A little post for my blog

 Sometimes I need to come back to Blogger to write. It seems like it was here that I was able to express my thoughts more fully than through other medium. 

I used to carry a notebook with me. To capture the bits of poetry floating around in my head. I don't hear or think in poems as often as I used to. The reality of prosaic work has driven it out of me a bit.

I wonder how people are able to write so well, to form their ideas into a narrative and carry it through. I've struggled to order my thoughts over the years. A lot of times I'm just thinking about taking care of things. Feeding the dogs, the cats, myself and getting to work.

Then there are times when I pour myself into work. Creating a tool to help everyone, but then not being an effective enough communicator to get everyone on board, to see the vision. I'm working on that right now, trying again to create a training, a OneNote, video's, something. Because I believe that all the errors we make have to do with a lack of visibility into the accounts we are working on.

I've been trying to grow a garden in these neat vertical planters. I think I am having more success but I got a late start and it's been a really hot summer. I've tried to baby my plants, keep them out of the hot sun. I bought an umbrella for that purpose. But I've found myself moving the planters around, putting up, then taking down the umbrella or putting on these bug covers. The bug covers ironically kept the stupid fungus gnats in close to the plants, they seemed to help them multiply! I was taking off the covers in the morning to a swarm of fungus gnats!

My cucumbers have been through the wringer, maybe they have "Thrips." This stupid bug that sucks the chlorophyl from the leaves. I've tried spraying the leaves with an insecticide but I almost feel like that made the leaves worse. The plants keep growing despite the fact that the sun keeps sapping them of their energy, turning them into crispy or limp remnants of themselves.

I've been chopping off the bad leaves, I don't know, maybe they'll produce a cucumber, maybe not.

Today went pretty good for me at work. I figured stuff out, processed contracts, hunted down POs, circled back. Things got done, then I went home and tried to figure out what to do with myself besides work.

Turns out that means doing a little of this, a little of that, and not a lot of any of it. I tried to read, then had to take a nap, then I watched a little bit of a show, then tried to read again. I really need to put this shelf cabinet thing together that I bought. This was bought in the hopes that I could be more organized, the semi-fruitless longing that keeps coming back around to haunt me when things are piling up. 

I think I'll turn away from the recriminating box and go to bed. Tomorrow is another work day, then it's the weekend. Thank goodness for that! Plus I did my shopping mid-week (which totally wore me out) so I won't have much to do on Saturday. Save maybe buy my dogs their expensive dog food. Somehow these furry little creatures have convinced me to keep them around as long as possible.

Have a good night blogger land. 

SG

The Spirit of Our Better Angels - A Call to Resist, Reflect, and Reclaim

The time we are living through now is like the dark night of the soul that Theodore Roethke spoke of in his famous poem In a Dark Time. We are all living through a test of our mettle. What we choose to do with our limited time, in this critical moment, reveals the core of who we are. “In a dark time, the eye begins to see.”

I sit here typing my frustrations, tilting at windmills, as it were. At times I feel ready to take on the giants, to fight the entropy of society, and organize a movement. Viva la resistance!

At other times, the reality of the forces of darkness surrounding us becomes so overwhelming I just want to curl up and hide.

I sit here grappling with my thoughts. We are facing a battle—the same battle our ancestors fought and died for. To uphold the rights of our fellow citizens, to face down fear, to sacrifice for the cause of freedom. I ask: “What’s madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?”

We are called, make no mistake. Those of us who feel the spirit of humanity’s better angels flowing through our veins—we are the type who cannot fully rest while ignorance and hatred thrive, while evil men plot to take away our rights. The day’s on fire!

I see lines appearing on my face and think: of course they appear now. The cause is taking the last remnants of the peaceful life I had hoped to lead. I have been fighting my entire life, against the odds, to get to where I am now. As a mother I have protected my children. At times I have related deeply to this passage: “I know the purity of pure despair.” I’ve made sacrifices to keep them safe, and I will continue to do so.

My heart is torn between the dream I once had of living peacefully and the certainty that we must all stand, or else the changes we are going through as a nation will be cemented.

Little by little, our heritage is being sold off and our country weakened. I once fully believed in the promises of America’s founding story, but that faith is being eroded like sand in the waves.

Now is the time to find out who we are. “A man goes far to find out what he is—death of the self in a long, tearless night, all natural shapes blazing unnatural light.”

