This was an especially tough holy week in the US- so much misery and unrest especially surrounding gun violence. I was moved by the two black men and one white woman in TN house and all those they represent and the young people gathered in the state capitol demanding common sense changes to our laws. Yet what struck me the most were the faces of the republicans who in lock step expelled the two black representatives, an obvious demeaning dismissal of them along racial and political lines. This was another inflection point for our nation and with it, some good trouble that may have unintended consequences for the Republicans.
This week, a holy one Where fiery images on TV blare and legislative bills shoot with rapid fire aim, locked and loaded state by state outrageously searching for answers to nonexistent problems, stripping away the rights of those with more to lose and with it ripping apart the very fabric of who we are…. A festering unease turns to unrest until it boils over Arms raised The Tennessee 3 Walk into the well, one by one Pleading their case for who? For freedom, democracy, For the very right to exist? With a target on their backs They carry a message that embodies A cacophony of screams from the collective that sent them there an echo begging to heard the true will of the people. Let us go! Let us be free from these chains of modern-day slavery from the shackles of inequity, of fear, confusion and complacency hog-tied by the dark monies gathered in the belly of the NRA and wrapped in the shadows of inherent racism that no longer lay dormant Oh no, those old ghosts surely rise again sheets now removed these white men and women blind faith in their own purity flowing in their veins for centuries now they listen with scant toleration on deaf ears their judgement already sealed. But now a chanting beat can no longer be ignored younger generations, crying for change Weary of years cowering under desks Begging to be seen an unwilling army forced to the front lines since birth No more thoughts and no more prayers, please They’ve had enough this blasphemy! Their roaring grows louder No more sacrificial lambs A symphonic demand for a release from these insane and arcane systems of bondage will no longer stand. On this holy weekend that marks Easter, It should not be lost on us all what Jesus and his disciples Knew to be That after death, The promise of rebirth anew So roll that old stone away And unveil the truth Let us break through to a new state of enlightenment for if we have any hope to survive, thrive and live in peace as we were created to be The time for rising is now.
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PART ONE: Confession I have a confession. In that empty week between Christmas and NYE, when everyone’s in a holidaze hangover, With nothing to do but wait for the ball to drop. I, couch bound, with a belly full of leftover cheese and sweets, spend countless hours doom scrolling through my socials searching, with each flick of my right thumb hurtling down a digital black hole of those never-ending, dreaded psychic predictions for the new year. What am I hoping to find, you ask? I’m not sure, but desperate I become in this addictive pursuit. Through the hundreds of Tik Tok Miss Cleo’s, Wheel-of-fortune tellers, self-professed astrologers and keyboard Nostradamus experts I search (with 20% accuracy) for some glimmer of hope. Maybe a prophetic promise or just a little optimistic fix to renew my faith that maybe just maybe, this year, this world will globally, politically, spiritually, economically that maybe 2023 will not suck! PART TWO: Predictions Now, with growing frustration and cynicism, it is clear to see, I'm not alone in my need to know, but are the answers really in the Cosmos or right here within me? We hear the word "manifestation" a lot these days, and it's become annoying- just another thing to add to our long to-do lists. Yet this year, my gut tells me it may be the only way to predict what will happen to me. So, here I write my own manifesto of predictions for 2023 knowing I cannot control the fate of the universe, Yet I can envision my own to some degree.
There is a certain vulnerability I feel in sharing this list, but as the saying goes, best laid plans. The same can be said for new year’s resolutions. However, mine are predictions, neither resolute nor 100% accurate. They are my own hopes for my future journey in 2023. I have a few more but they are more personal and best kept within. What will happen across the world this year is anyone’s guess, but maybe if we all focus on personal pursuits to spread joy within ourselves and others, we can collectively manifest a world where love and peace reign. They say I’m a dreamer…. 😉 What are your dreams, prayers or predictions for 2023? Last week, I spent 5 days alone- the husband and girls off on their own paths, and it was glorious. During this week stars aligned and on three different occasions, spontaneous gatherings with special women in my life happened. They say things happen in threes, and that it can be very powerful. I would agree...
