Hope

Beauty – ND #133

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Rhodo Bloom – Photo: L. Weikel

Beauty

The beauty of this rhododendron today begged to be shared. I can’t imagine any of us are immune to the horror we’ve all witnessed over the last several days. How awful is it that the Buffalo massacre on 14 May 2022 was followed merely one day later by two more shootings (in Houston, Texas and Laguna Woods, California). And the horror of yesterday’s massacre at an elementary school is more than many of us can take.

There’s a part of me that’s holding out hope that the outrageousness of so many recent assaults on our fundamental values of freedom, equality, and the sanctity of keeping our little kids alive and safe at school will galvanize us as a nation.

My skin crawls when I hear these talking heads of Authoritarianism chide and deride Democrats for ‘politicizing’ the gun issue when 21 people were just murdered in a 4th grade classroom. Or when I listen to them tell us all we need to do is ‘harden our schools’ to make them safe.

What utter bullshit.

Grief

I can only barely register the grief being felt by the families in Uvalde, Texas tonight. I say ‘tonight’ as if it will subside within a few days or weeks. Surely we all know in our hearts that their lives will never be the same. Just like the Sandy Hook parents. The families of Uvalde will live with this forever. But the thing is, so will we.

We’re all traumatized. We’re all reeling from the senselessness. We’re all horrified by the knowledge that our government is stocked with at least 50 Senators who place more value on lining their pockets and furthering their careers than they do on protecting their fellow citizens and constituents.

There’s the trauma. And there’s the grief.

Hope

I wanted to write tonight and lead with some beauty because we must not give up on each other – or ourselves.

Our country is falling apart at the seams. But we’re the ones who can and must mend it or create a new one.

Look at these photos and drink deeply of the beauty. Take heart. Gather your courage. We must act on behalf of all our babies.

Petal – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+133)

Unsettled – ND #120

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Photo: L. Weikel

Unsettled

I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. I’m feeling profoundly unsettled, and I’m pondering what to do about it – if there’s even anything I can do.

By my reckoning, tonight’s post is my 1,231st. The initial 1111 were consecutive – not a day (or perhaps more accurately – not a 24 hour period) went by without me writing something to share with my readers. When I reached my professed goal, I indulged in a 12-day hiatus. And since then, I’ve written another 120 short posts, mostly observations of nature and contemplations on life, with a heavy emphasis on walking, puppies, clouds, and cats and a smattering of political and social observations.

Most of the time, even though I almost always think, “Ugh; I’ve nothing to write about tonight,” I’ll look at the photos I took with my iPhone and some small tale will ask to be told. Or a cloud formation will vie for my attention. Or some celestial event will either beg to be witnessed and reported on or its energetic influence on our lives offer to be contemplated.

Occasionally, tarot cards or a selection from an oracle deck might lend a perspective for us to reflect upon.

Dial Tone

Recently, however, I’ve been experiencing what I can best describe as a creative dial tone when I sit here with my fingertips poised above my keyboard.

Perhaps it’s knowing what’s going on in Ukraine that’s making me feel…mute. Or maybe it’s reading the headlines or hearing about the abhorrent attitudes and beliefs being spewed by so very many people who should know better. Or if they don’t know better, should not be in a position of leadership, power, or influence.

But I have to say, the images from Ukraine and the inner depths of darkness that must be within the soldiers who committed these acts seem to render me…bereft. The ability to perpetrate such acts upon another person has to stem from hopelessness.

What Has Happened?

It all seems to be related. And surely it must be – why else would we be seeing such harshness and cruelty toward ‘others’ all over the world? Is humanity bored? Has our species become so stagnant that, instead of joining together to care for the future of the Earth and the animals and our fellow humans, we’ve collectively just decided to say, “Screw it; let’s burn it all down?”

Again, it feels like hopelessness is the culprit. Which is interesting to me. Because I think so many of us think love is the answer. But love, while I do believe it is fundamentally the most powerful force in the Universe (all Universes), has – as a concept – become watered down and misunderstood.

