In 1947 the Doomsday Clock was officially set for the first
time at 7 minutes to midnight. In 1949, the clock was set at 3 minutes to
midnight because the Soviet Union tested the first atomic bomb, officially
starting the arms race (1)
I would have been concerned if it was at 11:00pm. But, two
and a half minutes to midnight? What the heck? Are we sticking our heads in the sand on this?
storm in our sleep? With the symbolic clock ticking closer to world
catastrophe, are we going to roll over and sleep in and hit the snooze button?
We’ve had times the clock gained some minutes. The furthest
from midnight was in 1991 when the Soviet Union and the United States signed
the first Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty; later the Soviet Union went through
dissolution; the clock was 17 minutes from midnight. I supposed we all exhaled
when the US and the Soviet Union finally came to the table and talked. In 1991
we watched happy movies like Father of the Bride or City Slickers without a
care in the world back then. Michael Jackson’s Black or White got us thinking
about equality. (2) Those were good times.
The clock is now inching its way toward history repeating
itself or worse. The clock was moved even closer to midnight again ‘because of
the Rise of Nationalism, United States President Donald Trumps comments over
nuclear weapons, the threat of a renewed arms race between the U.S. and Russia,
and the disbelief in scientific consensus over climate change by the Trump
Administration.” This is the closest it’s approached midnight since 1953. (1)
The first week of the Trump Presidency has my head spinning
and my gut in knots. There are so many things wrong with it: lies, executive
orders that will impact the lives of millions, dispensing away with years and
years of diplomatic process and economic gains with Tweets.
I feel like I’m beating a drum on a hilltop but nobody is listening or believes
me (except my human rights, science and journalistic-minded friends);
all those crazy liberal friends of mine who care about human and civil rights
and climate change more than economics. The progressive America that I believed
in has taken deliberate ‘mother may I’ steps back 50 years; we have four more
years of this ‘kind’ of unprecedented, censoring leadership. The Almighty
Dollar is worth more than Almighty God’s exhortation to love and serve all
mankind, and steward the world he’s given us.
So like it or not…tick tock.
My dearest friend, Jessie posted something on Facebook the
other day: “Getting on FB has been tough lately. So much spewing and anger. May our
hearts be revived to live again...to look around and see and feel real LIFE.
Joy! Tell me your favorite song. Get your fingers in the paint. What are you
excited about? What are the birds singing in your yard? Feel the sun on your
face. Live. It’s all gonna be okay. Give love to someone. Heal. Unplug. Go quiet. Pray. Breathe.”
At first I noticed my internal resistance. “That’s great
Jess, I’ll just keep banging on my drum. Feels like the world’s going to end
and you remind us how to live life.” Her words stuck like peanut butter on the
roof of my soul.
I love Jessie so much. She’s one of the kindest, most whimsically artistic, gentle, godly, and childlike souls I know. If ever I would
worship at someone’s feet other than Jesus, it would be Jessie’s. We’ve been
through hard things that troubled us deeply: we wept at the state of the world
after 9/11. We’ve prayed and anguished as mothers while we watched our children
struggle or spin out of control. We loved our husbands and hoped we could do
well by them. Jessie’s grace through it all has always wowed me. She lights up
a room and she probably doesn’t even know how much wattage she puts out. Her
words to me never fall to the ground.
My former neighbor, Randy, and I have both been blasting our Facebook Wall with political and human rights posts. We’re both as mad as hell and truly concerned about the direction our country is taking from the White House. We are not trying to be obnoxious or feel we have the corner on the truth (okay, maybe Randy does). ;-) No, things happening these first few weeks of the Trump Administration affect us both personally. We post to educate.
My former neighbor, Randy, and I have both been blasting our Facebook Wall with political and human rights posts. We’re both as mad as hell and truly concerned about the direction our country is taking from the White House. We are not trying to be obnoxious or feel we have the corner on the truth (okay, maybe Randy does). ;-) No, things happening these first few weeks of the Trump Administration affect us both personally. We post to educate.
