thing - reach out to everyone you meet - make an effort to connect in some small way that leaves that other person feeling better. 

Reach out to people who are different from you or believe something different from you. I find that people who expect hatred and derision, are often the most happy to receive kindness and respect, even in passing.  I am likely to learn ways in which we are not so different and to feel less fearful about differences we do have.

It’s my way of saying, we won’t be torn apart. We won’t be changed. It is my intention to be a kind and compassionate person, despite the chaos and division sown by our current administration.

As I have said, the division is wide and filled with unhappiness and fear. I know healing is a big goal, and my little way doesn’t move mountains. But, it’s something I can do, right now, every day, and I’m sticking to it. I’m resisting. 

Something shocking happened to me the other day, I realized that I am now afraid of the government of my own country - the United States of America. Everything that I have ever believed and treasured about being an American is now under attack, and we are headed for dark days.

My father enlisted in the Navy when he was 19-years old, right after high school. It was World War II, and he did it because he saw it as his duty, and he owed it to his beloved country to go to war for her. He had never left his home, but he volunteered to go along with so many other proud men and women who gave themselves fully to fighting for our country and our way of life.

And they fought, at great cost, to save us from a madman, whose megalomania knew no boundaries, and whose murderous cruelty reached to unspeakable depths. They gave their lives to stop him, not just for our country, but for people of the whole world, so that they could live freely, safe from his terrorism.

I am afraid, because I see the same cruel and murderous acts being committed right here and right now by an administration which will use any means to obtain money and power. They stoop to any depths to impose their will on innocent people and exact their revenge on anyone who happens to disagree with them. I have heard more than one person say, “It’s getting so I’m afraid to express my opinions out loud.”

And this is happening right now, in the USA. People are becoming afraid.

We recently heard about an 82-yr-old man, who had lived here legally for many years, had committed no crime, and who was in the act of renewing his green card. He was seized by ICE with no explanation, no trial, and no opportunity to defend himself.  He was shipped off to Michigan for detainment, and by the time his terrified family finally got word of him, he had been deported and lay in a hospital bed in Guatemala. Why did ICE do this? Because under our new way of governing, they can, and they will, take anyone they want, without explanation or repercussion.

Black-masked ICE officers serve as the President’s Gestapo. Rotten prisons, like Alligator Alcatraz, are his concentration camps.  The people he targets for removal are immigrants, but can Jews be far behind? He is an equal opportunity bigot, and his terrorism and punishment of innocent people go unchecked.

These are the hallmarks of an authoritarian government. It is our government now. This is the work of a disgusting, deranged, despot, who is overturning our most cherished beliefs and standards. He demands loyalty, not to the Constitution, but to himself. He has said publicly that he is not sure he swore an oath to the Constitution.  And when a lie is more powerful than truth, lies become the oil that lubricates our rapid slide into authoritarian rule.

They have only begun. The horrible actions that we are witnessing right now are just the preliminaries, designed to test the boundaries, and see how far they can push them or break them. They have already convinced half of the country that a free and fair election was “stolen”. In the next election, if there is one, they will declare that they have won, regardless of the outcome, and there will be no more free and fair elections.

We the people of the United States of America must wake up. This is not just about the cost of groceries. Things are not status quo. The President and his gang of thugs, are not on our side.

My father lived a good life, but died from a disease related to substances he was exposed to while serving during the war. Ultimately, he gave his life for his country, so that Hitler could be stopped. My father could not have imagined that a home-grown Hitler was waiting to take his place. His crimes and ambitions are no less monstrous, and he is incapable of caring about the suffering he causes to ordinary people who have done no wrong. He is the greatest threat our nation has ever known. He is the President.

I am told that our representatives in Congress are afraid of losing their offices if they stand up to Trump. They are cowards. People like my father willingly marched off to places they had never heard of, at a very real risk of their lives. Many lost their lives. For fear of losing an election, members of Congress and state legislators will not stand up against an existential threat to our democracy, and willingly hand it over to the likes of Donald J. Trump? How unbelievably and bitterly sad.

Spread A Little Love

I had to call it quits today. We’ve been traveling in Argentina for the past month. It’s wonderful to be able to do so, but several physical issues have slowed me down, and I realized that I did not feel able to finish the planned itinerary. I have to stop. I am 75 years old. I have some physical issues, and I’m tired and just not able to do it. We are going back early.

