government

The Imbolic

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Today is the kind of day when you don’t want to leave home. It is a cold day and the sun is not shining. It is raining lightly all day long. It’s a perfect day to stay inside, work at my desk and look out the window to my lovely garden, soaked in the grayness of winter time.

Today is the imbolic, otherwise known as Saint Bridgid’s day. It is the day between the winter solstice, and the spring equinox. The pagans had a goddess for it, but she got translated to a saint in the fifth century, and somewhere along the line, it became groundhog’s day in the United States.

It’s an in between day. A day of question: is it going to be more winter or is springtime starting? Curious that the movie had the day repeating itself ad infinitum stopping time.

Generally, Imbolic is considered positive and a move towards the light from the dark. We saw that a bit in the news today. Hostages were released, and contrary to the popular line, the revolution is being televised. People are looking at large screens in big squares, waiting for their person to show up and be freed.

In Germany people showed up in mass to voice their disapproval of Elon Musk and all that he stands for. That’s a step towards the light. Those people have seen this shit go down before.

Meanwhile on the border between the United States and Mexico there are planks of wood long enough to go through spaces in the fence. A Mexican child can sit on one end.

The US kid is on the other end. They can play seesaw on the wooden plank despite the wall between them. When one is up, the other is down. When the other is up, the one is down and so forth, following rules of harmony and balance.

The rain continues to wash down. I am getting up from my desk to play my guitar. Even though I can’t play it well and certainly never in public, I find it soothing. It is an inbetween activity. 

I play some Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan, now more famous than ever, is simultaneously 83 and 21 in our consciousness.

“I’ll let you be in my dream, if I can be in yours.”

I care, don’t you?

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Recently I was at a UCLA 2018 commencement ceremony.

During this process the National Athem was beautifully played. We were told to stand up and put our hand over our heart.

Thinking of the children inconceivably taken from their mothers at the border, I sat.

A few sat. Most of the thousands stood and looked at us sitting as if we were in the wrong. 
And then, that Melanie Trump’s jacket. OMG. 

It’s hard to believe this is really happening. How to stop it? 

Clearly, it’ll take more than sitting

Letters to Santa in May

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DSC_0001   A couple of days ago, in the middle of May, I got a large envelope in the mail. It was a very official United States one from the “Bay Valley District of Consumer and Industry Affairs Office”.  Needless to say, I was worried. As a self employed person putting two kids through college, I wondered what I could have done wrong on which of the countless tax and financial aid forms I fill out.

It was thin, like one sheet of paper inside. That also didn’t seem like a good thing in my fear based state. An 11×14″ white envelope with a government seal and one sheet of paper inside?

So I wait a day and then open it. To my amazement it is an apologetic letter from the post office. An announcement for an art opening I had last December somehow got itself to the “Letters to Santa” receptacle.

My card was “mistakenly treated as one of the legitimate request letters”. Who knew such a place existed? and that “every piece of mail at said receptacle is intended to be fulfilled by one of our santa helpers”!

They did not know what to do with my card. So they sent it back; with apologies, hoping I’d understand. Truth is, I’m thrilled my request got to Santa, but I don’t really understand.