It's About the Man

I am in mourning for my country today.

Recently, in response to my thoughts about Donald Trump, I have been called a sore looser, angry because a Republican will be President; un-American; and someone who wants to kill babies and sell their parts. 

I have noticed that none of these people actually ask me why I oppose Donald Trump. They just go ahead and assign these criticisms to me. When I ask, and I have asked, supporters to talk to me about the man, to inform me about the positive qualities that make them support Trump, I get a barrage of talk that is about President Obama; Hilary Clinton; the Democrats; the Liberals; and poor old immoral Bill Clinton. No one seems to be able or willing to actually discuss the merits of Trump, not within my hearing at least. Though the right to speak rudely and hurtfully to anyone we choose does seem to be a very popular asset.

This is my blog, so I am going to use my time and this space to say exactly why I can never support Donald Trump ... for anything.

For the record, it does not matter to me which party he represents, right or left, or any of the other reasons. To paraphrase James Carvell, "It's about the man, stupid!"

First, he is colossally unqualified. He has never served in government; served in any kind of public work; never held any job, except in his own company. He is pathetically and doggedly uniformed about, well everything; and he is proud of it. He has said that he doesn't need advisors: he trust his gut: and recently that he doesn't see the need to read briefs too much.

I suppose the reason for this is, as he proclaims, he knows more than anyone about, well, everything. He knows more about the tax code; freedom of speech; hacking; ISIS; and I am certain that I missed a few. I cannot take seriously anyone who actually brags that he knows more than anyone else. Such a person is a fool. It has always been my experience that people who make such claims are delusional.

I can't find any history of Trump doing anything in his life but promoting Donald Trump. Where is his public service record; good works; care and concern for others; actions on behalf of our country, poverty, the environment, or anything philanthropic? Oh, yes, he did begin renting his properties to minorities after the Justice Department forced him to. Even his foundation has been under investigation for giving funds to guess who, Donald Trump. One item is to have a portrait painted of the Great One.

The chief qualification most often cited by his supporters is that he is a great businessman. I call that into question. First, he is awfully secret about his dealings and his taxes. I have read quite a bit about his business career. It is rampant with business failures; bankruptcies; lawsuits; unethical business practices; cheating; and lies. He owes masses amounts of money to people and countries all over the world. People who have done business with him have come forward to say that it is standard operating procedure with the Trump organization to welch on contracts and refuse to pay for work done. 

His father staked him to start with and bailed him out financially numerous times. Banks have bailed him out to prevent losing even more money on the loans they have given him. His businesses regularly fail and go into bankruptcy: casinos, Broadway show; Trump University, steaks, airlines, wines, etc. etc. He makes most of his money as a TV character and by selling his name to other business ventures.

Donald Trump is untruthful. He has been caught in countless lies and misrepresentations. He has been caught on tape and in interviews making statements, then denying that he said them, when they become inconvenient. The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I guess. 

He doesn't bother to use facts when he makes outrageous claims: one example of this is that he claims that thousands of people voted illegally and the election was rigged. Well, I guess he and his comrades would know about that.

Trump is a confabulator. He has a serious lack of knowledge, so he makes something up in order to have something to say. He also has to confabulate to support his outrageous ego and his need to believe that he is indeed "The Greatest."

Example of confabulation: We are going to repeal and replace Obamacare with something that is going to be so much better, and we are going to do it simultaneously. Well, maybe not simultaneously, it has to be in stages: possibly the same week; maybe the same day, actually maybe the same hour. He is making it up as he goes along. Never mind that no such plan actually exists.

So, what happens when the press, trying to do their jobs, point out his untruthful statements and practices or even to get him to give a straight out answer to a question? Donald Trump attempts to discredit, control, and silence the press. A free and independent press is one of the cornerstones of a free and democratic society, and we are in danger indeed if he convinces the public that only he speaks the truth, and EVERYONE who disagrees with him is a fake, a liar, and an enemy. Control and suppression of the media has been the cornerstone of Fascism. Look it up.

Donald Trump is immoral. HIs sexual escapades are notorious. His play buddy, Jeffrey Epstein, is a convicted pedophile. Of course Trump now claims that he doesn't know the man, despite ample evidence and witnesses that they partied together at Trump's Florida estate and elsewhere. Trump is on tape on the Howard Stern show talking about no holes barred (sorry about the pun) sex with Russian girls. He was married at the time. He was also infamously recorded about how he could get away doing anything he wanted to women because he is rich and famous - also married at the time. All previous marriages ended because of infidelity, which I believe is considered a sin in most religions.