I think: this is our dark night. The test of our mettle. Who we are as a people, and who we choose to be as a nation.

We are faced with the challenge of our lifetimes. “A fallen man, I climb out of my fear. The mind enters itself, and God the mind, and one is One, free in the tearing wind.”

Sleepless

Early morning, 2 am on an important day. I have every reason to be happy and sleepy but I didn't eat enough today, even though I brought food to work with me. I guess that's what happens when you get used to being able to make a meal at any time and then they arbitrarily tell you to be at work from 9-5 for the next three days. 

Social Media is no comfort, so much wrong and no quick fix. So many deluded into hatred and animosity towards others. 

I don't know why I'm not sleepy, I was able to cuddle with my adorable kitty earlier. She curls up in my arms like a little baby and it's bliss. Perfect angel. I feel sometimes that my animals are perfect souls sent to remind me of what makes life worth living.

My doggy is here now, not curled up in my arms but by my side, solid, warm, alive. 

Maybe I'll try eating something, cheese perhaps. Ugh, I need sleep 😴

Not good odds

I'm laying propped up in bed with a kitty cat laying on my lap on this cold day in March.

I'm sad, life isn't fair, far too often the bad guys actually win. 

Sometimes the most talented, dedicated, hard working people don't get the rewards. 

Sometimes people that should be punished for their crimes, are not.

We who care are left grappling with the reasoning for why this is and the answers aren't easy to accept.

Because we want to believe that talent and hard work will bring us success. That there is justice in this world if not in the next. We want to believe that good will prevail in the end. 

The hard truth is that sometimes it takes a whole lot of people, standing up and doing the right thing, at the right time, to overcome some odds.

These odds are not good, but will we do what it takes to change things? I hope so. 

SG 

Never Again

History leaves an imprint on us that future generations can sense but not fully understand. That is how it was for me in the interactions I had with my grandfather. He was gruff and grumpy and often spoke with a sharp voice. He shuffled after us, yelling as we played, and it always seemed to me that maybe he didn't like me that much. I can still smell his cologne—Old Spice—and feel his rough whiskers as I hugged him before we left to go home. He was a veteran who served during World War II. Later, I would learn that he was wounded on D-Day and was sent to London to recover. He continued to serve and was wounded again—when or where, I don’t know. He carried the scars of that war and pieces of shrapnel in his hip until the day he died. He was not the only veteran in my family; on my mother's side my grandfather served in the Navy, my grandmother the Army.

I wish there were a diary or writings from my grandparents to help me understand how they felt during those dark times. If such a record exists, I don’t know about it.

So, I am left to conjecture. I have watched movies about the war, and I have read books about those who resisted the prevailing sentiments of those times—sentiments that many people were swept up in. I have gathered that there were good people who turned a blind eye for many reasons. They were afraid to stand out, afraid to speak up. There were also some who had been blinded by hatred, who believed the propaganda, and who, having suffered economic hardship before the war, wanted a scapegoat for their suffering.

Hitler had a magnetic personality; people were drawn to him. They believed what he had to say and modified their beliefs and actions to fit the moment. The images of vast crowds all saluting that man are seared into my mind as an enigma—unbelievable—that to them, Hitler was their savior.

That brings us to the modern day, where a propaganda machine has been at work for many years, radicalizing our citizens—making them angry and afraid. The seeds of fear and hatred have been sown to drive ratings, engage an electorate, and make money for elites who have benefited from it all.

After the war was over, our countrymen and women said, "Never Again." The reality of the death camps and the loss of life was so great that it threw the past into stark relief. It was clear what had happened—though some would deny it. So, the motto was "Never Again." But mottos lose their power when they are not maintained by diligence against the forces that came into play during those times. For too long, people have justified their anger and hatred by cloaking them in terms of religion or political expediency.

Those of us who have stood outside the ecosphere of media influence have watched the rise of radical fear and hatred with dismay. We've tried to counter it with facts and emotion. However, to someone who has built a belief system over many years—a system that holds disdain for certain facts, emotions, and groups—these tactics don’t work.

So, we now take up the refrain of "Never Again." Though many Americans see this as radicalization and dissent, we know that we are carrying the banner of our ancestors. We cannot set it down, no matter the cost.

9/15/24 Thoughts

There is a certain feeling that takes over the world as day fades into night. The sounds are different, quieter, and the air feels different as well.

I am sitting, alone, in my office. I closed the door and the blinds and all I hear is the ticking from the clock on the wall and wind, blowing outside the office door.

