How do we stay sane amidst the cruelty, tragedy, theft, greed, and lies of the Trump administration?
My grandson has been staying with us, so I’m with the beauty of this world. Together, he and I watch the light change in the sky as we observe the squirrels, birds, and trees.
I’ve had Mohs surgery before but because there were complications this time, it has been a bit of an ordeal. My eyes are swollen and ringed with purple and black. My head is heavy. I’ve been in pain. What I’ve learned though as I ice the area and drink green tea, is the power of meditation, just being with the breath. Since that’s all I can do I feel the power in it, the relief. We have this tool and ability all the time but we are often busy with our “to-do” list and miss the point. Presence is a present as we know and when we’re forced to stop and pause, it’s even more clear. Each breath is a gift.
As I continue to go to the natural world to counteract the news, I’m with the last stanza of William Stafford’s poem, “A Message from Space” from his book The Way It Is.
And then the green of leaves calls out, hills
where they wait or turn, clouds in their frenzied
stillness unfolding their careful words:
“Everything counts. The message is the world.”
Because I’m too old to be an astronaut viewing our fragile, diverse planet from space, I left the fog to drive up to the top of Mt. Tam, and circle through landscapes.
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.
Yesterday I attended an all-day meditation retreat titled “With compassion, we turn the tide.” I can’t convey how it felt then and how it feels now, but I’m reverberating with the offering, the generosity and dedication of this group of nuns, and what each of us might bring to our lives and the lives around us. Here’s a documentary video to give a sense of the dedication a group of people choose in bringing generosity and compassion to their lives and the lives of others.
Today, a misty, slightly rainy day, I ended up above Muir Woods. I took the Ocean View Trail to the Canopy Trail down to Redwood Creek. After a visit to the cafe, I traveled up the Fern Trail back to the top. I offer photos of my journey.
In one tricky spot, I met three young people enjoying a snack. As I debated how to traverse the roots, one of the men offered two hands to help me down. I was reminded of years ago when on a hot day I’d walked from Pantoll down to Stinson Beach where, fully clothed, I walked straight into the Pacific Ocean and swam. When I emerged, a young boy stood there offering me a towel. Helpers abound.
I was at Rodeo Beach today. The fog was in and the beach was covered with Vellella vellella, a result of the recent full moon tides.
I hadn’t realized each apparent individual is a hydroid colony, composed of tiny, anemone-like creatures. Related to jellyfish, they are carnivorous, and catch their prey, mainly plankton, with tentacles dangling in the water.
Today, I’m again overwhelmed with a president who, on an ever-changing whim, goes against the constitution to levy tariffs that affect each one of us and everyone in the world, and that is just one thing he does daily. Therefore, I opened Stay Inspired, Shelter in Place, 2020. It’s an expensive book but 100% of the profits are donated to NO KID HUNGRY.
This book is the inspiration of Lisa Dolby Chadwick, who is the founder of the Dolby Chadwick Gallery. You can order the book through the gallery. It’s a collection of poetry and art. Open to any page and find beauty and comfort, perhaps even laughter.
In Dean Young’s poem “Whale Watch”, I smile and recognize these words:
… I have seen books with pink slips
marking vital passages
but this i do not recommend
as it makes the book appear foolish
like a dog in a sweater.
Here’s the last line of Rilke’s poem “Sunset” translated by Robert Bly.
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.
Again, I recommend Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem, “So Much Happiness” which can be found at poets.org.
Ken Wilber:
Great art suspends the reverted eye, the lamented past, the anticipated future: we enter with it into the timeless present; we are with God today, perfect in our manner and mode, open the riches and glories of a realm that time forgot, but that great art reminds us of: not by its content, but what what it does in us: suspends the desire to be elsewhere. And thus it undoes the agitated grasping in the heart of the suffering self, and releases us – maybe for a second, maybe for a minute, maybe for all eternity – releases us from the coil of ourselves.
This book is great art and releases us from the coil of ourselves.
I finished the book My Head for a Tree: The Extraordinary Story of the Bishnoi, Guardians of Nature by Martin Goodman. These guardians show us how to live when we honor and value interconnectivity, oneness, wholeness, and this world we share.
I spiral on the words on my Flying Edna Desktop Calendar. “I do not go to the forest to be alone. I go to be with the ones who speak without human words.”
As we’re inundated with stories of political horror, it’s important and essential to be with the beings who give us oxygen, and share our roots and nourish our soil and soul.
Cathy's Blog! 