Trump does not hate women. He objectifies them as sex objects and uses them.

Donald Trump hired an avowed white-supremacist and misogynist as his chief White House strategist. So, what do you think his chief strategy might be? I believe this has been his hidden agenda all along.

I do not believe that Trump gives a damn about working people or has any intention of doing anything to help them. He has lived a life of privilege and wealth and lives only to increase his wealth. He is filling his cabinet with other millionaires and billionaires with a vested interest in keeping the upward slide of wealth in this country into their pockets. He announced to his millionaire buddies on New Year's Eve, that he would cut their taxes by 35%. Has he offered any tax relief to working people, who actually need help as they fall further and further behind? And finally, the man who would bring back jobs to the US, sends his manufacturing jobs to China and other countries and hires illegal immigrants to work on his construction projects.

I ask you. Are we not to judge this man by his actions, not by his words? Why does he continually get a pass on the outrageous things he says and does?

Then there is the matter of Russia. Trump has an abiding affection, admiration, and support of Vladimir Putin that is beyond explanation. He clings to this even to the extent of choosing Putin and supporting Putin over the United States. He doesn't trust our intelligence services, but he trusts Vladimir Putin. I don't know why this is, but it scares me to death. I do know that Putin does not love the USA. He is bent on re-establishing the Soviet Union, and will use any means at his disposable. Having the President of the United States of America kiss his ass is an asset indeed. The Donald, so anxious to make his mark on the big world stage and so in need of having his ego stroked is only too happy to oblige. At what point do we finally call this treason? People have been black listed and had their lives ruined for WAY less than this. Explain this to me, please. Anybody???

Finally (well no, but my last point at least), Donald Trump has a Narcissistic Personality Disorder. This means Donald Trump is the center of Donald Trump's world, and the world and everyone in it serves their purpose only to the extent that they serve his purpose. He is profoundly incapable of putting anyone's needs ahead of his own. 

His ego, which serves for his character, has to be constantly stroked. He has to unceasingly, in answer to every question, tell us how great he is and how great everything he does is. Why he could run the Trump organization and be President at the same time, AND do a great job. He said that, not me.

If you are for Donald Trump, you are great, but if you doubt him or don't believe him, or God help us, don't think he is the smartest and greatest man alive, then you are an enemy and you will suffer his wrath and revenge. A man who cannot tolerate any criticism and seeks to denigrate and destroy anyone who criticizes him is dangerous. But, he can't help himself. It is an illness and a dangerous one for a man with power.

His is the type of personality that leads to authoritarianism; fascism; and the death of opponents. His deep, inadequacy must be over-compensated without ceasing, and that can only happen when he is crowned King. Trust me, he says, I am the ONLY one who can fix it.

Donald Trump is mentally and morally unfit to be the President of the United States. He is a danger to our country. I am told that we are supposed to give him a chance. We have given him a chance. We have been listening to him for more than a year, and he has proven time and again to be unfit. I do not want him to have the chance to fulfill his hate-filled, self promoting; immoral, and unethical agenda in my country. He is just too dangerous. 

I am in mourning that on this day, because evil has been given the place of power and glory in my country. I pray to God too, and I am asking for help to protect us from Donald Trump. In the meantime, I will resist. 

Home Again

We are back from South America; back from Chile Days; and home to our own showers, our own beds, Coffee Mornings, and our own country. There is pleasure and nourishment in all these things. We are home, but we are not unchanged.

The best part of travel, for me, is the people I meet, and the way that seeing the world and meeting these people changes my perspective. 

Access to travel and technology truly make the world seem smaller and smaller. I feel more and more that divisions are artificial, and we all live in the same world together. As small as it gets, however, it is so much larger than my own life, my views, my needs. That is what happens when I travel. I grow smaller, but larger in understanding and compassion (at least I hope so). 

A small example is the two women from Moscow we met at a hostel in Pucon, Chile. We chatted for several days, and I discovered that almost none of my assumptions about their lives were accurate. I hope they felt the same. I like to think, that at least in the virtual world, I now have two friends in Moscow.

I have challenged myself, yet again, not to travel boldly in the world to confirm my suspicions, but to muster enough courage to go and discover all the ways in which I am probably wrong. I hope that I do return with greater understanding and compassion.

I am also returning to my country, whose fate concerns me greatly right now. I am working to apply my compassion to these concerns, rather than my alarm and anger. Compassion is always the correct response, even if I have to dig hard to unearth it from beneath my fears, and believe me, right now I am digging.

