Tag Archives: Presidential election

Training for the Marathon

Posted on by
2

“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

lifting-the-weight

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.

lifting-the-world

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)

Posted on by
12

170115

#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?

Weekend Coffee Share 10/9/16

Posted on by
12

161019

If we were having coffee I would tell you I’m pleased to be seeing more and more signs of autumn. Leaves turning to vibrant hues, falling ground-ward only to swirl back up in the wind and skitter down the rain-slicked streets…

Okay, so I wouldn’t really use the words “skitter” and “rain-slicked” if we were sitting around sipping coffee. I might more likely say something like, “There go those damned dead leaves blowing down the street. You just know they’re going to end up clogging the rain drains, and then the streets will be flooding all winter.”

Along with the skittering leaves of the season, the autumnal rains have set in. I purchased a Gore-Tex coat a week or so ago to wear while walking my American Eskimo dog Chules this fall and winter. I thought about getting Chules a matching poncho, but with his thick double coat of fur, I doubt he even really feels the rain.

Except in his face, that is. He flattens his ears back against his head, and squints up at me accusingly as he hunker-trots along, side-stepping the larger puddles. I’m sure I’ll have that same look on my face in a few more weeks when the gusty cold winds force the rain from a vertical downpour to a horizontal onslaught. But for Chules’ sake – and mine – we’ll persevere in our daily walks.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you I’ll be watching the U.S. Presidential debate later today. It reminds me of when I was a child and my parents let me stay up late to watch Saturday Night Wrestling, featuring the likes of The Claw in his black mask (Booooo!!) and Rowdy Roddy McDowell (Hurrah!!!) in his kilt, and Beauregard something-or-other in not much more than his well-oiled muscles and skimpy wrestling shorts.

Invariably the actors wrestlers would end up in the spectator seats, chasing one another through the arena aisles, and slinging wooden folding chairs at one another that would break into splinters upon being cracked over someone’s head.

Watching the staged wrestling matches, one could get totally caught up in the drama and suspense even though you subconsciously knew that after the show these “sworn enemies” would likely be sipping beers together at some dive bar just down the street from the arena.

Wait… what was I talking about? Staged… actors… slinging… drama…

Oh, yes. The Presidential debate.

I’m just glad such nasty slime-slinging debates don’t blow in every autumn. It’s bad enough having to deal with those damned clogged rain drains.

Thanks to Diana at PartTimeMonsterBlog.com for hosting the #WeekendCoffeeShare.