Today, having driven down to our local farmer’s market, I was feeling out of sorts, walking with puppy Shadow on nearby trails, and trying to convince myself to “go back in” to the market despite having seen at the border, along with shiny police cars, a phalanx of restive black-clad, masked young ones, itching for action — Antifa? Anti-antifa? — in any case, some kind of pretense at thought police, who, luckily are not permitted into the market area. I could go on to tell about this summer’s broohaha — for Bloomington Indiana truly is a fractal of the larger world — culminating with the incident a month ago where one protestor did get in, and stood with her sign in front of a farmer’s stand of which the young couple who run it supposedly identify as “identitarians,” without however, ever espousing their political views while selling vegetables.
I’m not going to go into this more; it’s just so boring, this need for political correctness of any kind. Just don’t want to give it any more energy than it has already received.
So there I was, walking with Shadow, disgruntled, when a monarch butterfly fluttered from left to right past my face, within inches. YES! This “sign” from the natural world did, decidedly, lift my spirits.
So then, a few minutes later, past market-goers on my way back to the car, I ran into a dear old friend. Haven’t seen her for a couple of years! We stood and talked about our recent adventures — me to a Sufi gathering and a permaculture gathering, both in southern states — her to a wonderful wedding in D.C., where she and her husband stayed with the wedding party in a huge house — but with Fox News on all day, she said, visibly wincing. With that, she started to automatically rev up to the usual hate-Trump-bonding-ritual that works so well in this academic town. Except that I gently interjected: “You need to know that for the most part I am with Trump, and I know most of my friends here are not, but his need to drain the swamp by eliminating the scourge of pedophilia and satanic ritual abuse is, I feel, absolutely essential if we are to evolve further on this planet. She looked surprised, even stunned, but respectful. It appeared that she had not known about what concerned me, until I mentioned Epstein; this saga she had heard of, and so was more willing than perhaps she had been before the Epstein info, disinfo, and misinfo started to inundate both mainstream and alternative media.
I went on to assure her that I realize that, given his history as an uber-capitalist mogul, Trump’s views on the environment are awful, and that in order to deepen his world view he “needs to walk barefoot in the forest on mushrooms” — my mantra. But even before I said that, she was not ridiculing my view of Trump; instead, simply listening, truly and attentively, and even lovingly.
What struck me about our conversation, was 1) that she hadn’t heard of what concerned me so much; and 2) she was immensely respectful of my views, even so.
I’m tempted to send her (and my sister!) this latest amazing Martin Geddes compilation, another well-crafted compendium of news events and the accelerating thrust of what, I agree, appears to be their overall meaning. He really knows how to put the detailed enormity of what we who scour the internet on a daily, hourly basis discover, into a manageable outline with titles and subheads. Thanks Martin! Immensely, intensely, grateful.
By the way, concerning his final section, a discussion of preparations for what is likely ahead, I cannot stress enough two items: 1) personal, daily centering practices, (journaling, yoga, meditation, walking, taichi, to name a few); and 2) embracing connectedness with others around you who also want to engender authentic community during these lonely, anonymous, often mean, or meaningless, even cruel! times. Self and community. Both. Plus the continuously evolving dynamic between them. Big time. Everything else flows from that process in which we begin to create the new culture now and get a head start on #TheStorm and what’s ahead.