Distractions abound, the cat is meowing now, and I can hear the dog tip tapping in the kitchen. I don't know if I will ever be able to find a time when I can wholly focus on writing. I suppose that's been every writers challenge from the beginning of time.

I have been gathering with people in my community to write post-cards. The first time, I had people over to my house. There were 7 of us, we got through 200. Today we wrote at a queer bookstore in Provo, it was a lovely space but hard to find and we scheduled it on a Saturday which I tend to think is busier than Sunday's. 

I'm missing my young kids, the rhythm of my household is different now. No more do they wake up and sit around in the living room together watching shows. No more do I hear their little voices raised in silly arguments or laughter. I miss their play battles, their calls for "Mom." 

Turning Back - Where to begin?

 Sometimes I wish I could get to the root of where we have gone wrong as a society and work backwards from there. Clean up the logic, clear up the confusion, sew up the broken threads of humanities morality. We have, after all, gone through many era's of brutality and enlightenment and scholars of history can point out turning points where brutality retreats and enlightenment grabs hold once again.

This epic of the American tale is going to be studied in classrooms some time in the future when they value learning again. People will shake their heads and wonder how we could have been so deceived. 

The answer many times seems to be that people are led down paths of ignorance when they give up their power and autonomy for what seem to be simple answers.

This story is one that I saw unfolding but didn't realize the import until it was too late.

When Rush Limbaugh came on the air I detested listening to his aggrieved and angry rants. I would tell my father to turn them off, because I wanted to protect my peace.

Then TV personalities started to appear in turn, telling folks what they wanted to hear, stirring up the anger and hatred that lay dormant in their souls. 

This turned into a cycle of aggrievement and manufactured outrage over things like "Christmas being canceled." 

I've turned away from that over the years because it was too toxic and I've never been one for manufactured outrage. 

I like many others of my generation have sailed along with the idea that politics don't matter all that much because both sides lie. I didn't want to get too involved, I already had overwhelming issues to deal with in my life. 

I counted on the canceling out of each political ideology by the other when they got into power. But that isn't happening any longer. The extremists are in charge and we're being pulled in so many anti-democratic directions that it's not possible to sit on the sidelines if we want to keep what our Grandparents fought for. 

Mark Twain wrote in "Letter from Earth", letter VI: Each of you, for himself or herself, by himself or herself, and on his or her own responsibility, must speak. It is a solemn and weighty responsibility and not lightly to be flung aside at the bullying of pulpit, press, government or politician. Each must decide for himself or herself alone what is right and what is wrong, which course is patriotic and which isn't. You cannot shirk this and be a man, to decide it against your convictions is to be an unqualified and inexcusable traitor. It is traitorous both against yourself and your country. Let men label you as they may, if you alone of all the nation decide one way, and that may be the right way by your convictions of the right, you have done your duty by yourself and by your country, hold up your head for you have nothing to be ashamed of. 

J. Michael Straczynski wrote:

It doesn’t matter what the press says. It doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mobs say. It doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. Republics are founded on one principle above all else: The requirement that we stand up for what we believe in. no matter the odds or consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move. Your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and tell the whole world: No, you move

It is imperative that we become aware of our duty to determine truth from error through study that takes us beyond the surface of what is presented in the news and popular entertainment. We are all threads that make up the fabric of this country and we abdicate our responsibility to the peril of the whole. 

SG

Thoughts on the state of our Nation

 The history of our country is one of great men putting their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor on the line to establish a nation where self-determination is the distinguishing trait, not the social position one is born into.

I love our country. Our founding fathers weren't perfect, but they strove for ideals that have guided our nation for hundreds of years. President George Washington stepped aside instead of seeking re-election because he wanted to avoid the presidency becoming a lifelong appointment. He warned that “The nation which indulges toward another an habitual hatred or an habitual fondness is in some degree a slave.”

In his farewell address, Washington feared that partisanship would lead to a “spirit of revenge” where party men would not govern for the good of the people but only to obtain and maintain their grip on power. As a result, he warned Americans to guard against would-be despots who would use parties as “potent engines…to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government.” 

I write now as a single mother whose aim has been to gain an education to provide for my family. I have always loved history; one of my favorite books is "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin." In school, I loved economics and statistics, subjects that allowed me to see the theory behind many different economic and political models. I am fully aware of the foundations of the Republican Party's belief in small government, free trade, and free markets.

