when I wring my hands they lose their ability to reach out and help

when I wring my hands they lose their ability to reach out and help


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I am trying very, very hard to not be political right now. Hillary supporters are grieving. Trump supporters are celebrating. And I’m not really sure who the people are that think vandalism and violence and rioting is the appropriate response to the presidential election results.
But I realized last night that I’m not being political at all. I’m being human. And that’s very important right now. One of the definitions Dictionary.com gives us for the word “human” is “sympathetic; humane.” I might add fallible, imperfect, visceral, discerning, emotive and perseverant to the list.
Regardless of our political stances, we are all human. And so it hurts when Starbucks puts out a drink cup design meant to represent unity, and social media trolls decry the design as a divisive political statement. Since when did unity become a Blue or Red characteristic to vilify?
And it hurts when I watch late night show host monologues of the evening after the election, and it makes me cry; not with laughter, but with sorrow. I try to cry softly so as not to upset my dog, because he doesn’t understand what’s going on. He watches me warily and worriedly, and then he comes over and jumps up to frantically lick my face as if to say, “It’s okay. Be happy! I don’t like it when you’re sad.”
And then I wonder how many parents are trying to grieve discreetly so as not to frighten their young children. And it hurts more. Much more.
If we were having coffee, I would think I should apologize for being such a downer, for being a thoughtless host for expressing my not-so-uplifting feelings. But then I would rethink, and realize that I’m just being human. And I would try to respect that you, too, are human and regardless of your thoughts and feelings about the election or the candidates or the Starbucks coffee cup, we would most likely both be humane about one another’s beliefs.
And what’s a good coffee share without honesty and respect and – if not real understanding—at least a willingness to listen. So please have another cup of coffee and I will respectfully listen as you share your honesty. After all, that’s what a thoughtful host does.
Thanks to Diana at PartTimeMonsterBlog.com for hosting the #WeekendCoffeeShare.

the sixth stage of grief acceptance may bring comfort “What’s next?” leads to hope

Sometimes the biggest challenges in life become easily doable if we can just get a leg up.
The Daily Post weekly photo challenge: Tiny

“On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”
~ H. L. Mencken (1880-1956)
As yet I cannot comprehend
the ills that have been ordained,
nor how they came to be,
nor how anyone justifies these creeds.
As yet I cannot see a way
to fight these ills that threaten me,
that threaten us,
and our children
and their children,
and this innocent Earth
with the bounty she so selflessly shares
while we systematically poison her.
As yet I cannot rightly communicate
my utter, utter dismay.
So for today
as I struggle to comprehend,
as I struggle for words,
as I struggle to fathom a response,
I will honor my speechlessness
and I will weep.

ONE
osprey standing proud
wind-ruffled feathers
sharp beak, sharp talons
sharp eyes watch for prey
owning this river

TWO
most call you a weed
I see a flower
most would destroy you
I pick your seed head
make a wish and blow

THREE
I wish I could feel
the stories you’ve lived
touch your rough ridges
ascertain your truths
splinters withstanding

FOUR
february lull
deserted branches
streets stripped of traffic
evergreen signals
drive us into spring

FIVE
skating on thin ice
isn’t as dire as
it’s cracked up to be
if the ice holds, it’s
icing on the cake

The Daily Post Discover Challenge: Numbers
last defiant leaf clings to summer memories falls prey to autumn



rooted in chaos ordered with complexity nature’s enigma
The Daily Press Weekly photo challenge:
Chaos
