Sanity

Today I walked Tennessee Valley to the beach after reading this from Lisa Friedman, the climate reporter for the NY Times:

During his presidency, Donald Trump dissolved more than 100 environmental regulations. If elected again, he would kill any federal effort to study and fight climate change, encourage oil and gas companies to “Drill, Baby, Drill” and restrict the government agency that protects air and water.

I returned home to learn that a quarter-million Washington Post readers canceled their subscriptions after Jeff Bezos declined to allow the paper to endorse Kamala Harris, a figure first reported by NPR and then by The Post itself. That is about 10 percent of the total circulation. 

While walking, I remembered being on Monhegan Island almost 30 years ago.  A man had fallen down a cliff and rescuers rappelled down to bring him up on ropes.  There were no roads or cars so a group of us alternated, three on each side,  one in front, and one in back, carrying the stretcher along the paths to the dock where he could be put on a boat. On an island, it’s clear we’re in this together, but this earth is also an island,  a fragile environment we share.  We’re interdependent.  We care.  

Heart shell on the beach
Flow
Sounds of frogs – an environment that’s clean

Bernie

My vote has already been counted and I’ve been clear on who I support, not saying she is perfect, or that I agree with everything that’s going on, but come on. Here’s Bernie stressing what’s at stake in this election. Thank you Bernie!

Love and Compassion

I continue to be shocked by the MAGA campaign culminating last night at Madison Square Garden.  I savor clouds floating over the ridge, and soothe with words of the Dalai Lama.  

“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. 

Without them, humanity cannot survive.”

Clouds move through a blue sky!

Celebration

This is my week to celebrate turning and being 75 years old.  A friend reminds me that we read the book The Second Half of Life by Angeles Arrien when we turned 50. My friend is re-visiting the book, and so now am I.  Its meaning is both different and the same as 25 years ago.  We are a process after all.  We are verbs, not nouns.  And as the body says “I am a fiesta,” I feel more clearly the unifying fiesta of body, mind, and spirit. How glorious it is to be alive and aware of each moment as precious, and a gift.

Eduardo Galeano – in Walking Words 

The Church says: The body is a sin.

Science says: The body is a machine.

Advertising says: The body is a business.

The body says: I am a fiesta.  

Mermaid skeleton – who knows what evolves
Autumn Abundance
Up and down
Tide coming into the marsh
Fragrance

Nature

Today I was at the Sonoma Botanical Garden.

I’m with these words of Rachel Carson:

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.

The Lower Pond
Reflecting
What’s real?
Intricacy

Freedom

Last night I read an excerpt from Alexei Navalny’s memoir on how and why he gave his life for freedom.

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/10/21/alexei-navalny-patriot-memoir

Today, Heather Cox Richardson explains very clearly what a Trump election would mean. It’s Hitler’s playbook, repeated.

There’s so much at stake and yet there are people who aren’t seeing it. I was at a party on Saturday astonished at some of the statements, and so here we are, and we will all be grateful when the campaigning is over, and we know which way the country goes.

Honoring Peace and discussion that honors Truth in Speech

Celebration

Yesterday we enjoyed a birthday party for our grandson turning five.  The theme was Pirates, and there was an array of young pirates at the party, a party of seventy people young and old.  The youngest was a smiling, active eight month old, and the oldest, grandson’s great-grandmother, a spry 101.

I’m with the words of Joanna Macy: 

The web of life both cradles us and calls us to weave it further.

A section of the pirate ship grandson’s dad built in the yard.

Reading

From Ron Charles today in the Washington Post:

At the opening ceremony of the Frankfurt Book Fair, Turkish-British writer Elif Shafak said, “In a world that remains deeply polarized and bitterly politicized, and torn apart by inequality and wars, and the cruelty we are capable of inflicting on each other and on Earth, our only home, in such a troubled world, what can writers and poets even hope to achieve? What place is there for stories and imagination when tribalism, destruction and othering speak more loudly and boldly?” (I’m quoting from notes that Shafak sent to me.)

Shafak, whose most recent novel is “There Are Rivers in the Sky,” spoke with longing for the 21st century that never arrived — or at least hasn’t yet. She recalled the flutter of international optimism when the Berlin Wall fell, the Soviet empire broke apart, and the internet promised to create a well-informed electorate. In those heady days, for a moment at least, it felt possible to see a bright future for peace and democracy. 

“Fast forward, today,” she said, “we are living in a world in which there is way too much information, but little knowledge and even less wisdom.… As we scroll up and down, more out of habit than out of anything else, we have no time to process what we see. No time to absorb or reflect or feel. Hyper-information gives us the illusion of knowledge.” 

“For true knowledge to be attained we need to slow down. We need cultural spaces, literary festivals, an open and honest intellectual exchange.”

I continue to read that in reading novels we gain empathy.  Focusing, we enter another’s mind and world.  We’re exposed to lifestyles, characters, choices and worlds wider and broader than we may personally know.

It’s a challenge to continue to see lies reported as truth. It’s discouraging to know the money that is poured into a race to destroy our democracy, and yet there are books to read and places like the Bay Area Children’s Museum to go and return to joy, creativity, thoughtfulness, and trust.

A fish flies at the museum
Music vibrates the air
Looking through a portal
Reflecting
Touching and Seeing

Enchantment

We’ve been with our almost five-year old grandchild for the last three days.

I sit here now lifted on wings thinking of how a child can run and their feet don’t even touch the ground.

Yesterday we went to the Children’s Discovery Museum on a foggy day.  By the water, we saw a huge flag and people gathering in uniforms. It was a memorial/funeral for the line-of-duty death of Lieutenant Brian Kyono, who passed away after succumbing to occupational cancer.  Bagpipes played in the fog, and Amazing Grace rang through the air.  As the fireboat sprayed water, the sun broke through.

We then went to the Railroad Museum in Tiburon, a 19 year achievement put together by ten men.  Grandchild talked on an old-fashioned phone with a man on a cell phone.  He loved the adding machine, seeing the numbers print out when he pressed them.  

At the ice cream store, grandchild chose fresh orange juice over gelato, and after dinner we sat outside and wished on stars and engaged in a round-robin of questions and raising our hand to answer, and so today, a quiet morning of absorption and missing an exuberant, cuddly, and unique being.

View from the Playground at Stinson Beach on Tuesday
View from the Discovery Museum of the Memorial Flag
Wings
Honoring a fallen brother fireman
Tiburon is Changed. Condos, not water through the front windows.
Angel Island outside the back windows of the museum
A docent shows him how to use the phone.
Communication in the past
The fun of learning numbers on an adding machine!

“Isness”

No creature is so tiny that

it lacks isness.

If a caterpillar falls off a tree,

It climbs up a wall in order to preserve its isness.

So noble is isness!

– Meister Eckhart

Egret by the Bay