No. I think hope is what we yearn for in our hearts right now.

The question is, where can we find it and how can each of us cultivate it in our lives?

Photo: L. Weikel

(T+120)

Put Up Or Shut Up – ND #42

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
We can’t be as chill as Cletus about this – Photo: L. Weikel

Put Up or Shut Up

Well, the jury’s still out on whether we’ll achieve any kind of a meaningful breakthrough in the Senate to protect voting rights. The latest I heard was that there’s an effort underway to at least bring back the ‘talking’ filibuster for matters pertaining to constitutional issues. This could also be known as the ‘put up or shut up’ amendment to the rule creating the filibuster. It’s not enough, but it’s about time we demand that any Senator who wants to join in a filibuster must stand and deliver some defense of their position.

I find it quite appalling that this could have such a dramatic effect on our esteemed Senators. Seriously – what do we send these people to Congress for if not to show up and vote? Or show up and explain their reasons for not voting for something?

It galls me when cameras slip up and we realize that what we’re watching on the television (such as an impassioned floor speech or two) is being delivered to a nearly empty chamber. Most of these Senators and Representatives deliver speeches to an almost empty room. Why? Where is the respect for their colleagues? Where is the respect for the institution itself?

I know. I’m letting my idealism show again.

Major Overhaul

It just seems as though we’re being shown in a myriad of ways how broken our system is and how cynical those who represent us have become. Not all of them – but certainly a shockingly high percentage. When you really dig down and take stock of how these politicians spend their days (many, not all) it becomes stunningly obvious that we have to get the money out of politics.

Money is the driving force behind everything in our governments, both federal and state, but especially on the federal level. And because it is so inherently ‘the game that’s played,’ there is no way any well-intentioned person can simply say they won’t play along and live (politically) for more than one term. Whether you think term limits are good or not, precious little can be accomplished in one term.

The only way to effect meaningful change is to overhaul the entire system. And we can’t fall back on the old trope of ‘it’s always been done this way,’ or ‘it’s too hard to change the way things are done,’ because it really is broken. It’s unsustainable. I realize that perhaps everything needs to fall apart before we can build again. And I hate that this may be our reality, but it does look like where we’re headed.

There’s probably one thing most Americans can agree on at the moment, and that’s the sad fact that our system is on a trajectory toward self-destruction. And only we can save it. We the people, I mean. Because clearly those who are feeding at the trough of power and greed cannot stop themselves.

Alas, reform will never, ever happen if we don’t secure the right of all citizens to vote easily and securely. Everything hinges on our right to vote. Everything.

(T+42)

Welcoming the Darkness – ND #14

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Sunset 21 December 21 – Photo: L. Weikel

Welcoming the Darkness

Sunset tonight was so starkly vivid and raw with color, it was as if the atmosphere itself had lit a celebratory bonfire welcoming the darkness.

Certainly the temperature plunged to a seasonal degree. I’m glad it did; it felt weird to be walking barefoot on the grass a few days ago. But the frozen ground really is unyielding. The puppies didn’t know what to make of it and seemed confused by how much it hurt when tearing across the tundra after their stuffed toy.

Perspective – Photo: L. Weikel

Survival Mode

Practically every single person I’ve spoken to in the past week mentioned how bone-tired they’re feeling. Some have even termed their outlook to be ‘in survival mode.’

And we thought we were exhausted last year? Ha! If nothing else, hopefully we’ve learned the folly of challenging ‘worse.’

As we welcome and embrace the winter season, let’s commit to finding a way to truly rest our weary bones and rejuvenate our spirits. We probably shouldn’t naively believe that everything’s suddenly going to turn around over the next few weeks. But we can prepare ourselves to meet those days with refreshed perspective.

What activity (even if  – perhaps especially if – it is a non-activity) can we bring into our holiday season to honor our inner weariness? How do we replenish our inner wellspring of hope?

