Thoughts on a walk

Leftrightleftrightleftright. I'm walking quickly in the bitter cold.

Leftrightleftright. Walking. Marching?

Marching. Soldiers marching.

Soldiers...

War...

The latest mass antiwar demonstration happened just over a week ago (Jan. 27) in Washington D.C.

I stayed home that day. Wasn't feeling well enough even to go to the local Women in Black vigil, but I've been wanting to put something on this subject in my blog. I've abandoned several attempts to record my feelings. Can't find the right words. How do I begin to express the cold fury, the wrenching grief I feel? Day after day after day, we hear about more people being blown to bits in places far away--far away, but where I have family.

Yes, I have family over there.

We all have family over there. (Brothers and sisters...in the human family.)

"War is the total failure of the human spirit," says Robert Fisk.

Maybe I'll let a master's image speak, instead.

Guernica, uploaded by .:kemal:..

And Molly Ivins died on Wednesday--damn, I should've dropped a stone in remembrance of her yesterday at the Fellowship.

Leftrightleftright. Soldiers...marching over frozen ground.

Frozen ground makes me think of Napoleon's march and defeat--I've been meaning to order that Tufte poster of Minard's graphic to replace my old, beat-up one. Maybe I'll do that today.

What was the other thing I should do today? Oh yeah, record a copy of my Rosenberg dvd, "Basics of Nonviolent Communication," so a friend can review the techniques.

Funny, both Tufte and Rosenberg are reminders of how my brother's life has touched mine.

My brother is the one who first showed me this marvelous poster, thus introducing me to the brilliant mind of Edward Tufte.

And it was my brother's bookshelf where I first encountered a compelling little book about communication by someone I'd never heard of before, a clinical psychologist with staggering wisdom, named Marshall Rosenberg.

Thank you, brother.

Bro called yesterday with some good news. Our grandmother is out of the hospital.

I think we all realize she's nearing the end of her life. I wonder if she thinks much about death, or if her mental deterioration has done away with that kind of reflection? I wonder if she feels ready to go.

I've arrived at the dock. The gulls are bobbing up and down, floating on the water. The significance of that sight? They're not standing on solid ice. It's a rare winter now that the bay freezes. Anger and sadness rise up inside me at all those ignorant and/or greedy fuckheads. LOUSY GODDAMNED FUCKHEADS who, over the past several decades, have blocked progress towards reducing greenhouse gas emissions.

The media gave good coverage this past week to the scientific consensus that we humans are affecting Earth's climate. I suppose I should take heart in that, and feel some relief that more people are paying attention.

Instead, once again, I mainly feel anguish that we, as a nation, as a species, didn't respond to the warnings much sooner, much faster. What idiotic, suicidal myopia.

I'm so angry and disgusted. I'm so heartsick. I'm so sorry, great-great-great grandchildren.

Where is my optimism this morning? My faith in human wisdom? My hope for the future? Must be here somewhere...[searching pockets]...though I can't seem to find 'em at the moment.

A laugh or two will help. So I'm looking forward to hearing the latest Prairie Home Companion's joke show. The live broadcast was this past Saturday but I missed it, so I'll catch the rebroadcast this coming weekend.

Another thing that helps: remembering last night. The world may be going to hell in a handbasket, but some refuge can be found in the arms of my lover. H., you are a dear, sweet man.

My thoughts turn to friends, new & old, in the blogosphere and in real life... Wondering what's going on with my west coast girlfriend, I'm worrying I should have called over the weekend... I hope we can connect soon. I'm excited to have recently met some UUs who are kindred spirits! Hoping we can keep in touch as penpals. I'm sensing something's amiss with a fellow blogger--are you down, Tom? I hope this day gives you reason to smile. And I'm thinking of my dear "vegan sistah" who was visiting over the weekend, and who's on her way back home upstate now. We had dinner together at a new vegan restaurant yesterday. Since she & I had no interest in watching the Superbowl, we couldn't have been happier (though H. was a little anxious about getting home). I really should visit her in her new digs sometime this year.

I'm home. The walk is done, the day's begun. I hope your Monday is going well, dear readers. Take care.