Strength

Wasn't it nice, while we were just waiting for the wave to hit the shore? Sure, it was unpleasant to think about how big it would be, but it was also peaceful, in a way. 

So here we are. The turbulence of this past week mimics the turbulence of the post-election moment I know we all felt. That unease was of course fueled by the realization that what we are now experiencing (the pit in our stomach of loss, horror, and disbelief) would come as he took office and took control. And now, here we are, seeing it unfold. Riding the waves. 

And the words I wrote the day after the election are still true, and maybe helpful to revisit:

Unfortunately, a lot of things make sense now that have been floating up for me. Building up my regular yoga practice. Ideas for change that can be made at the local level. Gathering women. Owning a house in Maine. Training my system for peace. I won’t let Trump and a Trump win steal my peace. It’s been too hard earned for me to let it go. I know what makes me strong, and I will do it. 

I learned before that there are ways to react out of fear and anger, and I don’t want to do that. I want to act out of joy, and love, and vision, and purpose. To move from a place of balance, using the tools that I want to see in the world I’m trying to create. Be the change. Use new thinking to solve the old problems. Hate got us here. 

Have our feelings - we should feel and express and know the feelings, but not every feeling is worth acting on. Find spaces to grieve and rage. Then make spaces for building, for sorting, for connecting, for positive energy.

I won’t make assumptions about what Trump will do now. I won’t make assumptions about the people who voted for him. I will maintain curiosity, and concern, and attention… while also taking breaks, because it is not the only thing in the world. Because I have to fill my own cup and keep my line straight. 

I know you’re afraid. Maybe tired. It was just starting to seem like maybe we were getting to a good place. It feels overwhelming. Like we're back in 2016. But we're not. Much has happened. The work we've done since then was real and has not been lost.

By now, after COVID and the last 8 years, hopefully you also know what makes you strong. What makes you able to be the person you want to be. If you don’t, start there. What do you need to do to maintain your own peace, to emotionally regulate, to keep focused on what is good and pure and true? DO that. Commit to it. Take care of yourself first. 

Stay cool in your veins, keep warmth in your heart. 

So where we don't have to make assumptions anymore about what Trump will do, because we've seen... a lot already... we can maintain attention to see what the rest of our country does. Because that remains unknown, to be seen. And certainly where the real action is, if you take the longer view. 

Also, it appears that the writers of Saturday Night Live must read my blog. Or Letters to a Nation? Or someone on their staff knows their history! 

Last Saturday's Opening Sketch: https://youtu.be/oDtSQVj0qzg?si=tKVZC8vdV7mMHteE 

Since most of you had no idea (like me) that the Declaration of Independence was a suicide pact, it totally threw me that they had a similar approach. Great minds think alike?

Inauguration

"Inauguration (def.): the beginning of a system, policy, or period."

This time feels different. I am not tempted to leave my job, and rush to my dearest national advocacy organization, meaningful though that choice was... I am not as shocked and stunned, sadly, as the first time around. And I am not feeling pulled to march in the streets, at least not at the moment. And apparently, I'm not alone - the numbers of people protesting and planning to protest through mass marches is down. 

The lack of protest does not mean we do not protest. It means we are reserving our energy because standing in the street with others does not feel like the best use of effort. At least it does for me.

I was looking for a touchstone this morning, to stay focused on what matters and seek guiding wisdom as much as the latest drama and political updates. I'm not on social media* at the moment, so I'm not getting my usual sources philosophical and social commentary. So I turned to my bookshelf. For my 17th birthday, my dad gave me the book, Letters of a Nation, edited by Andrew Carroll. His inscription was helpful (as they usually were). 

Keep writing. Keep reading. Get inspired and enlightened. 

That is a welcome suggestion. I newly see myself as a middle-aged person, and I'm interested in the positionality of that. In relation to younger people, I guess. Instead of just defining myself, which felt like the work of the 20s and 30s, now I'm armed with a breadth and depth of knowledge, experience, perspective, values... which may be of interest or use to others. And as a writer, that is appealing. 

I read the foreword and introduction to the book (also good), before rushing to the section on "Letters of a New Nation." The letter that grabbed my eye was from Benjamin Rush to John Adams, recounting (among other things) how the signers of the Declaration of Independence believed it to be a suicide mission, basically. (!!) They did not in any way expect to win the war against Britain, and figured that there was a good chance the British would specifically kill all the signers for their treasonous act. Dr. Rush was looking back 25 years later, after a 4th of July celebration, from the vantage point when the happy ending of 1776 was very clear to a time when it most certainly was not. 

Did you hear about that in history class? That the declaration of independence was the thing that started it - the risky act? That it was viewed by some as perhaps a futile measure?

My family, blood and chosen, are people of words. I know that words matter. I don't know exactly how mine might, but maybe I don't need to. I just know writing down what we believe is a good thing to do, and potentially a risky thing. But maybe that's kind of the point. 

*I logged off Facebook and Instagram on Saturday, for the foreseeable future. I moved myself onto Bluesky and Retro (and LinkedIn and Pinterest, lol).

Resurrection

Perhaps like you, I have an ambivalent relationship with astrology. On one hand, I am clearly a Cancer Sun with Gemini Rising (a deep feeling, nurturing lover of information, comfortable with paradox). That's just obvious. I receive the astrological predictions that float through my world with a mix of attention and amusement. Who knows what it all means? Maybe something! I am always open to anything offering a big picture view on the many whims and winds of energy swirling around us. For instance, Pluto in Capricorn, 2008-2024: 

"Pluto’s transit of Capricorn tends to coincide with the rise and fall of empires, and sees big changes in the rules and structures that shape society in politics and religion. Theories and ideals are brought down to earth and put into practice, and anything that doesn’t work is thrown out – no matter how noble."

Well, yeah. Definitely. That holds up.

So, in looking back at the last time I wrote on this blog, just under 10 years ago, I wonder what astrological cycle relates to the change of that time and where we are now. I remember the me then, and the words sound like a version of me, but so. much. has changed. And yet here I am, back to the same place. 2015/2016 was a clear marker for change in my life: after Trump was elected, we moved to the Boston area, I started a new job, and those things were pretty all-consuming. At that point, I turned to write in my "secret" private blog more (until the fall of 2019), and then that fell off too. 

My writing has continued. I journal. I've written some missives to my community in major moments. My poetry activity peaked around the time I stopped publishing it on here. Thanks to grief, change, and global upheaval, I've had lots to process! ;) And a few nice poets and writers in my world offered fertile space to create and share. 

For the last few years, I've been toying with the idea of sharing my poetry more widely. I sent in submissions to the New Yorker (yes, I know, aiming high), a regional poetry magazine, and was rejected from both. I may still try again at a new venue. 

But a few months ago, I got the clear sense that my priority was just to share my poetry, and I actually didn't care if I got paid (and perhaps prefer to avoid the commodification). So, I decided I should stop trying to get published by someone else and put my writing on a blog. To share publicly and freely. And of course, I already had one... I just had to find it.

It took me a few months to get here, but I knew I wanted to come back to this space, which has been a great place for me to find and use my voice. To resurrect this sweet blog. I just had to fight with Google a little bit to get back in here. But I'm in! I'm here. 

So I have some poetry to share. Maybe I can even get back into longer form writing. I do have a book that I want to write... But I don't really know what to expect from my writing and a space like this at this point in my life. What parts of me have evolved? What conditions in the world have evolved? What about me is still the same? 

TBD. Or maybe I can find some astrological explanation. I'll keep you posted.