I’m feeling a yearning to read, to laugh and play games, to snuggle and be with the people I love most in the whole world. Maybe even to write a few words.

If we’re finding ourselves in survival mode – let’s make a point of surviving well.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T+14)

Filled to the Brim – Day 1026

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Aqueduct in Point Pleasant, PA 2 Sept 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Filled to the Brim

No matter where you look, it seems we’re filled to the brim. Our creeks and rivers are overflowing with water. Our forests are filled with the hot fury of fire. Our hearts are filled with shock, rage, fear, and hopefully, equal or greater measures of love, compassion, and hope.

I don’t have a lot to say tonight.

I’m always amazed at the brilliance of the blue skies the morning after a storm of great fury, be it a blizzard or a hurricane. Your average, run-of-the-mill snowstorm or rain event can come and go and the next day the skies may retain their cranky gray visage. But not following a storm of great consequence.

Just like a mother who has bitten her tongue one too many times, Mother Nature occasionally unleashes the accumulation of atmospheric energy and clears the decks. She withholds nothing. She lets us have it. And then, forgiving and forward-looking, she lets it all go and moves on. The sparkling clarity left behind is her gift to us.

A reminder that no matter how dark and furious things can get, the sun does come out again. The skies do clear. The air once again becomes breathable and invigorating.

Tohickon Creek at Point Pleasant – Photo: L. Weikel

Around Us

I only ventured out a few miles from our home today. So many roads were – and remain – closed. I’ve yet to get a glimpse of the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River). But I did manage to sneak a peak at where my beloved Tohickon Creek flows into the Delaware in Point Pleasant.

It looks like the power of the Tohickon pulled some boards off the aqueduct that crosses over it just before the creek merges with the river. Just standing on the bridge to take the photo, I could feel the power of the churning waters below me.

As can be seen below, water simply cascading down the hill without a discernible path to follow pounded the roadway so relentlessly that it caused it to buckle.

River Road, Point Pleasant, PA – Photo: L. Weikel

Carrying On

It’s shocking to consider that we were only hit with the ‘remnants’ of Hurricane Ida. My mind reels at the plight of those who were scathed by nature’s fury not only here – in devastating loss of life and home – but even more so in Louisiana, Mississippi, and elsewhere down south. I cannot imagine enduring temperatures where the heat index is reaching 107 during the day and yet there remains no running water, no electricity (and therefore no air conditioning), no lights at night, and little hope of anything being restored anytime soon.

How does one carry on in that situation? Blue skies surely can’t be enough. Or maybe they can be. When we’ve lost everything, maybe blue skies – and the intangible hope they reflexively bring us – are precisely what our souls require.

Tangle of wildflowers & white butterflies – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-85)

In For a Landing – Day 1020

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Snowy Owl Coming In For a Landing – Photo: L. Weikel

In For a Landing

A line of thunderstorms came through our area just as the sun was contemplating setting. Besides billowing harbingers of potential mayhem and torrential downpours, one scenario depicted in the sky was a snowy owl coming in for a landing.

I’d actually just completed closing Sacred Space following a session with a client when a deep and prolonged rumble of thunder rippled out across the sky. Stepping outside, I got goosebumps when I took in the scenario unfolding above my head.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether anyone else can see what you see. Not if the magic of a moment infuses with you awe. Or hope. Or maybe even the tiniest sliver of a sense of being part of something much greater than the superficial illusions that we normally chase and often cherish.

Besides these clouds, there were a few rainbow moments that, oddly, appeared to be less a rainbow and more a multicolored bar. I couldn’t manage to get a photo of it fast enough, but the traditional colors of a rainbow made a brief appearance in the sky sporting the sharp, clean, rectangular edges of…a flag. Or a banner. It seemed more a statement than a wish.

I was so frustrated that I missed the shot.