I have many things that I want to say about current affairs, and I work things out by talking. I can't not talk about things of interest and concern. While in Chile for three months, I was addicted to Facebook, both because I was lonely and estranged and longed for contact, and because the news today is like the proverbial train wreck. I could not stop looking.

I have said many things on Facebook, the reasons are stated above. I will continue to have many things to say and hope to discuss with others, but I am going to cut way back on my Facebook use and attention.

First, the daily shouting of the "ain't it awfuls" gives me indigestion, literally, and provokes a tendency toward knee-jerk reactions. I have tried to curb them, but it is just so much easier to "like" and put up "hit-and-run" comments than it is to soberly investigate the news and take time to think and assimilate. I need to move myself closer to sober investigation and critical thinking. As I have said on FB, the news is shocking and dismaying enough in reality; I don't need the hyper-spin and fake news. I fear that our reality is now too closely pinned to sound bites and outrageous statements that we have failed to seek to confirm. Please don't tell me that it is impossible to find out the truth: it just takes more work and more sources.

What I hope to do now, is use this blog to help me think through what I have read and heard and try to make sense of the information I have gained. I will share it. If anyone wants to read it, fine, but it primarily serves as a way for me to put on the breaks a bit and work through the horrors.

I won't say that I will never visit FB again. I want to hear about friends and family. I just have to cut back. I will share this blog, but having to take time to go to my blog and read it cuts down on the "in your face" aspect of what I have to say.

I will be talking about Donald Trump. I believe to my core that his election is a threat to our nation and an affront to everything that I believe in my faith, my morals, and my ethics. Writing about it is one of the legitimate efforts that I can make to resist him and the way that he is pledging to lead our country. I strongly feel that it is my moral and patriotic duty to resist him and his henchmen in every legal way that I can. I do not yet know all the directions this might take, but I do know that I have to speak out when I see and hear wrongdoing and the wrongful manipulation of facts.

I no longer feel that FB is the best venue for expressing my thoughts on this. I do think that it will be a way for me to link up with anyone who wants to read what I have to say. 

So, we are back. The work of being a good citizen begins. A president, who I feel is mentally and morally unfit, is coming to power this week. This is not yet a totalitarian government, and those of us who oppose him, can and will use our freedom of speech and freedom of choice, to work  to limit that power and toward replacing him as soon as possible. I have said to friends, in a previous e-mail, that I pray that our system of government and our constitution will stand, and that we will work through this time of trouble together, even if not always in agreement.

I will say again, I have a greater sense of how small I am, but we live in a country whose greatness resides in the belief that all people and all opinions matter. They have worth, and they need to be heard.

Here's the Thing About My Mom

Mama, made the best roast pork, bar none, on the planet. Tender and juicy on the inside, with a nice brown, chewy crust; we burned out fingers for samples as soon as it came out of the oven.

After Sunday dinner, when it was time to go home, Aggie sliced some of that pork thin; spread a little mustard and mayonnaise on white bread; added a pickle; wrapped it in waxed paper (and it stayed wrapped); and put the sandwich in a brown paper sack to take home. In theory for later, but half way up the road, it became irresistible and turned into an on-the-road snack. That sandwich, made in that way, then topped the list of the best food on the planet, and it cannot be duplicated today. 

Mama kept her linens in a closet in the hall, and whenever someone opened it, the fresh, sunshine fragrance filled the hall, and infused the sheets when she made the bed. Crawling into her beds at the end of the day was the best tonic for world weariness that I have ever known.

She loved nature in all its forms, especially flowers. She kept a little vase of flowers on the dining table as long as there was anything blooming in the yard or the woods. Dad, on his walks, would often bring her a sprig of some bright wild flower he found in the woods. A dozen, long-stemmed roses pale in romantic power next to such a gift. Her simple, sweet arrangements broke open my heart. I think because of her abundant joy in the unadulterated beauty of nature.

Mama loved to sing, and she sang while she worked - she sang to the sheets on the line and to the dishes as she washed. She sang because she was happy.

She loved to joke and kid around, and as my brother and I grew up, we gave it to her mercilessly. She always laughed: she was always good natured with our silliness. But she cried when we, as adults, left home after a visit.

Well, now that's several things about my Mom, though not everything about her. Perhaps this is because Mother's Day is coming up; perhaps it is just because I miss her.

Flash of Red

     Has it really only been raining for two days? I seem to remember lying down to sleep ages ago and loving the sound of the rain against my window. But my dreams turned to thunder and flash during the night, and I awoke to wind blowing rain across the street in heavy sheets. The runoff from the roof sounded urgent. Deluge was not an exaggeration.   

