Today in the United States our clocks turn back. The days are getting shorter. On Tuesday, here in the US, we vote in the most divisive and important election of many of our lifetimes. The time to make the changes that can save our planet are getting shorter, too.
But all around us, beauty persists. All around us is the presence of joy. All around us is the impetus to speak the language of love and connect with the world in joy. All around us is the hope of the future.
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. . .it is my profound fear that we have become a senile empire and that our leaders are waging war on the world with a bellicose frivolity that many of us believe may lead us to where Austria found itself — become a dinosaur empire filled with relics of an overwrought past.
So what happens from here? Well, what happens is what always happens. The eagle turns out to be a raven that wisely knows nevermore.
Something has to change. Something has to stop. And those of us who have the voice to speak have to find means to speak to that change in ways that feel true to ourselves.
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I think that most of us here in America have felt both numb and hopeful this past week. Numb with grief that we are facing yet another horrific aftermath of another horrific school shooting. But also hopeful that these brave young people are speaking out and being heard about the need for something, anything, to change.
Although I am deeply encouraged by these young people, nonetheless I am finding it hard to muster up much joy this week, let alone write about it. In every conversation I have with my fellow adults, none of us know what to do or say or hope. We filter every idea through the lens of history and wonder whether anything will ever change. But underneath all the voices in my head screaming out doubt and fear, there is a glimmer of light
Read More“Who’ll be my role model now that my role model is gone?” - Paul Simon
I grew up in a decade in which young people distrusted anyone over thirty. I grew up with a president vilified by much of America. I grew up in a town where people cursed and lied and hid secrets in broad daylight.
I grew up on the back lots of movie studios where the wholesome television shows like The Waltons and Happy Days were filmed. I knew those shows were make-believe, and that the war protesters and bra burners I saw on television were the real America. But despite growing up surrounded by all that paradox, I was still brought up to believe in the basic moral compass of our country and the decency and goodness of every single human being.
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