i've been chewing on that one for a while. we so often rush through life, or feel like we should be Doing Something but get frustrated that we Aren't Doing because we can't name what the Something is, or just have our heads down in the nitty-gritty of each day.
i was sitting on the porch, having tea and reading an article from the Kripalu catalog, and that quote just about jumped off the page and grabbed me by the throat. i stopped and stared at it, and it stared at me, and i shivered.
truly, what would i do with this one precious and wild life? because it is both of those things, and i should, i want to be more aware of those things. we are given this one precious and wild ride through life, and i think that just knowing that, just realizing that it can be wild, in an energy flowing, transformative way, is enough to shift things.
the dishes in the sink look a little different, now, thinking about that quote.
just because i can't take being that cranky anymore...
how about some sonia dada? they haven't put anything out lately, which is a cryin' shame; hopefully they'll get back in the studio sometime soon. if you like this one, poke around on UToob some and check out their other songs - they rock long and hard. there are actually a few other songs i think i like better, but this one hit the spot tonight.
i heard a report over the weekend that crystallized something that's been rattling around in the back of my head for weeks. the reporter said, (loosely paraphrasing) 'the choice of the word smear is an interesting one' in the reports that Obama is supposedly Muslim.
so what if Obama were Muslim? *so? what?* the fact that he is being called upon to defend his religious beliefs, and deny that he is or ever was Muslim, and further, that the charge is being called a smear (by no less than the New York Times) - when did it become a crime to be a Muslim?
right. yes, i know, 9/11, terrorism, war, fear of the other, right. okay, i get why people are jumpy.
but honestly, isn't all this just a variation on 'i won't vote for that Negro' (quote, heard in a recent voter interview, when a registered Democrat was asked who she might vote for)?
maybe i'm hopelessly naive, or optimistic... i believe in the separation of church and state, and thought others would as well. if you can balance the budget, negotiate peacefully with other countries, provide services to citizens, work on alternate energy, defending women's rights, defending gay rights, bolstering our education system... i could give a flying f*ck if you worship at the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
yes, i suppose the sight of the POTUS going to church on Easter is reassuring or comforting to some. but what good is that if the POTUS then turns around and (insert your item of outrage here)?
and i'm not having much of a sense of humor about it. my best friend recommended watching SNL clips - 'Tina Fey will crack you up! it's funny!'
when the spoof is a verbatim re-enactment of the actual event, it's not funny. listening to fey/palin (and yes, i did watch the original interview) be so ragingly incoherent, then realizing that *people want to vote for her*, and then realizing that people think they should be voting for her *when she's not the one running for president, you asshats*...
i'm angry that people think they should vote for her because she's a woman.
i'm angry that people think they shouldn't vote for her because she's a woman.
i'm angry that people think they should or shouldn't vote for Obama because he's black.
i'm angry that anyone thinks surviving as a POW means you should be president. gold stars and medals for it, for sure, but don't hand McCane the country because of that.
i'm angry that Palin touts herself as average, joetta sixpack, hockey mom, PTA head - and thinks it makes her qualified. as an editorial last week astutely pointed out, i don't want someone i can identify with to run the country. i want someone smarter and more qualified than me running the country.
i'm angry that the economy is lurching around, and so is McCane, claiming to have an answer.
i'm angry that McCane calls me his friend. to paraphrase Bentsen, i know my friends. and you are no friend, McCane. stop it with the pretty window dressing bullcrap, you asshat. calling me your friend only antagonizes me. i don't want your friendship, and i definitely don't want your leadership.
i'm angry that people will vote based on who they want to have a beer with, or vote for Palin because she's hot, or vote against Obama because his wife is ugly (their words, not mine).
who the fuck with two brain cells to rub together thinks like this, votes like this?
i'm angry... and desperately hoping not to be angry November 5th.
haven't had the energy to post lately... been running on smoke and fumes.
and much to my surprise, the summer is rocketing by. two weeks? haven't posted in two weeks? and what do you mean, he's back in school in a month or so? been following to see who MedSm will have for a teacher (one retired, one quit, none have been hired, so we have no idea who's teaching 5th grade next year), and am shocked at how quickly we've gone from end of school to shopping for school supplies.
