It’s a beautiful summer day. Fog sits on the ridge but will probably move gently out.
This morning I’m with the number of “Karen’s” threatening to call the police. The latest is near me on Mount Tam. A woman threatens to call the police on an Asian couple hiking with their daughter and dog. She tells them to go back home, and yet, home is here, in this country.
I truly don’t understand.
In each case, the woman has been fired from her job, and rightly so, but where does it even come from? They’re not old women. They appear to be in their forties, the age of my children.
How is it to live with such hate and fear?
This morning I feel sad. Mt. Tam is my place of healing. When I walk on her trails, I feel that no blood has been shed here. It’s not like going to Assisi in Italy, a place I love, but battle after battle has taken place on the ground below the town. Mt. Tam has been a place of peace.
In San Francisco, the CAREN Act could impose criminal charges on people who call 911 because of racial bias on another person. CAREN stands for Caution Against Racially Exploitative Non-Emergencies.
I’m glad for the response that is occurring because of cell phones. We’re seeing what’s hard to comprehend, hearing it, and I feel sad. I keep reading that we might think we want to go back to “normal”, but that isn’t what we should want. We want and need change, and the pandemic is bringing about huge and necessary change. We’re in this together, and daily that becomes more clear.
Right now, flowers are everywhere blooming in a range of colors, petals, and sizes.
Might we be as exuberant, unfolding our petals as platforms on which to be kind.