I’m struggling today with the execution of Alex Pretti, an execution carried out in plain sight and recorded, and yet, again, we are told to deny our own eyes.
I come to David Whyte’s poem “The Well of Grief” for solace, and these words of Albert Camus: In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
We can’t look away and we need to trust even more deeply what we see and feel. I understand the term “bleeding heart”. My heart bleeds.
In my meditation these days, I keep seeing and feeling the daily growth of my two Amaryllis plants. Each has its own rhythm, and reach. One is now two feet tall, and the other has settled gently in at one. I’m struggling with the photo of five year old Liam Conejo Ramos in a blue knit hat with white bunny ears and pompoms. I can’t believe I live in a country where this is happening.
I’m also with a poem by Ilya Kaminsky, “Psalm For the Slightly Tilted”.
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2026/01/26/psalm-for-the-slightly-tilted-ilya-kaminsky-poem
I live in a county with a high percentage of seniors, and I’m struck by this last stanza of the poem as it feels so true of the protests I’ve attended.
These are your coffee-stained saints
who rise not with trumpets
but with Advil.
They stand
and wait
creased like maps
of a country
that doesn’t exist anymore.
To counteract the news, I focus on Awareness and these words of Thich Nhat Hanh:
Awareness is like the sun. When it shines on things, they are transformed.
Grandson has been here visiting. Inspired by the work of David M. Bird, he headed out into the yard to create his own additions to the garden. Check David out here: https://www.davidmbird.com
You can watch Governor Walz speak on YouTube as he defends what this country is about and what Trump and his cronies are working to destroy. Go to YouTube and watch “Governor Walz addresses ongoing federal presence in Minnesota”. Tragic!
The aftermath of the funeral march on Sunday at the Marin Civic Center is still with me. Over 1500 people gathered the to protest the deaths by ICE.
Robert Hubbell today: Since the first day of his second term, Donald Trump has refused to follow the Constitution. This month, Trump is asking Congress to continue his lawless reign by passing a “continuing resolution” that will fund the government at its current levels—including its current levels of lawlessness.
Congress should refuse to do so. Instead, Congress should: Defund Trump, Defund and abolish ICE, Defund and abolish the Department of Homeland Security, Defund Trump’s ability to invade sovereign nations and NATO allies, and Defund the corrupt DOJ that investigates the victims of crime and protects the out-of-control thugs wearing facemasks and flak jackets.
Is it “radical” to suggest “defunding” major agencies in the federal government? Hmm. . . let’s see. What did Donald Trump threaten to do today? He threatened to “defund” every state that has a “sanctuary city” —which means Trump will “cut off” federal funds to states representing 37% of the American population.
To be clear, Trump. has no authority to “cut off” funding to any state or city. Congress controls appropriations and the president is obligated by law to carry out those appropriations. But Trump has been violating his obligation to “faithfully execute the laws” by refusing to spend money as directed by Congress.
I just read James Rebanks book, The Place of Tides. Rebanks writes of a summer he spent on a remote Norwegian Island where he learned from 70 year old Anna Masoy, known as the Norwegian “duck woman”, about the ancient tradition of collecting eiderdown from eider ducks. Her dedication has brought the ducks back to these islands, ducks threatened by the introduction of minks and other predators. It shows the power of one woman, and right now, we have thousands of people across the country demonstrating against the policies of Trump.
Today in Heather Cox Richardson: On Sunday, David Marcus of Fox News warned that “organized gangs of wine moms” are using “Antifa tactics to harass and impede Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents.” He claimed that those people organizing to protect their neighborhoods from ICE may be “criminal conspiracies.” He complained of “self-important White women” protesting “with a weird and disturbing glee.” He seemed to threaten them by warning: “if we simply allow these cosplaying would-be revolutionaries to do whatever they want…, Renee Good will not be the last to needlessly die.”
“Organized groups of wine moms”. Wow! I do love my glass of wine, but I can tell you there was no “weird and disturbing glee” on Sunday. It was a funeral procession, and my heart is still heavy with the weight and sorrow of the experience.
Yesterday I attended a protest/vigil in Marin County. We gathered at the Veteran’s Auditorium, and walked in a long and winding line around and through the Civic Center leaving flowers in front of the sheriff’s office and next to photos and names of the 33 people killed by ICE. Our sheriff’s office cooperates with ICE and we want ICE out of Marin. We were told to wear black, and bring a flower and did, so it was a sober line that stretched before and behind me. Six coffins had been made of cardboard and painted black and covered with flowers were carried along the route. It was a sober and quiet group. The event began with twelve minutes of speeches, most of that a prayer, so we began walking after saying Amen. Volunteers carried recorders repeating the names of the 33 people killed. Tears come enough now as I feel the immensity of the event, the power of people gathering to silently speak for empathy, morality, and Truth.
I’m awake now, up in the night. I’ve been sitting outside with the stars and a sky streaked with light wondering, receiving, embracing what might be as we come to Peace and walk with others in quiet and love.
Like so many of us, I am sobered, stunned, shocked, and suffering with the continuing onslaught of horrific political news. And yet this morning I experienced the gift of coming together with a group of 72 people from around the world led by Russell Delman to celebrate our personal embodiment as well as to be part of a field of people who unite in the cultivation and sharing of Love and Compassion.
Today we grieve the murder of Renee Nicole Good, murder by ICE agents as she attempted to comply with their orders. She was a legal observer volunteering to help protect vulnerable immigrants, a mother of three children and an award-winning poet. Her youngest child, 6 years old, is now orphaned.
Both Pam Bondi and Donald Trump defamed her immediately following her death, labeling her a domestic terrorist and making gross misstatements about what actually took place. The facts are available for all to see. Their lies are exposed.
As we grieve, we unite and fight, with “effortless effort” as Dogen, the founder of the Soto School of Zen in Japan, put it, with the ease with which a bud rises, emerges, and graces the world.
I always look forward to a new year. In this case, I’ve stayed positive despite a horrific cold and cough, and the political news which seems to get worse each day.
I’ve also learned that Teslas are at high risk for damage by rats and mice because the company uses soya protein in the engine wires, as well as peanut oil as lubricant. Who knew? Yum! Also, when the battery is charging it becomes warm, attracting rodents. Our car is kept in the garage except for the last almost two weeks because it is at the Tesla dealer waiting for a new part to fix the damage from one hungry and clever rat.
The rat has been illusive but finally was willing to accept peanut butter, and is waiting in a humane trap for a lull in the rain so it can be driven somewhere for release. I don’t know what its fate will be after that.
To counter all this, my son sent me this article by Kevin Kelly to cheer me up. It’s titled How Will the Miracle Happen Today, and invites pronoia, the opposite of paranoia.
I’m also with the wit and insight of Steven Wright: I have a large seashell collection, which I keep scattered on beaches all over the world. Maybe you’ve seen it.
The sun was shining on Tuesday and I took a photo of the shadow of a hand-made windchime we bought at Arcosanti in Arizona. In the photo I see a Chinese character, and though the Chinese character for poetry is often translated as “speech temple”, I find myself with these words of Carl Sandburg: Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.
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