The Day After the Election

It's interesting to read the Facebook posts of my various friends across the country as election results came in.  Some are wildly hopeful.  Some are deeply depressed.  I suspect that many of us are a mix.

I am thrilled with the variety of people that this nation elected.  I would have been thrilled with the numbers of women elected, but words can't express how happy I am to see how many women from minority populations (minority for now) were elected.  If the past few years/decades have taught us anything, it's that aging white men won't be looking out for all of us.

To be fair, maybe any one of us will look out for the well being of our own population groups before we branch out to care about others.  I get that.  But how can so many in government have their powers of sympathy/empathy so stunted?  I have never had children, but I understand many of the issues that families with small children face, and I'd like to see a world where parents didn't have to make so many drastic, painful choices.  We'd all be better off.

And yes, I'd be happy to pay more in taxes for that to happen.

So let us be happy that so many regular folks have decided to pick up the political reigns, to try to direct this carriage in a different direction.  And let us be happy that so many of them won.

I am guessing that many of us now understand how important the political process can be.  I predict that fewer of us will say that what happens in national politics has no impact on us.  We've seen more people voting in this past midterm election than we have in the last 50 years.  Will that trend continue?  I hope so.

I'm also hoping that we move beyond thinking about what we don't want.  It seems that it's time to dream about what we do want--both as individuals and as a nation.

I confess that I don't know how to solve the larger issue--that we have some widely divergent views of what would be good for the nation.  Once I would have agreed with a friend who said, "Feed babies.  That's my platform.  No one can disagree with feeding babies."  Now I worry that we have a chunk of the population that might disagree.

But my spiritual training has taught me the limits of fear as motivation.  Far better to motivate people with a beautiful vision than with threats.  I realize that not everyone agrees with me.  I will dream my beautiful visions regardless.

Monthly Goals

I have been having luck with having one monthly goal.  In September, my monthly goal was to walk 10,000 steps every day.  I did that.  In October, I participated in a spin class challenge--each spin class, our goal was mileage--I rode hard to get my mileage up and was successful in each class.  I had planned for November to be the month where I ate 5 servings of fruits and vegetables each day.

I have already failed.  Each and every day I have failed.  But I have been writing a poem every day.  I hadn't planned to do so.  But this morning, after finishing my Penelope and arthritis poem, I realized that I was at day 6 of daily poetry writing.

Let me see if I can keep this up.  April is the traditional time to write a poem a day, and I've done that once and failed to do that several times.  November is traditionally a time where people are trying to write a novel in one huge swoop of a month.  I will sit in my corner, quietly writing a poem.

I'm also participating in an online course.  I've taken a workshop with the teacher before--she's the one at a past Create in Me retreat that turned me on to sketching with Copic markers.  We're using Joyce Rupp's Open the Door, which has a meditation for each day.  Once a week, we'll meet by way of an online Zoom meeting.  We're all part of a private Facebook group where we can post thoughts and images.

This week's readings have explored the doors of the heart.  On Sunday, I made this sketch, which is blurry, no matter how I tried to photograph it differently:

After our weekly Zoom session, I wrote a haiku and made a new sketch:

This morning, I made this Facebook post to the group:

As I woke up periodically throughout the night, I had this recurring thought: my heart is a homeless shelter. I will spend the day puzzling over this image. If my heart is a homeless shelter, who/what are the residents? Ideas that aren't welcome in the larger world? Ideas that have yet to take root in me? I don't have an image yet . . . maybe it will come later.

I am already finding November to be a month of inspiration--my goal is for that feeling to continue!

All Saints Sunday: Unbind Us!

Yesterday, I heard the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead several times.  I designed an interactive arts activity for our middle worship service that I describe in this blog post.  I also took pictures.  This one is technically a mistake, taken with the lens fogged up from the difference in temperature from inside to outside, but I like the ghostliness of it--appropriate for All Saints!

As I heard the story again and again, the lines that leapt out for me were the last ones, where Jesus orders Lazarus unbound.  And so I made this image during our later service:

I was also playing with the markers that we'll be using in the online journaling class that I'm taking.  They're colors that I might not have chosen on my own.  I used words from all of the lessons of the day:

First Reading: Isaiah 25:6-9

Second Reading: Revelation 21:1-6a

Gospel: John 11:32-44

And then I came home and did some additional work with the markers and journaling--more on that as the journaling course continues.

It was a good week-end in terms of creativity.  In addition to the fun with markers, I wrote several poems.  I read this poem about Rapunzel's stroke and immediately started thinking about Penelope's arthritis in her hands.  It won't write that poem this morning, since I need to leave to make the bread run for school.  But it will be soon!