Admitting these things has been difficult. First, I don’t want to be old and have physical problems that limit what I can do, and second (or maybe first), this all comes at extreme inconvenience and disappointment to my husband, who has to get us transportation back home. He has grumbled, but he didn’t leave me behind, as yet.

I have been feeling pretty bad about all this, but my wonderful friends have, as always, been very supportive. One person wrote me an especially sweet note about enjoying reading about my adventures. She mentioned something about how I connect with people wherever I go.

We have my mother to thank for that. She talked to people everywhere, known and unknown. She didn’t hesitate to just start a conversation. As a kid, I cringed with embarrassment, but now I am obliged to carry on her tradition. I just can’t refrain from speaking to people wherever I am. Some people do not engage, but most people will stop for a word or two or even a long conversation.

I have to say, that I see this is a kind of mission. When I was in high school, we decorated the yearbook office  with a banner we made that said, ‘Spread a Little Love”. It was 1968. It was what we intended to do. I took it to heart.

So with each interaction I have with people, I try to spread a little love and kindness. I don’t have to try too hard, I just try for a little interaction that helps both of us walk away feeling a bit better; maybe feeling heard or important or understood. But  mostly I want people to feel that we are all good people, and how we are with each other is important.

These are just little things, but it is something I can do when I’m feeling that there is so little. It helps me fight off despair. And I meet some wonderful people.

I believe that if you are able, and if there is an opportunity, you should try to do something good, no matter how small.

What about if you were the most powerful person on the planet (allegedly), and had the wherewith-all to do big things? Wouldn’t you try to do something good with that power? Why in the world not? Why would you use it for meanness? It’s a question for which I have no answer.

And so It Begins

And so it begins. The darkness threatening our country begins to wrap itself over us and to keep out the light. It is going to be harder to see, to see for oneself what’s going on. Light illuminates what’s real. Darkness disguises what is not. We have to keep reaching for the light.

   I find myself thinking of Dr. Fauci today. I think of him often and what happened to him. I heard that President Biden gave him a pardon. Lord knows, he didn’t need to be pardoned, but he does need to be protected from the evil that has tried in every way to destroy him. I hope it will be enough.

   i don’t think I have ever heard of anyone who has better exemplified what a dedicated public servant should be like than Dr. Anthony Fauci. I don’t know all of his biography, but he has dedicated his life to research and treatment for infectious diseases, so that people all over the world, and their children, could live safer lives or just actually live.

    He worked with AIDS and Ebola patients hands on, at risk of his own life, to conquer these diseases. He has always been the voice of quiet reason and enlightenment to help us conquer our fears and know what to do when faced with epidemics and health disasters of all kinds. He has served our country, our people, and the people of the world tirelessly.

     He tried to help us through the pandemic that took more than a million American lives, but a narcissistic, ignorant, incompetent boob, who knew nothing yet claimed to know more than anyone, vilified Dr. Fauci. He did this all because he would rather tear down this good man, destroy him, and let Americans die rather than look bad because he was so incompetent. He couldn’t take looking bad, so he egged on his supporters to threaten Dr. Fauci and his family and to cause people not to listen to his sound advice. Instead we were left with looking for a way to inject bleach into our bodies to deal with a virus. Straight out of the dark ages. More than a million Americans died because we had and have a sociopath as our head of state.

    I am grateful to Dr. Fauci. I am glad he is retired and pardoned. I hope he takes his family and leaves this ungrateful country before the murdering heathens track him down for good.

   When the Emperor has no clothes, he’s little able to tolerate a man who can truly see and who has the wisdom to know what to do 

Last Day of The Way Things Were

I need to get these thoughts out first. They are driving me to write about them because I don’t know what else to do. So, I am making an attempt to get back to blogging. I do not intend to write about the same topic all the time. I do intend to write about my days, what I see and learn as we go along. I do hope to be able to find those things that still are good and to write about those. Just call these: observations by a little old woman.

     My heart is in my throat today. Fear churns my stomach. Dread weighs me down.  Bewilderment and the futile pursuit of some way to grasp the why of it all has hijacked my brain and robs me of sleep.

     Tomorrow we hand our country over to a man who, with his own words and actions, has repeatedly promised to tear it down and put himself at the top of some kind of authoritarian government. We voted for him despite his saying openly and repeatedly what he plans to do. We voted for him despite his lies, his incompetence, his mental illnesses, his crimes, his attacks, his insults, his disdain and ridicule for morality and ethics, his disgusting remarks about good people, his complete lack of character.

