tears frozen in time
‘til the heart can bear the flood
once allowed to fall
thaw
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Category Archives: serious stuff
oversight
had I thought to speak
my mind and heart and conscience
where might we be now
The Daily Post daily prompt: Oversight
The Greatest Sound in the World
Unity ~~
harmonic voices
sing as one to the beat of
hearts aligned in love
The Daily Post Discover Challenge: The Greatest _______ in the World
Training for the Marathon
“There is much to do and no time to lose because the soul of our country is on the line. We must be brave and stand up.”
~~ Congressman Jerry Nadler
Artwork commissioned for the sole use by Maggie C.
The soul of our country… I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to the soul of our country; to the soul of our society; to the soul of our generation. And – for that matter – to my own soul.
I am not in any position to preach. I’m not immune to biases; to the divisive mindset of “us” versus “them;” to the smugness of believing that my soul is in the right place; to the complacency of assuming that it’s those “other souls” that need adjustment, and so I have the right – nay, the duty – to sit here at my laptop spewing rhetoric about the lost soul of our country.
And yet, just yesterday I wrote about the gutting of our societies’ values and mores. Life is so complicated these days.
I respect Congressman Nadler’s statement as quoted above from his essay on “How We Resist Trump and his Extreme Agenda.” And standing alone, it does not convey his full meaning in those words. But I find the part about “no time to lose” rather thought-provoking. And that other part: “the soul of our country is on the line.” What does that even mean? And exactly when did our country’s soul become “on the line?”
Was it the day Donald Trump declared candidacy? Was it the day Hillary Clinton began using a private email server for official government communications? Was it the day Vladimir Putin took a liking to one presidential candidate over another?
Will it become paramount on Friday of this week when a new president takes the helm of our soul-conflicted country?
And when did this country’s questionable soul status reach the tipping point to where there is suddenly “no time to lose?”
As I said before… Life is complicated.
I would also say, metaphorically, that life is not a 50-yard dash. Life is a marathon. We begin the moral leg of the marathon on the day we make our first ethical choice, and to beat my metaphor to a bloody pulp, I can say that the marathon is run one step at a time; one ethical choice at a time.
Artwork commissioned for the sole use by Maggie C.
No time to lose? Perhaps. Time to assess whether we are on the right track (there’s that pesky metaphor again)? I would say yes. And today I’m doing that as best I can. And I will do so tomorrow. I will do so on Friday, the day of the presidential inauguration.
I will do so — and continue to do so – because that’s how a marathoner stays in the race. And – ultimately — because my soul is on the line.
The Daily Post one-word prompt: Marathon
Weekend Coffee Share (1/15/17)
#WeekendCoffeeShare is graciously hosted by Diana at ParttimeMonsterBlog.com.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that the snow from last week is lingering on. There’s been no new snowfall, but temperatures have remained too cold for much of it to melt. With only my dog Chules and me accessing my fenced yard, it is still relatively pristine and white. I like the way it reflects light – both by day and night – and makes everything seem brighter and more cheerful.
The US will have a new president as of the end of this week, and I am not alone in dreading what that might mean for the future of human rights and ecological preservation. Or, for that matter, ecological rights and human preservation. There’s not enough snow anywhere that can make the current political scene appear cheerful and bright.
I’ve been dealing with a general sense of anxiety and malaise for the past couple of weeks. It’s been frustrating not to be able to tie it into any specific source; having nothing I could pinpoint and say this is the reason I am feeling unease. With an unknown cause, it becomes more challenging to deal with the effect.
But maybe my subconscious has been wrestling with the apprehension of what the future holds as fundamental values and mores are being gutted in our society. Maybe the anxiety is born of a sense of helplessness, while at the same time knowing that the “help” has to come from within me. And within you.
I didn’t intend to be all doom and gloom when I sat down to write this. Maybe I need to forego the rest of my coffee and get outside to play with my dog in the bright sun and cheerful snow. It won’t make the world’s problems go away, but it will boost my spirits. And that might be just what I need to move from helplessness to hopefulness; from despair to decisiveness; from inertia to activism.
Snow angels, anyone?
bouquet
someday
I will be old
and the shadows my long life casts
will reflect the youth and vibrancy
that once coursed through
the vessels of my soul
and though withered
and drained of color
and grown brittle with time and wear
there will still be a beauty
to the shape and form
grown from many years of
life lessons rained upon me
and the energizing warmth
of unwavering love shown to me
and I will stand proud and content
but mostly thankful
as I face the sun
until it sets
The Daily Post daily prompt: Someday
auld lang
year end reflection
long sigh of resignation
hope comes at midnight
The Daily Post daily prompt: Hopeful
Strong as Iron
“After arriving from China my dad took a year to save enough money working in San Francisco and he then walked to Astoria.” [ 718 miles ]
“My grandfather brought home salmon cheeks, a delicacy to the Chinese but a waste to the cannery owners.”
“He was a veteran of World War 2 and the Korean war and he filmed breaking stories on the coast for news stations and he was the official photographer for the Miss Oregon pageant.”
“We went to American school in the daytime and Chinese school in the evening.”
“My mother graduated with a college degree but Chinese women seldom had job opportunities so she…”
“Grandma said dad was so sick on the boat from China that he would have been fed to the fish if he had died. Now a seafood lab is named after him for the fish feed that he and his team developed.”
“The tongs formed in the 1870s and grew to as many as nine but began to disappear in the 1930s. Remaining tongs were known more for their…”
“Chinatown was like a playground. We had no…”
These photos were taken at the Garden of Surging Waves, a city park in Astoria, Oregon, which was built to honor and celebrate the Chinese heritage of that area. The Story Screen in these photos is an iron structure that includes the entry gate, and these large panels that tell about the hardships, struggles and contributions of some of the Chinese immigrants in Astoria as well as their descendants who remained in the area and who continue to be vital components in the fabric of the community.
The Daily Post weekly photo challenge: Resilient
at the very least
One ring,
two Chinese characters,
how many meanings?
I didn’t know, and so I asked.
Second symbol first:
goodness,
kindness,
charity,
… I was told.
First one second:
it goes without saying…
absolutely…
at the very least…
It’s hard to explain,
I was told.
So many things in life are hard to explain, and so
we often devise our own explanations,
our own definitions.
What does it mean to say, “I’m fine?”
One sentence,
two words,
how many meanings?
I often don’t know, but I seldom ask.
I want to change that, to show more charity,
kindness and goodness;
to listen to your explanations
and belay my own fabrications
at the very least.
As for the ring, perhaps it’s telling me
when life is hard to explain and hard to define,
there is one course of action
that is always right.
In those two characters, I choose to read,
“Above all else, be kind.”
The Daily Post discover challenge: Hope Gone Viral
Blessed Three
So maybe I’m an overachiever. Susie Lindau’s #Blessed Project, which is aimed at inspiring us to consider the blessings in our lives, will wrap up next week. And although I’ve already counted several blessings here and here, I felt compelled to give it a third go ’round.
Here it is — #Blessed, Part III.
I’m blessed with:
the freedom to express my individuality…
plentiful sustenance…
the opportunity to live in and learn from diversity…
adequate clothing to protect me from the elements…
and compassionate peers who listen without passing judgment.
May we never run out of blessings to count.
What Rhymes with Stanza? 