Was it only weeks ago we were all wearing seasonal smiles as we watched, first, Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye with their pantlegs rolled up, waving ice blue feather fans around as they sang 'Sisters, Sisters'?
Recently, sisters, and many others, wore pink hats that set off a fire storm of discussion here in the United States and around the world. Someday I may be able to walk 3.6 miles, but that Saturday I stood and watched a stroll down 4th Avenue in Seattle by 175,000 people that would not stop. It was one of the most iconic moments of my life. Like the birth of my children, there is now, before the parade of democracy, and after.
Speaking up, speaking out, has always been sacred to me. In younger years, I did not join the chorus against Nixon and involvement in Vietnam for two reason: first, my family forbid it as it would, supposedly, jeopardize my brother's work in the defense department/Navy, and two, because, to me, it seemed like my peers just wanted time off from Spring Quarter.
But all my life I've wondered what I would do if I lived under a dictator, and now the imagined has become reality. It is time to speak.
I am a woman of faith. I have friends with whom I agree completely on the centrality of faith and disagree in a vast array of ways about how that faith ought to be lived out on this earth. When I followed up my decision with a posting of the new first lady in a pornographic picture, I threw gas on a bonfire. For the life of me I could not, cannot understand the 53% who allegedly voted for Trump, except as I understand racism.
My attitude toward discord amongst people is a little unusual in this culture. I believe in any verbal match, both sides have to stay on the field, in the ring, face to face, staying connected in the strong, healthy places until the disagreement is resolved. Resolved, is probably an unknown, so that action of togetherness probably means, co-creating the resolution.
Yea, people pretty much don't do that. /Name calling, shouting matches, division and broken relationships is generally the process of having differing opinions.
The lewd picture brought good discussion, but I wearied of seeing the very thing I opposed, women resorting to using their nakedness and sexuality in service to the prurient interests of men ( and women) to get ahead financially and career-wise, plastered on my feed as people repeatedly commented. I got blocked by a lot of people who didn't like porn on their feed either, or disagreed vehemently with my posting of it.
What's a girl to do? I was the only female child in my family. I had three brothers. I was in the middle. In ninth grade, I had the thought flash through my brain and heart, "You have to learn to like women." I did not know the word 'misogyny, but their was some of that going on. When my little brother was born I had another thought, "I want to treat him differently than I've been treated". Shout out to a terrifically successful experiment. We have a kind and loving and respectful relationship.
But it pains me to have this separation with my sisters in the faith. Now, three days ago, I was going to write some fluff with examples of how we were working it through. But yesterday I realized I have mostly questions to ask them, not just statements that seem oppositional. Yesterday, it became more than clear, the new president is not well mentally or emotionally. Yesterday brought up a discussion, and sometimes a fight, I've been having with the church for the last two decades. The questions like, 'How do women become co dependent?". "Why do women support men behaving badly?" "How did I get to where I am and how is that alike or different from other women?" seeped to the front of my daily presence.
So, instead of tying up this column, this blogpost, with a clever, tidy, humorous observation and resolve, I will end by saying, I'm committed to intentional conversations with my sisters in the other half of this country.
It's not how blogs are supposed to end. But these are new and dangerous times. Friendships with women, solidarity, empathic conversations, resonance in fellowship and service and worship have always been a place of groundedness for me. A meat clever just sliced through that little bowl of ambrosia. Whack! There's cool whip and coconut and canned fruit everywhere!!
I don't know what's going to happen. Do you? Care to share? I'm thinking. I'm pondering. I'm praying. Because we need some big strategies for getting out on the dance floor in our ice blue chiffon dresses or with our pantlegs rolled up and our sock garters showing. This is the life or death of our country, our churches, our faith community. Pressing on.
Love,
Deborah
Friday, January 27, 2017
Thursday, January 19, 2017
A New Thing
This is what's on my radar right now, real time. I just remembered I forgot to start the laundry and it's too late to take any action. The washing machine pressure is almost non existent and takes forever and it's already 9:40 and I'm still three hours away from being able to go to sleep without attending to laundry.
Oh, I'm gonna google and see if I can find a stock public domain photo of a washer and dryer set because everyone knows, people can only read so many words on a screen without a picture of something. What has happened to us all?? ( So proud I remembered to use italics and not shouting caps:)
My little butler's table that I use for a desk in my room, is filled with music stuff as I work through remedial issues of intervals and relative minors and seventh chords and I have a paper keyboard from the used text I found on ebay for $8.95 plus free shipping. ( Hmmmm. Stop and pull a picture of piano? Nah...You'll read a few more words, I'm sure).