Speaking the Truth – Photo: L. Weikel

An Evening Chorus

The last several nights have been deathly silent as I wrote my posts. Those moments when the rain wasn’t falling and tink, tink, tinking on the metal casing of our window air conditioner, the air was still and close. The atmosphere was super-saturated (my skin’s assessment, not a meteorologically defined status statement) and no self-respecting insect, plant, or animal wanted to exert an ounce of unnecessary energy in pursuit of movement or song.

But tonight is different. Perhaps this shift will last and the weight of fearing to embrace change will lift from our psyches. It’s up to us to give our true selves permission to sing, just as the voices of the katydids, crickets, and annual cicadas are nearly deafening this evening.

We’re being pushed to question the way we’ve been doing a lot in our lives. What beliefs do we hold onto until our fingers bleed? Where do we place our faith? How do we know what’s true? What approaches to life are we so sure about that we’re willing to build our reputations on them?

What principles do we believe in so passionately that we’re finally going to risk finding our voice and speaking out?

Conversations – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-91)

Used to Be – Day 874

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Easter Eve Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Used to Be

I’m sure it’s the pandemic talking, but I realized something today that sort of took me aback. I actually heard myself saying, “Easter used to be one of my favorite holidays.”

“Used to be.” Hmm.

It’s not just Easter, either. Karl and I didn’t even put up a tree this past Christmas. If you’d have asked me ten years ago if I could imagine ever spending Christmas without a tree, I wouldn’t have hesitated a single moment. Of course we’d always have a tree.

Guess not.

Don’t get me wrong. I still love Easter. And Christmas. And of course New Year’s – bringing us the opportunity to start fresh. Then starting the cycle all over again is Thanksgiving  – always a joy given the sentiment of appreciating all the blessings in one’s life. There’s also something to be said for gratitude being the primary focus of that holiday.

It just seems like sometimes we forget to really and truly look around at the people in our lives and feel in our bones how much their presence means to us. Which I guess is why things have been feeling a lot different lately.

Maybe it’s that I took a stroll down memory lane today and sort of sustained a gut punch when I realized just how profoundly our holidays have changed over the years – in ways I don’t think I could’ve expected.

The Rest of the Year

The holidays we celebrate May through October just seem to pass by. What I enjoy most are the astronomical observances – the ‘pagan’ holidays, if you will: summer solstice, fall equinox. I think I probably enjoy Christmas and Easter because of their connection to winter solstice and spring equinox.

Nah. Along with New Year’s, Easter is a time of rebirth and in many ways issues a clarion call for a bursting forth of new energy and growth. It’s also almost always near my birthday. So of course I like Easter. Or I used to.

Tonight’s sunset was classic early April. Stunning and simple. The chill in the air providing just the right nip to keep the peepers sleepy and the buds on the flowers holding back their burst of energy until unleashing it tomorrow in a cascade of brilliance and color – because it’s going to warm up again. Not into the 70s, perhaps, but enough to coax some breakthroughs.

Wishes

Here’s hoping this Easter season (or Passover or whatever tradition you celebrate) brings you hope and a sense of promise at the prospect of new beginnings.

It seems that for many people there’s a lot more reason for hope and optimism this year than there was last year at this time. I’ll take that.

And who knows? Maybe next year The Rabbit will visit again. It’s a possibility.

(T-237)

Under Pressure – Day 790

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Under Pressure

I’ve been clenching my teeth in my sleep for a lot longer than I want to admit. I even bought a mouth guard and started wearing it at night a few months ago. But honestly? Over the past few weeks, I started noticing that my teeth on one side of my mouth are more sensitive to temperature – and I realized the joints of my jaws were sore. My poor teeth! Clearly, I’ve put them under pressure. (Yes, follow this link.)

The extent of that pressure became sadly and abundantly clear this evening when a piece of one of my molars actually cracked off. Good grief! I took a photo of the piece of my tooth that ‘just couldn’t take it anymore,’ which allowed me to magnify it. Although it’s kind of unpleasant and a bit embarrassing, I’m posting the photo anyway.