Was that just this morning? My water-logged thoughts stretch back eternally to a time of sunshine, when I sat on the porch and drank coffee. It feels lost to me now, though I suspect it was really only about two days ago.

How long did old Noah have to wait around in the Ark before it finally stopped? Are we going for a new world record here? The doves have abandoned my yard and have no information to share.
     
I looked up at one point and caught a flash of red outside the window, where a bright Cardinal rested briefly in the deep green bows of the cedar tree beside the house. I'm telling you, the bird looked desperate, and then he hurried on. I understand how he feels.

It's astonishing to me how quickly a long winter rain leads to feelings of desperation and distorted perceptions.
     
Let me out! That's what I say. This house does not float.

Things that Bump You in the Night

I wrote this on my blog a few years ago.. A friend recently asked me to "publish" it, because she thought some people might need to read it. I don't know about publish, but I thought I might share. While this is the season to be merry, it can also be the season that some people feel sad(s).

I have a quote on my refrigerator (actually, my refrigerator contains more wisdom than food, in hopes that I might ingest some, I suppose):

Approach what you find repulsive; help the ones you think you cannot help; and go to places that scare you....  from some Tibetan monk, whose name I do not know.

     I've taken this as a general kind of guide to self improvement and living a life less self-centered. Although I once interpreted it to mean travel by myself to a foreign country where I did not speak the language and to eat foods of unknown content and origin. 

     There are times, however, when this quote takes on a radically different meaning. 

     Did you ever startle awake in the middle of the night for no good reason, gripped by a sweating, heart-pounding feeling of doom - that either this is the Big One or else all the awful mistakes you have made in your entire life have gotten together and decided to perform an intervention while you slept? 

     I have, and it usually signifies that the Fear and Anxiety Twins have come to pay me a visit for as long as, oh well, as long as they care to stay. 

They are old acquaintances of mine, but they are unwelcome.

     The problem is that when the Twins visit, they wrap themselves around your head; clutch at your throat; twist up inside your stomach; suck up your energy, and they won't let go until it thunders. They also like to gossip about your friends and neighbors, and speak unkindly about your own character.

     Your home becomes house-arrest, and the still-pajama-clad creature watching yet another re-run of "What Not to Wear" at 2 p.m. is you -  the repulsive thing you can't approach. The place that scares you is the shower; and you are the one you think you cannot help - beyond force-feeding your way to the bottom of a full bag of empty calories. 

    You could do something about this, but you feel, profoundly, that any non-essential movement would split your entire self into a thousand, un-gatherable pieces, and that would be that.

    You've never felt like this? Hmmm, imagine that.

    After years of hosting the Fear and Anxiety Twins at varying intervals and for varying lengths of time, I've learned one essential coping tip. Remind yourself that it won't last. They will move on. 

     So you spend a day or two posing as a lazy, overweight, unmotivated slug, and then you approach that place that scares you. You take a shower; put on some clean clothes, and take a break. Then you do something else; make coffee, maybe make up the bed.

     Funny, the Twins have an aversion to clean clothes and made beds; they'll begin to get restless and start looking for other accommodations.. 

     Last night, I went to another place that scared me. I rode my bike through the marsh walk, something I had never tried before. I left the Twins back at the house. I enjoyed the ride, and when I returned, they were gone. There was nothing to do but open the windows and clean up the dregs they'd left behind.

   I'm told this is National Mental Health Week (Month?). Depression gets to most of us sooner or later, but it won't last.

JUSTIFIED!!

Ok, I feel justified. Coffee has been irrefutably proven to be good for what ails you. People who drink coffee live longer; keep their brains functioning; and are happy! Yeah, I told you so.

And now for the ultimate told-you-so: Garden soil makes you happy! Current research shows that garden soil contains microbes that affect your body in the same way that Prozac does! Playing in dirt helps alleviate depression. Ever hear of the "Happy Gardener"? Of course!

Ok, now friends, I'm inviting you to come over here. I'll pour you a cup of real coffee, and allow you to walk barefoot in my garden, and I will only charge you the special, introductory price of $60/hr - that's 1/2 off standard therapy charges. Note: there will be surcharge if your case is severe enough to require eating some of my dirt. 

The doctor is in.

Soil Therapy

Worked in the garden for a couple of hours today. The hot summer and my aching back kept me from regular tasks for quite a while, but Autumn is kinder. The weather and my back seem to have reached some kind of compromise, and I can work, if I'm careful. I'm grateful for the beautiful flowers I enjoyed this season, despite the proliferation of weeds that threatened to choke them and me. 