    Here are some of the things we have chosen. Duty and service to country will be replaced by revenge, self aggrandizement, and relentless pursuit of unfettered power. Honor will be replaced by winning at all costs. Truth will be replaced by lies and we will be told what to believe. Freedom of speech will be used at your own risk. Hatred, persecution of perceived enemies, and militant punishment will the first order of business. Decency will become a dirty word and reserved for losers. Debauchery and debasement will be a must for the resumes of would-be leaders. They will  serve at the pleasure of the king, and he is easily displeased.

    I don’t understand this at all. I think I have watched too many movies because I am waiting for the good guys to break in, put a stop to all this, and haul his ass away forever. Or, maybe this is a nightmare, and at some point I’ll realize it and wake myself up.

Neither appears to be likely to happen. 

I said I don’t know how we got here, but lately I have been thinking this. We forgot to be who we say we are to our own people and to the world. We forgot to live our words and fulfill our promises. We got by on congratulating ourselves on how great we are, which makes it difficult to recognize real problems and find solutions. I grew up being told, “If you don’t like it here, go somewhere else. There are a lot worse places.” Comparing yourself to worse places gives you a false sense of superiority, and that has come undone.

    I am 75 years old, and just an ordinary person. I never imagined facing such a situation in our country. I thought we were so strong that we could stay that way without too much thought or effort from me. Big mistake! Mea culpa. I just wanted to live out what little time I have left doing the things it has taken me a lifetime mold into a happy life and treasuring the precious people whom I love. I wanted to age into peace.

Well, here we are. I am not peaceful. I feel angry and resentful, though I, too, am to blame. And I don’t want to live out my years feeling this way. I don’t know what to do, but I strongly feel that I need to write, and this is my attempt. I hope to make it about something that transcends this mess we are in, I hope to find a way to live with it without descending into despair. I hope I find some way to help my country.

    

Stuff Running Around in My Head

 I’m wearied by all the stuff running around in my head. I wish it would stop, and my thoughts given a chance to focus on one or two things at a time, in hopes of reaching any kind of conclusion about those subjects. 

    DUH! And I’d like to find a previously unknown rich uncle who was about to lay a lottery-sized inheritance on me.

There are just too many things that demand my attention - especially the negative stuff.  At least I feel they are demanding and I can’t seem to do anything to clear my mind. I’m wondering if this is a side-effect of aging that the older you get, the more stuff you have to think about. Especially if, like me, you include a great deal of time and attention to reminiscing (ruminating) about the past in addition to all the isn’t-it-awfuls- that assault us everyday. 

There is a lesson in this somewhere, well, staring me in the face actually. I should be able to let some of this go and actually focus on something in a relaxed and reasonable sort of way. Meditation, I believe it’s called; that and letting go.

I don’t know if I have ADD, but I have always found it difficult to quiet my mind: the lofty goal of meditation is always out of my reach. As Pema Chodron said, “You start counting breaths to 10 to focus better, and then you find yourself sometime later wondering whatever happened to numbers five-ten.”

I started thinking about this in the yoga class I just finished this morning. (See what I mean?) The place I should be most likely to quieten my mind and relax. It’s the whole purpose of yoga, but here’s my Svanasana (the hopefully blissful rest at the end of class when you let everything go.)

 Sandi: “Thank goodness that’s over. God, it was hard today. I couldn’t follow the directions. I have so much to do. I need to look at my calendar. Someone is coming for coffee, Friday morning. I need to bake something. Wonder if I should get bagels. But when? I need to look at my schedule. Oh, dear, this weekend it’s Father’s Day. I don’t have a thing for Gerry. Where could I go to get something? Breathe, Sandi, breathe. Wonder how much time  we have before it is time to get up? Etc. Etc. Etc.”

Will you please just shut the hell up for five minutes??!!!

That’s what I say when I wake up in the middle of the night wondering what I can do to control the outcome of the next election. I’m afraid I’m still pondering that one.

I did have one crystal clear thought at the end of Svanasana. I’m tired, and I think it is because I am trying too hard. We all are. 

There is such a big, boiling eruption of things happening, information overload, demands made, responsibilities, perfectionist expectations, worries, and our plain old wishes and desires, that there just isn’t any room left in our brains. I don’t know, but I feel like I get up everyday trying to wrestle some kind of control over all this stuff, or at least figure out why my I-Phone does such weird things. I can’t do anything about most of it, but so far that realization hasn’t translated into any increased inner peace and quiet.