Sunday Snippets: Fibrous Connections

--I wrote another poem this morning and figured out how to make my poem about voting stronger.  I feel a sense of gratitude that may be out of proportion.  In the times when I'm not writing poems, I worry that my muse has gone off to find someone who will tend to her inspirations more faithfully.  What if I never write a poem again?

--One of my Facebook friends posted pictures of letters and chalked graffiti that greeted Jews at her synagogue.  Unlike some stories that made the national news, these messages were ones of hope and support, not hate.

--I went to a reunion yesterday afternoon--not a high school reunion, but a reunion of all of us who had been at the Art Institute of Ft. Lauderdale.  It was unlike a high school reunion or a college Homecoming week-end, in that I remembered almost everyone who was there.  It was like those events in that I felt a bit overwhelmed by all the people and the noise.  It was hard to hold a conversation.  It was hard to make a deep connection.

--As I drove home yesterday evening, I saw people lined up to vote.  Today is the last day of early voting.  I've never seen this level of interest in an off-term election.  Regardless of the results, I'm happy to see this level of interest.  It makes me feel hopeful about the future.  The U.S. is a fibrous construction of humanity, and I have faith and hope that while we are a bit unraveled, we're far from ripped.

--I began the week-end by going to vote. I will end the week-end as I usually do, by going to church. I will be fed in ways that I expect and in ways I won't even realize until later. These week-end bookends make me feel better about the future of the country. If I spent the week-end inside, watching the various news shows and/or the unavoidable political commercials, which will be the lot of many of us this week-end, I'd have a very different view of the nation.

--A week ago, I got a phone call from my sister.  I feel like many of our phone conversations have started this way:  "Mom isn't dead, but . . . "  I also realize that these phone conversations are not the grim ones we will likely have eventually.

--Last week, I learned that my mother had had a heart incident on a plane in Spain.  Luckily the plane hadn't taken off yet.  She has spent the week in a hospital in Spain.  At one point, we thought she would need stents put in.  But the doctors couldn't find any blockage.  So, they released her, and now they are on my side of the Atlantic.  It's been a long journey home for them.  I'm relieved.

--I do wonder what this coming week will bring.  But let me rest a bit in the good news of this past week.  Let me enjoy this snippets of hope.

Nuggets of Happiness in a Gloomy Time

As the days move into November, many of us feel a bit gloomier.  The days are getting much shorter, and we are surrounded by reminders that our total time here on the planet is very short.  We do our best to make this idea festive with our Halloween decorations, our Day of the Dead celebrations. 

Let me add some nuggets of happiness to the festive days of this week:

--I went to early voting yesterday.  The lines were the longest I've ever stood in for a non-Presidential year election--a wide diversity of people all patiently waiting and chatting. It made me feel weepy with hope--a great feeling these days!  Everyone was civil and patient.  I loved all the children emerging from the voting area with "I Voted Early" stickers all over their clothes and faces.  One woman who works in the Danish bakery in downtown Hollywood brought 2 boxes of pastries for the workers.

--Voting makes me realize how much I love this giant experiment of a country.  Our democracy doesn't seem fragile when I stand in line with my fellow citizens, all of us sweating in the sun that's still intense in November in South Florida.  I stood in line with such a variety of people.  This country is so huge, both in terms of land mass, beliefs, and types of humans--it's hard to believe that we could go the way of Germany in the 1930's or the former Yugoslavia of the 1990's.

--Before we went to vote, we spent the evening reading the ballot, researching the various ammendments.  I made a joke about our romantic evening at home, doing political research, but I was partly serious.   It was a pleasant way to spend an evening, but we are odd that way as a liberal artsy couple.  We often we have similar evenings at home, at least several nights a week, talking about a variety of philosophical issues.

--After a time of not writing much poetry, I wrote 4 poems this week, and one of them came out fully formed.  I went to observe the Chemistry teacher yesterday, on the Feast of All Souls.  I came away with a poem about rust's slow will to conquer an oxidized nail--rust and oxidation and EMS compressions and people writing dissertations in geologic time and a dose of a feast day--I'm pleased with that poem.  I am less pleased with my poem about early voting, but it has potential.  I also wrote a poem rooted in home repairs, and a Halloween poem.  It's been a long, long time since I wrote 4 poems in one week.

--We had a good Halloween week at school.  Two years ago, on Halloween, I started my time here.  Many people this week wished me a happy anniversary.  I'm still happy at this campus.

It's strange to count up my happiness nuggets in a week where so many of us grieved the shooting at a synagogue and countless other losses.  But maybe in a week like this one, it's more important than ever.

Home Repairs and Elections and Feast Days

I have been up several hours, which isn't unusual for me.  I needed to get some grading done for my online class before the next batch of discussion posts comes in today.  I graded, listened to episodes of NPR's Fresh Air from earlier this week, and watched the moon rise.  The moon is larger than a fingernail, more like a melon slice.