It is not lost on me The power of three In three special moments last week It occurred to me I was intuitively called To gather With these special three dear friends A rectilinear connection symbolically drawn together across a divine feast. The lines between us unseen yet perfectly aligned Bubbles in hand We raised a glass A perfect trio Magnetic in its exchange of mind and spirit Where safe disclosures were made, Recent triumphs celebrated And quiet worries consoled. A moment in time so precious Not a Calming rain shower Or the bustling of restaurant chatter Or a late summer breeze wrestling in the trees overhead Could break the spell Of this beautiful coven of the divine feminine, its mystique truly fulfilled as three. It is not lost on me that Sometimes the ties that bind weaken Release and Let go. But those that continue their triangular pull That serve to uplift our souls and fill our hearts Those are meant to complete us A bond only three Can truly be. Thoughts on why we continue to accept societal norms and systems that no longer serve us whether it be personal (careers, relationships) or as a society (governmental, economic and belief systems). Maybe a cheesy train metaphor that runs on and on will help you envision a better future. This is still pretty rough and needs major editing/shortening, but you'll get the drift.
When a train jumps the tracks Changes directions Or re-routes, It's either seen as a pre-programmed switch point or a derailment. What the difference really comes down to is who’s driving the train. Much is the same in how we conduct The path we’re on in life- The relationships we have, The places we live or travel to, The habits we keep, The careers we choose to endure. The trains of today are most often run by computers. Apparently that takes the pressure off the drivers- allows them not really have to critically think Or consider the impact Of the path they're on or why. If the driver falls asleep, Supposedly the computer ensures safety. Yet in reality it might be That if there’s a glitch in the system, Or dangerous conditions ahead warrant a change in course, a pivot or a manual redirection, if you will, The train driver’s only way to self-preservation to avoid collision or disaster is to override the system. What the difference really comes down to is whether the driver is willing to consider and opt for another outcome. I’ve noticed this happening within the minds and lives of many people lately. For years, they've been going through the motions, traveling through time, no questions or commotion coming from their engine or the caboose. Until now. Perhaps it’s the sudden realization That soon they’ll be out of tracks. Maybe when they really look out those train windows, and truly grasp the myriad of possible points with which they could've taken a different path, grasped the places, people and experiences passed by, lost and left behind before they hit their last stop. Those reading this might even think this silly little train metaphor is about them (and it could be), But it’s really about a collective awakening, A conscious unapologetic unacceptance, A rejection of ruling foundations that no longer serve greater good or soothe the soul. And isn’t it thrilling to imagine where it all could lead? If we stopped worrying or being imprisoned by the fear Of ditching the well-worn trail, And instead hit the switch point, the pull lever back and instead clear a new path of most resistance? What the difference might be is how bad the driver wants to hit the brakes to save himself. We're at a cross-roads now, Both at the soul level and as a society. As the maddening drone of the same churning wheels turn, Making the same calculated squeaky stops And passing the same dull ineffective scenes play over again along the way, What humanity aches for most in this life, in this world Is a new approach. Imagine grabbing the wheel, pulling the levers and screaming STOP- I want to get off! Stepping off the platform now, waving goodbye as the wind rushes up and a blaring horn sounds, jarring from behind, as a new train pulls into the station. A momentary ache of nostalgia as one looks back, some stay on and some will join to catch a final glimpse of the past as the familiar fades and an anxious exhilaration sets in. Fresh breath of freedom fills the lungs As they board the next train switching directions in real time, upward and onward they go. So, what's the difference for you, Who’s driving your train? Are you ready to get off Or are you one of the ones still asleep at the switch? Thoughts on a lovely college reunion of friends on beautiful Lake Charlotte in Buffalo, Minnesota.