I’m posting it because I’m astonished at the cracks I see striating my tooth. It’s sobering to contemplate just how much pressure my jaws were putting on my teeth – some estimate up to 265 pounds per square inch.

It makes me think about our country and the pressure we’re all under right now as well. It feels as though my broken tooth is a metaphor for what we’re witnessing play out in our country as a whole for generations. That’s how long I think the pressure has been building.

I also think if we put our country under a microscope (or even zoomed in on it with our iPhone cameras – which perhaps is what we did with all the ‘selfies’ and videos taken during the insurrection and attempted coup on Wednesday) we would find as many cracks in some of our foundations as in my tooth.

Something Has to Give

It seems to me that something has to give. It’s obvious that the status quo is unsustainable.

I believe in the principles upon which our country was founded. But I think cracks are appearing and pose an imminent threat of breaking us apart if we don’t apply the principles we hold dear uniformly and fairly.

We’re all still reeling from the debacle that unfolded in our Capitol grounds just three days ago. The rampage exposed a lot of cracks.

I want to believe we can still shore up those parts that have cracks. Perhaps make them stronger through relieving the pressure and desperation felt by so many. Maybe we can do that by sharing the foundational concepts (life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness) more equally. It’s hard not to crack under pressure when you can’t afford food, shelter, or health care – particularly in the midst of a pandemic that you’re told is a hoax – so get back to work – if you even have a job.

It’s even harder to feel free, or heaven forbid, pursue some happiness.

Weight and Hope – 9 January 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Heavy and Light

Right now, the future we’re facing looks like the photo above: There’s huge and pretty dark pressure weighing down on all of us right now. But there’s light at the edges. And it’s exquisitely beautiful.

I feel – even if only tangentially and in my own pretty darn privileged way – the pressure and desperation felt by so many in our country. It’s hard for me to find the words to convey how much I want to contribute to shifting our collective reality toward what we all seek in our hearts.

I truly believe that the way we’ll relieve the collective pressure on all of us individually and on us as a country enough to avoid cracking and breaking apart is to realize we’re all in this together. It’s so simple, yet so complex. We need to get back to those founding principles but this time – really and truly have them apply equally to all.

Post-Script

Can’t hurt to take a look at the lyrics to Under Pressure as we contemplate where we are right now. I’ll admit – I never listened to them as closely as I did tonight – when the title to my post appeared before I wrote any other words. And now, as I go to copy and paste the lyrics here (while you’re hopefully listening by clicking on the link, above), I realize it is the 4th anniversary of David Bowie’s death. I just got chills. This very well may be our last chance.

Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure that brings a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets
Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da that's okay

It's the terror of knowing
What the world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming Let me out
Pray tomorrow gets me higher
Pressure on people people on streets
Day day de mm hm
Da da da ba ba
Okay

Chippin' around kick my brains around the floor
These are the days it never rains but it pours
Ee do ba be
Ee da ba ba ba
Um bo bo
Be lap
People on streets ee da de da de
People on streets ee da de da de da de da

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out
Pray tomorrow gets me higher higher high
Pressure on people people on streets

Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn
Why, why, why?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we're breaking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance
Why can't we give love that one more chance
Why can't we give love give love give love give love
Give love give love give love give love give love

'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the (people on streets) edge of the night
And loves (people on streets) dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pressure

David Bowie and Queen

(T-321)

Home Stretch – Day 777

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Home Stretch – Precious – Photo: L. Weikel

Home Stretch

Here we are, entering the home stretch of 2020, four digits comprising a year that will surely live as infamously in our collective memories as the three digits of 9/11.

Even though I sense it’s a mistake to think everything will suddenly improve once 2021 arrives, there is something to be said for ringing in a new year (or sometimes even a new month or a new week – if we’re desperate). No matter what our circumstances, it’s our nature as humans. We look for a reason to renew our hope, to believe that the tide has turned, that something – even if imperceptible – has changed.