I feel responsible - a serious case of the I-Shoulds. One of which is I should try harder and always do my very best. Thank you Puritans. 

I’m beginning to think that I “should” stop trying so hard. It’s like a yoga teacher once told me, “You can’t effort into the pose. You have to relax, and let your body find its way.” In other words, don’t try so hard.

I get it. I know I need to let go of some expectations that I mostly impose on myself. Like when a friend is coming over for coffee, it isn’t necessary to scrub the bathroom floor with a toothbrush. Relax, she’ll probably never notice. Another friend recently said to me, “Sometimes adequate is enough.” That phrase is profound enough to make me want to have it tattooed across my forehead.

I agree. I’m going to let go of needless expectations. I’m going to work on doing that. I’ll add that to the list of things I have to think about.

Little Kids in PJs

 About 7:30 this morning, while on my morning walk, I witnessed the sweetest family scene. A family was out in the yard seeing the dad off to work. Dad sat behind the wheel of the station wagon with his window rolled down. Before rolling down into the street, he stopped a moment and leaned out to say good-bye. Two little boys, still in their pjs, straddled their scooters beside the driveway, and the mom stood beside the boys and held a big mug of presumably coffee. 

     As Dad eased down the driveway, he waved and said, “Good-bye, I love you. I love you.” 

     The boys cried out over and over, “Bye Daddy, Bye Daddy, love you too, love you.”

      Mom watched her boys and waved goodbye to her husband. 

    The Dad started down the street, still calling “I love you. I love you.”

    I felt this scene of a young family’s love, so openly expressed, to be very moving. It seemed such a beautiful contrast to the constant barrage of negativity with which I begin most days. And it lifted my heart and my spirits.

    Granted, this scene stirred my memories of the 50s when my brother and I wore the pjs, and our dad was the one going off to work. Not that we ever stood out in the yard and sang out our love to the neighborhood. 

    I almost didn’t write about this. I am aware that this picture is one that is unfamiliar to many people - many family experiences are radically different. 

A white man and a woman and two kids, is not the only kind of family who loves each other. And there are many other reasons that others may not want to idealize the scene as I witnessed it. And, yes, this could have been one moment of peace in a troubled family, but I don’t think so.

    The point is not how the family looked or who was or wasn’t in the family. The point is that these people so obviously loved each other and began their day sending one member off to work knowing that he is loved, and joyously so, by the people who are his beloved.

    Any family, of any content or structure, could fit into this picture, where love is the theme. Love that is so beautifully and wholeheartedly expressed that it is a treasured moment to witness it. 

   Sometimes I forget that such people exist. Sometimes I think that there is precious little good in the world. I’m glad to know that I am wrong. Despite that other stuff, I am now reminded that love still lives in us human beings, and it is strong.

    I walked on by and said good morning - you have a beautiful family. The mom said, “thank you so much!” I didn’t stop to tell her how much I loved seeing them, too intrusive. But the clear, unsullied, reality of this is that there was enough love to spill over into my life, and I’m grateful I was there to receive it.

   

 Night full of Rain

Crawled into bed last night, aching from spring gardening tasks, and settled in with what began as the soothing sound of rain sprinkling on the trees and my neighbor’s metal shed roof.

My window was open to cool spring air, just right for covers. All in all, one of my favorite sleeping arrangements on a tired night.

Not to be. Not this night.

I first woke up at 2:10 a.m. to a torrent of rain that beat on the leaves and hammered on that metal roof. I got up, wandered around, looked out at the rain, and returned to bed, first tripping over a stool.

Worry as much as rain, woke me up at 3:46 a.m., “Oh, no, all that rain. It’s too much potassium, too much potassium. What is the chemical symbol for potassium anyway. Is it “K”? These matters weighed heavily on my mind, as the rain steadily continued. I needed to know that darn symbol.

G.’s potassium levels are too high, and that has been the matter of much concern and discussion in our house recently.

I tossed and turned for a while, obsessing about potassium-rich rain and the letter “K”, and finally dozed off. The heavy rain continued through the night.

I woke up at 5:30, to the very pleasant sound of birds singing and soft, dripping rain falling all around. Snuggled up under my covers,  my night-long struggle with rain seemed very silly. Though the potential for residual potassium might still be a problem.

What is it about our brains than turns perfectly ordinary events into worrisome nighttime situations that plague our dreams?

But as sung by CCR, who’ll stop the rain?

(For the record, K is the chemical symbol for potassium, and the internet did not reveal any particular relationship between potassium and rain.)