A much-needed respite, four years in the making a precious weekend away Where heavy hearts were lifted By a reunion of dear old friends. In an unexpected return to a bubble of solace, A place where even as the years pass, So easily we boomerang back to that easy "pick-up-where-we-left-off” effortless banter. Reminiscing over vodka seltzers and glasses of Rose on a quiet candlelit screened porch we safely shared under a starry Minnesota night's sky, the state of our unions, our families, both human (and canine), of competing age-related ailments and embarrassing bathroom calamities, worries over politics and crepey skin, tearful recollections of parental losses and how unwittingly we’ve managed to become in so many ways just like them. And in the morning, a new game learned yet not nearly mastered. 80s tunes in the distance, a young buck in mirrored sunglasses with pock marked skin Taught some old broads a few new tricks. On a pickleball court, the latest fad Antics and laughter ensued, a sweaty back smile air guitars jamming on rackets And soon we became us again. With every familiar giggle, snort and high five Reminders of what will never change and what matter most What the stretch of time and age and life's tribulations can never steal Four friends A golden group Cradled in the calming, warm afternoon waters of Lake Charlotte We float on, In gratitude Of friendships divine And spirits renewed. Thoughts in response to the Highland Park mass shooting on July 4th, 2022, and on mass shootings in general.
The morning after He ascended the ladder Took aim And pulled the trigger of his own destiny, We focused on the guns The guns And the guns Again. Others criticized the madman’s use of SSRI’s, The Pills used to curb the anxiety, Qualm the urge to kill To destroy. For a young white man who had every privilege Yet didn’t work Didn’t interact Rapped into the digital vortex Wanting to be heard Wanting to matter to someone, anyone Yet who was really listening? A follow, a like, a click Is no substitute for human interaction. Big Tech, Big Pharma, Big nothing but keeping us Sick, disengaged, unfulfilled An artificial substitute for what all humans really need To be seen, heard, valued, Loved. It’s a bitter pill to swallow To know this scene will play out again And again Is there no end, no bottom, no bloody red line? Or are these dark forces of hate, inaction and deceit beckoning us Enticing us until we all pick up arms and turn on each other? The spraying of bullets Is a coward’s lazy way to make a problem disappear But the harder road to take would be to Unplug from it all. To re-engage in our humanity Re-establish our rights to protect our precious minds. To be at peace with simple pleasures unseen, Enjoy human to human connection without the barrier Of a screen An audience The constant drone of a digital Judge and Jury Telling us who to fear, who to hate even ourselves. And in the end maybe the ultimate destruction Will be everything we think we are afraid of losing- Our country, our families, our faith, our wealth, Our existence. When the last shot is fired, And the last pill swallowed When it all goes black Will our last moment of consciousness ponder Whether the guns, the likes, the fame, the money, the retribution- Was that the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness we were promised? Thoughts on our current state of political discourse in the United States.
When the dust settles, And the history books are written. If those that remain, can look back through a clearer lens where will they see you stood at this moment? Were you the one praying for change, seeking vengeance or hoping for justice? Was it yourself or for all, For the earth or for your children For the country or was it only for those who shared your world view, your faith or the color of your skin? Were your convictions rooted in righteousness, keeping the peace, in passive indifference or in making another suffer? Where were you When the hungry needed fed, the sick needed healing, When the other needed your compassion? Were you the one we see with the bullhorn- Shouting yet not hearing, Believing yet not seeing? Or were you the one quiet and unseen, delivering meals, Lending a kind hand, Trying to steady the storms around you. Where were you when it all came apart, When the flag fell and the crosses burned, when the fraying fragments of our freedoms lay tattered, trampled, and desecrated on the steps of state capitols who fueled the great fire of our demise. Were you busy ripping the stitches, Letting the edges burn with the embers of your anger? Or were you the one frantically trying to calm the flames, Patch the tears and reinforce the seams Of our once great democracy? Ask yourself now, Where were you? |
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