Today’s headlines are doin nothin but causin fear and chaos over disaster and death. A hell-broth of fire storms from coast to coast and if you are like me, you are feeling staggering grief, little beyond grief.
“Trump Again Refuses to Commit to Accepting Election Results” (New York Times).
“Trump Renews Mail Vote Attacks, Again Questions Reliability of Ballots” (Wall Street Journal).
“Florida Supreme Court rules against Parkland families” (FOX News).
“Breonna Taylor shooting: A 190-plus-day timeline shows how her death changed Louisville” (Courier Journal).
“Missouri’s governor has refused to mandate masks. Now he’s tested positive for the coronavirus” (Washington Post).
“California Fire Map & Tracker” (San Fransisco Chronicle).
Thankfully there is an outdoors, away from most of this craziness, away to blue sky and open space. And here one can retreat to a place which acts as a reminder of the before days.
Today I had a colleague call me out for an error, which was fine, but they then threw me under the bus by highlighting the mistake to my boss. Yeah, whatevs, thankfully I have no real concerns there. I mean, I know my value and all that, but who needs more crap, right? So much bad news streaming through our stream. Always more fear. More despair. More bad shit for us all to endure. We search for that one light flickering in the shadows, desperate for one bright second in the dark. What to do? Head to the pool to shake it off the best way I know. Diving into the green and stroke after stroke letting all that cool water slide over my stream till I’m smoothed over again.
My students were a bit alarmed when I mentioned what a glorious Indian summer we were having this September. Yes, alarmed. They were concerned I was using a derogatory term. Perhaps they are right, but it was a term from my youth and I was only remarking on the extraordinary warm, gloriously warm, days we are experiencing. A glorious string of days that I am taking full advantage of by spending afternoons outdoors. As they sat in my classroom peering at the blue beyond the bank of windows I encouraged them to do the same once the last bell rings. Get out and breathe in the prana.
How many times have you stopped to say thank you to this spectacular earth? As I sailed along the smooth pavement and perfectly engineered bridges along the miles of bike path, I thought, how is this planet so so so so giving and available and wonderful and yet, still taken for granted? These days, these gifted days, are all opportunities to stop. Savor. Be appreciative.
Food too. Eat fresh and take advantage of seasonal delights. I carried two sweet lemons back from my last Los Angeles trip, plucked from my brother’s backyard trees, now squeezed over fresh eggs, local sausage and veggies, making for a fast and fabulous al fresco supper. A sweet lemon? Yes, there is a simplicity in such a miraculous delight.
Eat light. Eat local. Eat one ingredient foods. And bless your good fortune. Seriously great fortune if you eat half this deliciously.
Raise your glass and salute this splendid planet we inhabit. And revel in all it offers. Air. Water. Soil. Do what you can to keep it spinning without your footprint slowing it. If you have the great fortune of reveling in such a spectacular Indian summer, why not enjoy it to the very last? Let that golden orb perform its magic over your mood. Watch it sink beyond the treetops and spill into violet and crimson and never forget you are among the lucky. Never. Do let me know what Autumn joys you experience! xxoo