Most Americans hate politics and don’t want to engage. I get
it. And now 45, The Tea Party Right, The Alt-Right, and surrogates of 45 have
created a narrative of doubt: “the press are scum”, “alternative facts”, “you
can’t trust the lying press”, “they should shut up.” Some people have grown
apathetic and don’t want to hear it; it’s easier to do Sudoku or binge watch on
Netflix.
Even though all this Doomsday ‘tick tock’ and changing of
the guard in Washington are flipping me out, I gotta get a grip and also live
in the moment. Jessie was onto something. What did I need to heal? How can I
unplug and get quiet? I haven’t exhaled since November 8th. So I went to the beach and searched for sea
glass and red & white seashells.
The morning I went to the sea, it was overcast with layers of gray and lavender
skies. Since moving to Florida, I can’t get over how artistically inspiring the
sky appears from day to day; it’s a masterpiece. Thank goodness this day the
waves didn’t match my inner agitation of late; it was offering me a different
view. The undulation of the waves was unusually calm and unfazed. I really
needed to be here to take in this moment. For millions of years the ocean has
committed to it’s gravitational purpose. Life goes on. Nature is proof of that.
I look out towards the horizon knowing Africa is 4,000 miles
away, and the planet is spinning at 1,040mph. When I step into the cool sea, it
feels like I’m officially connected to every continent in the world; I’m one
with everyone in the world. I’m as small in the universe as speck of sand on
the shore. And as much as I think I know things, I know nothing. A sense of infinite awe washes over me.
I tap into my inner Anne Marrow Lindbergh. Each time I’m at the ocean we have a
little moment together. I’ll ask the sea if it has any gifts for me. I’ll
search for sea glass as a meditative experience; it slows me down; they are not
easy to find on the eastern shores of Florida. It requires stepping on lots of
broken seashells. Lately, I’ve felt a little broken inside too.
I walk slowly and mindfully over a shell cluster area. I make sure to balance
my weight and steady the placement of my foot so the shells can fit in just the
right spaces as not to jab or cut. I’ll stand still and scan the multiple
colors of fragment shells. The sea glass is not obvious. I’ll soften my gaze
and relax. What do I notice? I’m waiting for my eyes to see what my thinking
mind will miss. I’m as giddy as a kid when I find a tiny colored piece of sea
glass; usually they are green, white, or amber. I pick it up quickly in case my
thinking mind takes over or a wave washes it away. I’ll look at it then turn to
the sea smile and say, “Thank you.” The glass is smoothed down by time and
pressure. Such is life. These are my gifts from the sea.
I’m trying to figure out what my part will be in standing up for human and civil rights: march and boycott? Policies of each president are up for debate. I recognize that many who voted for 45 wanted more American jobs and less government. I welcome and support those changes. Yet, when it becomes a partisan issue, and Republicans turn a blind eye against our American values, rule of law, human rights, and freedom of the press, we’ve lost our way. The same would be true if it was the other way around.
I’m cool if people want less and responsible fiscal
government. I worry that I’ve pissed too many people off who don’t know my
heart when I post political news. But those are things I can’t control. I’m worried about my friends whose lives are
impacted by this Administration. If we had lunch together and I told you their stories, you'd be moved to action too. At the
end of the day I try to do my best to live from a place of integrity to my core
values; that’s something I can control.
The Piano Guys song may be right; It's Gonna Be Okay. In the meantime, I’ll just be me. I'll stay engaged with things that matter. I'll march or make phone calls if I have to. I’ll pick up gifts from the sea off the beach, take more pictures than is normal on a camera phone, laugh, paint and play the mandolin, take sunrise and sunset walks with Rich, watch Buddha run at the doggy park, eat more sushi when Kevin's in town, connect with friends far and near, look forward to the next opportunity to travel and see Adam, Sarah, and April and our Grandkiddos, bask in the Florida sunshine, and teach people how to get out of emotional and physical pain with yoga therapy and meditation.
Doomsday may or may not happen. However, it should give us all pause. What is the collective consciousness of our country and the world at large? I'm concerned but not consumed with it. Yet, at this present moment, with all it's stories, all that's actually happening is I'm typing on my computer watching my dog eat a Himalayan bone.
(1)
Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doomsday_Clock
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5pBjopDymts