It made me think about the last time I was watching that phase of the moon during its rise--one month ago?  Two?  I was looking out this same window, which was new to me.  It must have been early September.  And now it's early November.

We are further along in home repairs, but far from done.  The Home Depot person comes to measure the kitchen so that we can order cabinets.  Once we order the cabinets, it will be 4-6 weeks before they arrive.  I'm beginning to think that the kitchen remodel will not be complete by Christmas.  I am O.K. with that.

In many ways, we've been lucky.  We've been spending lots of time outside, and it's been pleasant.  We do most of our cooking on the grill or with one burner anyway, so the loss of the oven isn't a big deal.  And if we really needed to bake, we could use the stove in the cottage.

This afternoon, before we retire to our outside evening, we'll go cast our vote in early elections.  Last night, as the sun went to sleep, we looked over the extensive ballot:  amendments to the state constitution, various decisions about the city of Hollywood charter, judges, on and on the ballot goes.  We wanted to make our decisions in advance, where we could talk about them and look up anything that needed clarification online.  It was a pleasant way to spend an evening, but we are odd that way as a liberal artsy couple.

Part of why I'm nonplussed about the slow progress of our home repairs has to do with how strange it is to find myself in early November.  Here we are at the midterm elections.  My brain still thinks it's August.

I keep thinking about elections--that, too, has been a long, slow movement to this finish line.  And then, seemingly suddenly, we will find ourselves done.  Home repairs feel the same way--slog, slog, slog, and then, we have new and beautiful floors.

My brain also moves in liturgical directions.  Today is the Feast Day of All Souls, which is different from the Feast Day of All Saints--for more, see this post on my theology blog.

On this day, as on Halloween, I'd like to be doing something more contemplative:  lighting candles, thinking of those we have lost, maybe baking some bread.  But today will be different.

Voting--it's not a traditional way of celebrating the Feast Day of All Souls, but as I stand in the lines I expect to see, I'll pray the same kinds of prayers.

Halloween and Aging

Last night, I realized that my feelings about Halloween become more complicated as I get older.  I've always loved Thanksgiving, which is a straight forward holiday to me; it's about food and gratitude.  Likewise, Christmas:  long ago I gave up any traditions that didn't have significance to me, and I'm good at not letting society dictate how we celebrate that holiday.

But Halloween has always made me feel conflicted.  It doesn't feel safe to me, and for me, that's not about the calories in the candy or the holiday's possible links to evil spirits.  For me, that lack of safety comes from grown people dressing up in costumes which gives a lot of them permission to act in ways that are far from wise.

Lately, Halloween is a holiday that makes me feel old--or maybe I should say it makes me feel old in a different way than it once did.  When I was in grad school in my early 20's, I felt old because I didn't go drinking in bars on Halloween like so many of my peers did.  Now I feel old for other reasons.

In part, it's because I am getting older.  I ate an apple yesterday and thought about my youth, when we broke every piece of candy into pieces to make sure that no one had slid a razor blade into them.  If we got anything like a piece of fruit, we threw it away.  I wonder if modern parents still have these concerns.  I'm guessing that people worry more about the calories of candy or the ingredients more than they worry about someone putting razors into them.

Once I saw parents with their small children, and they were my age, more or less.  Now when I see people my age with small children, it's likely that they're out trick-or-treating with their grandchildren.

Last night, I watched younger teenagers getting ready for a party.  One had a wolf mask, so one of the other teenagers decided to change her costume, from being a burglar to being Little Red Riding Hood.  As I watched them construct a cape, I thought of all the various approaches to that fairy tale, the feminist interpretations along with the work of Bruno Bettelheim who analyzed fairy tales with a Freudian slant.  I am proud of myself that I didn't impart any of this wisdom to the teenagers.  Let them have their fun.

These days, I am more aware than ever of Halloween's linking to All Saints Day, which we celebrate today.   Traditionally, this day celebrates the saints who have gone on before us. Traditionalists would only celebrate the lives of the truly beatified and the lives of those martyred for the faith; we'd celebrate the more recently dead tomorrow, with the Feast of All Souls. Many modern churches have expanded this feast day (or collapsed the 2 feast days) to become a day when we remember our dead.

It's easy to get lost in grief these days. But let us not linger in the land of grief too long. One reason why I love this trio of holidays is that it reminds us that life is short and that we'd better get on with the important work that we want to do.

Most days, we move in our modern culture that wants to deny death and aging. But I often think that this denial works to our detriment. I think of John Keats, as I often do, who wrote some of the best poems in all of British literature in the few years before he died in his 20's. He woke up every day, coughed up a bit of his lungs from the TB that he had contracted, and then got to work on his poetry. He only had encouragement from a few people, but he knew what he had to do--and having watched so many die of TB, he had that sense that he had not a minute to waste.

Let us be similarly inspired by these high festival days that are upon us.