This blog is a morphing of my column I wrote for twelve years in The Vashon Loop. I moved off Island and last Spring, I knew it was time to take my banner and wave it elsewhere. Major surgery, moving and going back to school, plus the need to just take a break from pumping out 800-1,000 words every two weeks for twelve years, gave me a huge break. I needed it.
There was one other biggy that happened. You all know I slept in my car for a year to get this book "Kneeling at the Cross: A Protestant Looks at the Crucifixion" to print, right? Well, an agent saw it. Real God story. I'll share it in a couple of years. He liked it. In fact he liked all my rough drafts for other projects that I sent him. So, after a couple of months of me working myself into such a place as I could believe I wasn't Daniel Webster and he wasn't the devil, I signed a contract with him. I admire agents. They are coach, advocate, counselor, stylist, and translator all wrapped into one. They hang in there for years with us artists, writers, dancers, painters, musicians, performers, who all have to be at least a tad neurotic or else we fit into society too much to be of much use artistically, for a percentage. It took months of testing him, but I finally decided he was right. I did need him.
You know that overnight sensation thing? Yea, it doesn't happen. It's yeeeeeeears of creation and rewrites and reviewing and all these other people having their hands on stuff. So we began the slow process of getting my writing to a wider audience. Part of that was the decision to narrow down what I write about.
As soon as I do what I was told to do two weeks ago and contact the guy who's going to help me revamp my website so it looks more anime and less War and Peace, you'll notice the parenting stuff gets kinda tucked away and the personal growth stuff will morph into the faith based stuff.
Everybody is faith based ya know. They have it or they don't. They have faith in something or faith in nothing.
I like talking to people about their faith walks. I find people's faith journeys absolutely fascinating.
So I'm cool with just focusing on faith issues.
Which brings me to the fact that this is the Eve of the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. What will I be doing during the inauguration? Practicing Clementi, and Mozart and Chopin and Beethoven. Actually. Really. My lesson is at noon tomorrow.
As a Christian, I know lots of my brothers and sisters in the faith think he's the answer to their prayers. Me? I can go into a dozen reasons why I think he's the evidence of God saying 'Wellllll. I think I'll just take my hand of blessing off the country for while and let them have at it on their own."
I'm not going into those reasons right now. But one thing I know for sure. We will all be living under oppression for the next four years. Why/ "The love of money is the root of all evil." And he looooooves money. Like Golom. Can't get enough. Isn't very honest about it. Stewards it poorly. Would, and has, stepped on anyone to get more. Have you been around someone who looooooooves money?
So this is kind of a two parter. It's howdy hi and gee what a world , what a world . You do remember the Wicked Witch of the West said that , right? (Oh shoot I still haven't worked any pictures in here. I don't think she's public domain. I think I end up paying Stephen Sondheim money if I put a picture of Elpheba here. Or MGM. Do they still own it?)
Anyhoo. How do you live under the thumb of someone who looooooooves money? Well, first of all you realize you are living with someone with a severe addiction. So, be real. Being President is only going to feed the addiction. Second, you stay out of their disease. Go to Presidential Anon, if you need to. Keep your honest core. Get grounded. Call a spade a spade.
In the next blog, I'll give some practical advice for daily living, but for now, do some research about people who loooooooove money. Did you notice he got elected by people who wanted more money?
Well, that gets us off to a cheery start doesn't it? Positively Speaking had two mission focii when it I wrote for the Loop. The first was to prove that we could talk about negative things in a positive way. Clever title, huh? Secondly, and fair warning, it was to talk about the things of God, the sacred, the eternal, in a way that opened conversations up instead of closing them down.
OK. This is so enough words. I could have chosen a dollar bill or a washer and dryer or the Wicked Witch of the West. Tell me your preference and I'll edit them in. I love the comments on my feed. Leave a few here. Now I'm going to get back to homework. I'm excited to find out the relative minor is just built on the sixth degree of the major scale. How easy is that??
I always signed my column, and so I will continue to do here- every Thursday night or Friday. Every week (whew doggies. Upping my game!)