And the truth is, things will change in 2021. As it’s been said countless times over the years, change is constant and therefor inevitable. Every single thing we look at, taste, touch, smell, perceive in any way is changing. It may be imperceptible at any given moment, but change is inexorable.

Fear of Change

Another truth? We humans tend to fear change at the deepest level of our being. How much do we fear it? We fear it so much that we’ll often opt to remain in a situation that literally hurts us physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, including combinations thereof, rather than affirmatively act to change our circumstances.

So these two competing concepts set us up for some serious stress. Everything changes; therefore change is inevitable. Yet we fear change, resist it, and plain just do not like it.

Coping with these internal stressors can be hard on us on a good day. But when you think about what all of us have been dealing with over the past year (and some might even argue for the past four years), including massive job loss, complete disruption of our lives on every level but especially socially, food and housing insecurity felt by people who’ve never encountered this situation before, pandemic infection rates rising exponentially, massive loss of loved ones on a scale not seen in a century. I could throw into this toxic mess the instability and fear that an unstable person in the White House who refuses to abide by the results of our election (and the appalling behavior of his enablers in the U.S. Congress) creates in the pit of our collective stomach.

It’s just all so very much to handle. We are at once being asked to duck and bob and weave the repercussions of change all day every day, while also, again, feeling like any change could lead to something worse.

Hope

And so? With change on the horizon, as it inevitably is, the best we can do is hope that it’s bringing us a better tomorrow. We have the ability to make choices that impact the change we experience.

We can choose to behave safely. We can choose to stay home unless absolutely required for our employment or survival. We can choose to be compassionate toward ourselves and each other. The person who is stressed out beyond measure in the grocery checkout line may well have just lost a family member or friend.

One in 17 of us have contracted the virus and one out of every 1,000 Americans have now died from Covid. The chances of personally experiencing the ravages of this pandemic – or knowing someone who has – are increasing at an alarming rate. Knowing this, we can choose to be kind. We can choose to respect each other and not force a choice between one person’s ‘rights’ and another’s.

We can choose to be people who engender hope – in humanity, in each other, in our future.

We’re in the home stretch of 2020. Let’s set the bar for ourselves for 2021 and stretch to meet our best selves this coming year.

The day we lose our hope, we lose ourselves.

Home Stretch – Spartacus (aka “Kissing the Bear”) – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-334)

Homework – Day 705

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Tohickon Reflections – Photo: L. Weikel

Homework

I’m quite aware how each day, lately, may be feeling like walking through deep, thick mud. As we approach November 3rd – and its aftermath, because let’s face it, there’s two and a half months that follow the election before the inauguration – each interminable day feels heavier and stickier. This reminds me of the admonition I received, and I think I passed along in one of my posts, that it’s important for us to mind our energy and take care of ourselves throughout this month especially. So, to that end, I have some homework to assign.

No, it’s not like any homework I’ve ever given at the conclusion of one of my sessions. It’s easy and you will be glad you did it.

My recommendation is that, if you didn’t already this evening, take the time to watch the documentary about White House Photographer Pete Souza, “The Way I See It.”

It aired tonight without commercials from 10:00 to midnight on MSNBC. The timing of its released is perfect – just what we need to watch and remember as we approach this election and the fatigue I mentioned above is becoming almost too much to bear.

We must shoulder through and, as cliché as it sounds, keep the faith.

Do yourselves a favor: watch that documentary. You’ll realize why you’re so tired. You’ll remember why you’re working so hard right now. And I have no doubt you will feel a glimmer of hope and faith in the ability of our fellow Americans to reclaim the soul of our country being rekindled in your heart.

We can do this. We did it once. We’ll do it again. But maybe this time we’ll recognize just how incredibly precious it truly is.

Watch – remember – and dream it into being.

(T-406)