Love

I didn’t watch the Super Bowl, but this morning I watched the replay of the Half Time Show.  Wow!  So much was conveyed in the show: a wedding, love, the blackouts in Puerto Rico, giving his grammy to a five year old who represented and reminded us of the horror experienced by five year old Liam.  Benito’s message is clear.  The only thing more powerful than hate is love, and the majority of people are loving.  We have a few who don’t understand the message, but most of us do.

Together, we are America.  Together, we are one planet bound in love.

Great Blue Heron at Rodeo Beach
Great White Egret and Duck at Rodeo Beach
The two together – room, space, food, and shelter for All!

Compassion and Respect

Children speak. From The New York Times today.

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/01/31/opinion/ice-kids-liam-ramos.html?unlocked_article_code=1.IlA.rhDW.teKBFX5BEARh&smid=url-share

“You are scaring schools, people and the world,” one student at Valley View Elementary, just outside Minneapolis, wrote to Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents. Exactly a year after President Trump’s second inauguration, ICE agents detained Liam Conejo Ramos, a 5-year-old prekindergartner at Valley View. In and around Minneapolis, a city under siege by federal immigration authorities, scores of students are staying home out of fear of being abducted or have had family members who have been taken. As supplies for families too scared to leave their homes line the hallways of the school, immigration patrols rove outside and Liam languishes in a detention camp more than a thousand miles away, students have written letters to ICE agents. For the video above, Times Opinion asked some of them if they were willing to share their writing. “I think you should make friends with the world. Love, a Valley View student,” one child concluded.

Conejo means Bunny in Spanish. Bunny in Half Moon Bay
Thinking of Liam Conejo Ramos in his Bunny hat!



Childbirth

A friend’s daughter is in labor.  A circle of family and friends are with the dilation as we wait and visualize 8 cm.  I remember back to the birth of my sons, that transition period, and it can be painful, very painful, and then the reward, all pain forgotten, only the joy of a new being in the world, a deepening connection and reverence for continuing life.

Perhaps what’s happening in this country right now is childbirth.  Painfully, we gather in community to renew and expand the vows on which this country was founded.  We re-read the Constitution and Declaration of Independence over and over again, trying to teach it to those who are working to overthrow our government and create a dictatorship.  

When those who object to the policies of this corrupt administration are labeled and murdered as domestic terrorists, we come together to act, and as in childbirth, we expand in connecting new cords when one is cut.  

Opening
Hills and Streams
Pussy Willows emerge

Peace

Yesterday I walked with a friend to the beach at Tennessee Valley.  The beach was completely changed by the storms and high tides requiring a possibly wet crossing to and from the ocean.  Enjoying lunch, we savored the company of a Great Blue Heron strolling and rollicking in a graceful journey to dine on lunch.

Tasty tidbits abound
A wider view
Crossing the stream
Calm seas counteract the political news

Ziplining

As we navigate these challenging times, we respond with ease as my son Jeff does while ziplining.  We slip into our meditation posture and organize our communities. We unite.

Lydia Polgreen says let’s not label these people in Minneapolis protestors.  Let’s call them what they are: community organizers.  Her words: 

But what I saw in Minneapolis is better described as organizing and concerted action. It is an important distinction because so much of what is happening is invisible — people engaging in a form of neighborhood watch, walking vulnerable kids to school to shield them from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Church groups organizing food parcels for families too afraid to leave home. Community groups using encrypted messaging to compile spreadsheets of suspected ICE vehicles and activity. Others are logging and archiving endless amounts of evidence of ICE atrocities. This is the product of deep community organizing, not merely spontaneous actions driven by immediate anger.

Ease!

Circles of Light

Tonight I made a fire in the fireplace and lit two candles to reflect on and honor those who’ve tragically passed: Renee Good and Alex Pretti.

John Squadra wrote: When you love, you complete a circle.  When you die, the circle remains.

These two people who loved and were loved, completed many circles that now expand and remain.  

Together

The Power of Empathy and Imagination

Rebecca Solnit inspires us as to what matters in her essay today: This Cold Winter, Love is a Superpower.

One paragraph from: https://www.meditationsinanemergency.com/this-cold-winter-love-is-a-superpower/

The poet W.H. Auden wrote in a review of the final book in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, “Evil, that is, has every advantage but one – it is inferior in imagination. Good can imagine the possibility of becoming evil – hence the refusal of Gandalf and Aragorn to use the Ring – but Evil, defiantly chosen, can no longer imagine anything but itself. Sauron cannot imagine any motives except lust for domination and fear so that, when he has learned that his enemies have the Ring, the thought that they might try to destroy it never enters his head, and his eye is kept toward Gondor and away from Mordor and the Mount of Doom.” You can see the attempt to consolidate power in the president, as supported by the conservative six on the Supreme Court, and by the surrender of Congress’s powers by the Republican majority, as an attempt to create a one-ring level of power in radical opposition to the checks and balances and ideals of democracy and accountability that have been central to this nation’s official ideology, however imperfectly realized. 


Birds of a feather – let’s flock together!


Protesting

I had to choose between a vigil and a protest today.  I chose the protest at the Manzanita parking lot near where I live.  It was inspiring,  All the cars honking as they passed and waving – not everyone but most, and now I know there is a huge variety of horn honking, different sounds, patterns, and lengths.  Wonderful signs and people.  And there are younger people now which is great, and more ethnicities.  I walked back to the car with a woman from Minneapolis.  She said she knows the cold in which all those people protested and are protesting.  There’s no way to wear enough to warm the feet. It’s not like where I live. Unfortunately I’ll miss next Sunday as our family celebrates the business my husband started here in our home forty years ago.  Forty years!

Unity in Diversity
Look within
Fluidity in cultivating Peace, Generosity, Morality, and Love

Grief

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.

Look into our heart as deeply as we look into a flower.
Bud, branch, blossom, and connect!

Amaryllis

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.

Where do we face?
Together on one Stem
Look Within