Love,
Deborah
Oh, I'm gonna google and see if I can find a stock public domain photo of a washer and dryer set because everyone knows, people can only read so many words on a screen without a picture of something. What has happened to us all?? ( So proud I remembered to use italics and not shouting caps:)
My little butler's table that I use for a desk in my room, is filled with music stuff as I work through remedial issues of intervals and relative minors and seventh chords and I have a paper keyboard from the used text I found on ebay for $8.95 plus free shipping. ( Hmmmm. Stop and pull a picture of piano? Nah...You'll read a few more words, I'm sure).
This blog is a morphing of my column I wrote for twelve years in The Vashon Loop. I moved off Island and last Spring, I knew it was time to take my banner and wave it elsewhere. Major surgery, moving and going back to school, plus the need to just take a break from pumping out 800-1,000 words every two weeks for twelve years, gave me a huge break. I needed it.
There was one other biggy that happened. You all know I slept in my car for a year to get this book "Kneeling at the Cross: A Protestant Looks at the Crucifixion" to print, right? Well, an agent saw it. Real God story. I'll share it in a couple of years. He liked it. In fact he liked all my rough drafts for other projects that I sent him. So, after a couple of months of me working myself into such a place as I could believe I wasn't Daniel Webster and he wasn't the devil, I signed a contract with him. I admire agents. They are coach, advocate, counselor, stylist, and translator all wrapped into one. They hang in there for years with us artists, writers, dancers, painters, musicians, performers, who all have to be at least a tad neurotic or else we fit into society too much to be of much use artistically, for a percentage. It took months of testing him, but I finally decided he was right. I did need him.
You know that overnight sensation thing? Yea, it doesn't happen. It's yeeeeeeears of creation and rewrites and reviewing and all these other people having their hands on stuff. So we began the slow process of getting my writing to a wider audience. Part of that was the decision to narrow down what I write about.
As soon as I do what I was told to do two weeks ago and contact the guy who's going to help me revamp my website so it looks more anime and less War and Peace, you'll notice the parenting stuff gets kinda tucked away and the personal growth stuff will morph into the faith based stuff.
Everybody is faith based ya know. They have it or they don't. They have faith in something or faith in nothing.
I like talking to people about their faith walks. I find people's faith journeys absolutely fascinating.
So I'm cool with just focusing on faith issues.
Which brings me to the fact that this is the Eve of the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. What will I be doing during the inauguration? Practicing Clementi, and Mozart and Chopin and Beethoven. Actually. Really. My lesson is at noon tomorrow.
As a Christian, I know lots of my brothers and sisters in the faith think he's the answer to their prayers. Me? I can go into a dozen reasons why I think he's the evidence of God saying 'Wellllll. I think I'll just take my hand of blessing off the country for while and let them have at it on their own."
I'm not going into those reasons right now. But one thing I know for sure. We will all be living under oppression for the next four years. Why/ "The love of money is the root of all evil." And he looooooves money. Like Golom. Can't get enough. Isn't very honest about it. Stewards it poorly. Would, and has, stepped on anyone to get more. Have you been around someone who looooooooves money?
So this is kind of a two parter. It's howdy hi and gee what a world , what a world . You do remember the Wicked Witch of the West said that , right? (Oh shoot I still haven't worked any pictures in here. I don't think she's public domain. I think I end up paying Stephen Sondheim money if I put a picture of Elpheba here. Or MGM. Do they still own it?)
Anyhoo. How do you live under the thumb of someone who looooooooves money? Well, first of all you realize you are living with someone with a severe addiction. So, be real. Being President is only going to feed the addiction. Second, you stay out of their disease. Go to Presidential Anon, if you need to. Keep your honest core. Get grounded. Call a spade a spade.
In the next blog, I'll give some practical advice for daily living, but for now, do some research about people who loooooooove money. Did you notice he got elected by people who wanted more money?
Well, that gets us off to a cheery start doesn't it? Positively Speaking had two mission focii when it I wrote for the Loop. The first was to prove that we could talk about negative things in a positive way. Clever title, huh? Secondly, and fair warning, it was to talk about the things of God, the sacred, the eternal, in a way that opened conversations up instead of closing them down.
OK. This is so enough words. I could have chosen a dollar bill or a washer and dryer or the Wicked Witch of the West. Tell me your preference and I'll edit them in. I love the comments on my feed. Leave a few here. Now I'm going to get back to homework. I'm excited to find out the relative minor is just built on the sixth degree of the major scale. How easy is that??
I always signed my column, and so I will continue to do here- every Thursday night or Friday. Every week (whew doggies. Upping my game!)
Love,
Deborah
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