storms approaching

 

Out of a great need, we are all holding hands and climbing

Not loving is a letting go.

Listen, the terrain around here is far too dangerous for that.

--Hafiz

photos: 'storms approaching', Springfield, Illinois 2011

~mini rant~

Day 84. 

This is hard. It's hard to stay indoors day after day because the curve isn't curving fast enough, and the weather so bleak and mean. It's hard to remember to be in the 'now'--no one says you have to enjoy it, and even that is hard to remember. It's hard not to take things personally even though wise men say its one of the keys to happiness, it's hard to be 'still' and 'centered' when everywhere I turn and look, the world seems to shift and crumble  away. It's hard to know who the enemy is while gun sales are skyrocketing like its the end of civilization or something. (It's hard not feel jealous of other countries whose people don't automatically think of shooting other people. And, whose leader doesn't egg them onto anarchy and widespread criminality.) It's hard that with some, god has everything to do with it and with others, god is better left out of it and maybe the funny thing is they both think the other is surely going to hell. It's hard to watch the news and not find yourself laughing to keep from crying. It's hard to keep it all together day after day, especially when I've been sleeping like the rest of covid nation and I'm feeling a little more fragile and maybe not so sensible. It's hard and I'm complaining and I promised I wouldn't. Or that if I did,  I'd make it funny just like Seinfeld requires of his children. But then you should know, that's hard. 

~rant over~ :))

OK. Anyway here's the amazing and enduring Chip Taylor featuring lots of black and white street photography (you know how we love that) and his perfectly sage advice on answering life's big questions....

The Family Of Things

You do not have to be good

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

 

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

 Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain 

are moving across the landscapes

over the prairies and the deep trees

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —

over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. 

-Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
photos: Rome 2013

*     *     *      

It's the best of times, and the worst of times. Everyday we're tugged this way and that by the stories of tragedy, heroism and helplessness. Some of us are just baking our way through the lockdown, or sitting numbly, waiting for release, or November, or both; or all of the above. Then there are the protesters who can't or won't stay home. It's tough for everyone. So we sew face masks and wash our hands and keep on standing six feet apart at the grocery. Or not because maybe we're still going to work everyday, one of the 'everyday heroes' though paid less than heroically and likely without health insurance. Sometimes I feel stupid because who knows, maybe the conspiracy theorists and anti-vaxxers were right after all, and I worry that I didn't even bother to find out what they were yelling about on youtube. Like maybe we should have been digging bunkers after all instead of following make-up tutorials or dancing on tiktok.  But nevermind all that. Here I offer the wonderful Mary Oliver to keep on reminding us its going to be okay. And what better series to pair her poem with than these photos from a trip to the beautiful Eternal City? Ah Rome, indeed it was nice to remember how I veni'd and vidi'd, but this city and its living breathing stones arranged in marvels of cathedral, tomb and bloodlust amphitheater definitely still vici's me. Totus tuus :)