speaking of running on smoke and fumes, while i can't do much about the lack of sleep, i am quitting smoking in two days. yep. set a deadline for myself, one with some significance, and will soon be smoke-free. my current boss asked, 'do we have to send out a note that you'll be cranky?' heh. hopefully not. hubby is using nic*rette to help him quit, i've got a stash of sugar-free mini caramel hard candies. small treats to help me break the patterns, because smoking is as much about the ritual as it is about the chemical addiction.
so, i'm listening to NPR on the way home tonight, and they're talking about the economy in Turkey.
and i think... could everyone in the world make enough money? i mean, perhaps i should have paid more attention in Econ 101 in college, and then i'd know. but ... could it be that each person could make a living wage? is there a fixed amount of money in the world, and it can only be meted out to so many, or is it a malleable figure, and could it just be possible for everyone to be able to put food on their table, a roof over their heads, clothes on their back, medical care in their resources, and education in their heads?
i would like to see a world where that was not only possible, but probable, and happening.
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Like the rock flint, you're hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you're easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!
alright, god - enough. enough with the death, okay? i've had enough of it for the month.
could you maybe just lighten up on it for a bit? please?
i opened up my alumni magazine tonight to find that my college roommate from senior year died, just before Christmas. kelly was a great person, and a great roommate, and how she put up with me, i'll never know.
she interned for David Letterman one summer, living in a small, hot little apartment in NYC. she sent me a t-shirt from the show, and i wore that thing until it disintegrated.
we lost touch after college; i didn't make much effort to keep up with anyone. i'd tried to look her up a few times, but never got in contact. and now it's too late.
the obit said she'd founded her own company, an animal-centric one. she was likely fabulous at it; she had a tank of oscars and a ferret when we roomed together, and was great with them. in fact, kelly was great at most everything she did. and she'll be missed.
eta: the oddest thing is trying to wrap my mind around kelly at 39 or 40. in my head, she'll always be 21, striding across campus and laughing.
getting organized for gram's service... and the day is gorgeous, i've played in the gardens, and felt pretty connected to a lot of people. planted tomatoes and thought of gram, listened to the ship's bell i have hanging in the garden and thought of dale, listened to the owl in the tree next door and thought of sleepovers at gram and gramp's where i'd wake up and listen to the owl who lived by the corner of the house, watched the little twittie birds and thought of sitting in the den with gram and gramp, watching the birds in the bird bath, cleaned out one of my garden beds and felt happy about having my hands in green growy things.
i have two quotes that gram wrote in her journal that i'll be reading today, and to me, they all connect to this. this, this moment right here. i am alive, and grateful, sad but okay, and getting ready to go honor my grandmother.
i was thinking this morning on the way in to work, (dangerous before coffee, i know), and for some reason, this poem came into my head.
if you haven't heard it before, it's worth listening to. (will try to find an audio clip later.) if you've ever seen Four Weddings and a Funeral, then you've seen the reading that introduced me to the poem. and John Hannah's reading still brings me to tears.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good.
i'd been planning to go down this weekend, and then got the call from dad saturday morning. 'come now.' was out the door in about 7 minutes flat. worried (stupidly) about what to wear. got on the road, said a prayer for no traffic.
traffic was fine. timing was not. she passed about an hour before i got there. but - she had family with her, and it was peaceful. thank you, god, for the gift of small mercies.
my grandfather died a little over 15 years ago. i said a little prayer to him Friday night; could picture him sitting there, with a Scotch in hand, laughing about the stock market, then going to putter in his garden. 'be ready for her, please. and God, please be good to her.' i was pulling for him and my aunt to be ready and waiting to welcome gram.
i do think that the soul hangs around for a bit afterwards, after it's done with the body. she certainly wasn't there when i went in to say goodbye, but i hope she heard me. (could have been sorting out road maps, who knows.)
driving home, looking at the clouds, there was the most amazing bank of puffy clouds... with a circular opening, like at the top of a ladder to a loft. and the sun was coming thru, making a ... not halo, have you ever seen the old style christmas ornaments, with a fringe of angel hair? like that. and i knew. that was her opening, and gramp and my aunt were on the other side to welcome her.