While I was in school, I had very little time for politics. As a young mother and later when I entered the workforce, I had even less time to follow political candidates. I admit I relied on opinions from those around me to guide my beliefs. 

As I reflect now, I realize there was an undercurrent of hatred flowing through political discourse, and I tried to stay away from it. I did not and still don't watch the news or listen to "news radio." Whenever I caught parts of different segments, I noticed a tendency for pundits to exaggerate, display anger, hatred, vitriol, and paranoia. These characteristics made me shun all of it.

When Donald Trump ran in 2015 against Hillary Clinton, I didn't like either candidate and voted for the third-party candidate, hoping to send a message to our politicians. When Trump was elected, I told my father, "I hope he doesn't start a nuclear war," because my impression of Trump was one of instability, self-aggrandizement, and personal gain. 

Throughout his presidency, his continual attacks on immigrants, women, and other marginalized people made me strongly dislike him. When 2020 hit and we were all scrambling, the political climate was heating up. It wasn't just Trump, but people I knew on Facebook who made me feel most concerned about the state of our nation. The first time I noticed what I think of as a cultishness in Trump supporters was when almost every Trump supporter I knew simultaneously posted "Ivermectin works" on Facebook and elsewhere. I had never heard of it, and when I looked it up, I found it was tied to Fox News. 

I began to fact-check and dig in, but nothing I said seemed to make a dent in the minds of those espousing virulent support for DJT. 

It is this blind devotion that I am fighting against. It is our hard-won rights over centuries that I am fighting for. I implore you to put aside pre-existing beliefs and assess how your beliefs were formed. Our nation was built on the ideals of self-determination and informed citizenship. Let us not be swayed by partisan rhetoric or charismatic figures. Instead, let us honor the legacy of our founding fathers by striving for a government that truly represents the will and the welfare of all its people. Our democracy depends on our collective commitment to these principles.

[1] https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/george-washington-s-farewell-address

Vulnerability

It seems to me that no matter how much I figure out about life and living, I can't escape from the feeling that I'm missing something.

I feel vulnerable, like the sky of open possibilities is a promise and a threat. It feels like a wrong choice can limit me, like I could lose everything in a moment.

I can't help but feel like I'm walking close to the edge; I hang on when I should let go, as though the only options I see are slipping through my fingers.

I make these moves, I do these things, and then question myself. Was that the right thing to do?

It's terrifying; I feel like a fool sometimes.

Perhaps it seems as though I'm as sure as the sky on a sunny day, but I'm not. I often do things that are against the grain, not commonly advised, unconventional, subversive, and it is so scary. My biggest fear is not hurting myself but hurting others, and ironically that's where a lot of my problems stem.

Where they've always stemmed.

Because I can't keep everyone happy and be true to myself, someone is going to get hurt, and often times it's me. I'm swallowing the pills to keep them from affecting other people. But it's really not doing anyone any favors, and it's hard to see that. Because it hurts to admit the necessity of change, of disappointments, and not being able to meet everyone's expectations.

And it's deceptive because I'm hiding the truth of my vulnerability.

But I hope you all can forgive me; confrontation is hard, the truth can be hard, and my heart breaks so easily.

A bit of writing

2/19/2024

Sometimes it's hard to imagine when I look at the whole of my life that it's all really happened, I got through it all and I'm on the other side to this new phase of not having young children about. Sometimes I really miss just having them all here, but they've all grown so well and they are such fun people. I'm amazed at how wonderful they all are.

I've always been a romantic, I have a certain way of looking at the world and seeing all this beauty. I saw flecks of different kinds of rocks in the top layer of the concrete that was coming up off my grandparents patio. I would collect little bits of it, and so would my brother.

When I would look down the side of the garage I saw the bright red of the bricks, the ivy vines, the spiders webs. I saw the cracked window, the gloomy light and felt the coolness of it out of the hot sun.

I feel everything so deeply sometimes. 

I used to dream that my life was more luxurious than it was, I put up silky sheets around my four poster bed and pilled pillows up. I took the little vials of perfume that I got from my grandmother and dabbed it on the end on the little toppers at the top of the pillars around the bed so that I could smell them. 

When I would lay awake at night I listened to the sounds of the trees, there were so many in the field behind our house. The sound was hypnotic, soothing, it was a big comfort to me. 

I identified a lot with Anne of Green Gables.