Autumn gardening tasks are mostly cleaning up and moving plants to new locations in hopes of better outcomes. And there is always the ritual of saying good-bye to annuals and the faint hearted who did not last the summer. I feel a special kinship with those.

While I garden I think, philosophize, and pray. I think about writing. You know, of all the thoughts that crowded my head out there, none seem very original now. Gardeners know what I mean, and others have probably read or heard about the Tau of Nature a million times.Beauty fades - yeah, like we don't look in the mirror everyday.

I think I'll just say that Autumn tasks are so reassuring. The tidying up gives the impression of readiness: readiness for winter winds and storm, but also readiness to receive the seeds scattered by the winds, and readiness in the sense of fertility. Rich, dark, secret soil ready to produce.

And thats the most reassuring part for me. The garden is alive with deep, thriving roots; burrowing worms; dormant seeds; sprouting bulbs; tight buds on  dogwoods, and so much more. It's not dead: it's just ready and waiting. That's what I love about the winter that follows. It is the necessary cold that brings all this to proliferation in good old, easy-to-love spring.

Here's a quote, that I like:

     "In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature." - Edna O'Brien, Irish Novelist

Well, I can't wait. Inner things are already beginning to happen as I scoot around on my butt in the dirt and look up at the sky. Soon the yellow moon, still impressively large, will rise, and all will be as it should be. Thank you. Thank you. I'm just so grateful.

BTW, word nuts, I capitalize Autumn because it is my favorite season and deserves the recognition.

Yadda, Yadda, Yadda

I notice from my recent postings that I seem to be on a repetitive theme. I apologize. I just need to stop looking at FB; television; and listening to radio. I'm pretty sure I'll be alright then, but I may have to stay indoors as well.

Yeah, What She Said

When will our consciences grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it? - Eleanor Roosevelt

   I grow so weary of the angry, dualistic postings on Facebook. They sound so ugly, so lacking in perspective. One side is right, and that makes might, and apparently some of us don't even want to hear about a different point of view. Maybe someone forgot to broadcast the news: "To Listen Does Not Mean That You Have to Agree, but You Might Learn Something."
   I would like to add that the definition of "Enemy" is not "Someone Who Disagrees With You." 
   It isn't just Facebook, we battle it out day after day, spewing out the most awful name-calling and accusations toward the "other side". I have a friend at church, nicest person you would ever want to meet. One day in the Post Office parking lot, she was verbally assaulted, and required the intervention of a bystander to prevent a possible physical assault, because a man disagreed with her liberal bumper stickers. (I may have mentioned this in a previous post, but it is so shocking to me, I'm repeating it.)
    We are all worried about terrorists, that we can agree upon, but a news analysis I heard the other day really made me stop and think. 
     The ideologist extremists who perpetrate these atrocities want us to be angry at each other. They want us to point a finger at "those people"; argue and accuse about what to do; turn us into the kind of people who are able to view suffering people as our enemy, and turn our guns on each other. Oh, and  to conduct a Presidential campaign of ludicrous and dangerous slander and innuendo by candidates who don't know what they are talking about. It's a sound-bite side-show, and we know who is in the lead by the glaring headlines produced by the provocative questions that generate the equally provocative response.
      Meanwhile, back to the terrorists. We Americans are so distracted by arguing and threatening each other, that we are destroying ourselves from within. We so exhaust ourselves fighting with each other, that we would have little left to battle the real enemies when they show up (if we can even agree who they are). The terrorists are laughing at us: they have a calculated plan to use our divineness against us. 

I am worried about our country. We seem to be getting further and further from a concept of "We the People" and moving toward me and mine. I fear that we are also moving further and further from our own cherished definitions of who we are:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

********

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. 

******

I worry about us. I don't have answers with big scope, but I do think we can begin listening to each other. The person with the different perspective is a worthy human being; an American; and desperately seeking for him/herself and his/her family the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I would like to see us, just once in the coming holiday season (ok, more than once is better) to forgo posting another contentious FB posting and seek out someone we know to think/believe differently from us and listen to what they have to say. It's not even necessary to argue back. Thank them for sharing their views; agree to disagree and walk away as brothers and sisters. Yes, it will be more difficult than sitting in our pajamas firing off something or hitting the "share" button on FB, but we all used to be up to handling difficult tasks.

We could try this at our next family holiday gathering. It might prevent someone from stomping away from the table, vowing never to return.

Think about one of my all-time favorite bumper stickers:

DON'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU THINK!