"he is almost better than america deserves, but since he will in many ways be the world's president, i think he is the man the world deserves."       -slim (via anais mitchell)

IMAGINE


The year is 2016. You glance at the television one morning and see President Obama having another of his many press conferences. He has now been in office for almost 8 years. It has not been perfect, but things are much better than when he took office in January of 2009.

You notice that his hair has whitened and he still has that winning smile and that take charge/positive energy that he had when he was campaigning back in 2008.

You remember how concerned you were about whether or not he would win in 2008 and you feel deeply contented that he has been safely in office for such a long time. He and Congress have done much to address global warming, healthcare, development of alternative energy sources and a variety of other matters, important to the country and the planet and to help begin to restore America's respect in the world.

You feel deep gratitude for the past eight years and how things have unfolded.

See it...Feel it...breathe it...Pass it on. Let us remember... all of the wonderful reasons we appreciate this reality and our part in helping to build it.

THE CHALLENGE:
Take 30 seconds right now. Close your eyes and imagine exactly what our country will feel like.

Imagine successful diplomacy.
Imagine peace and restored prosperity.
Imagine the citizen groups, progressive populism, social justice, and the grassroots finding their voice.
Imagine windmills and clean cars and new kinds of suppressed technology.
Imagine the earth being healed and revitalized, with everyone being brothers and sisters.
Imagine being very proud of your country and its leaders. Imagine whatever it is that draws you to support change. Imagine what your life will look like.

Just 30 seconds. Do it several times a day. We can shift and change the vibration of this country with positive visions just like this.

i was mistaken of the source of the account i had posted about johm mccain in turtle island. 

i respectfully withdraw this story, as i don't know the origin and many a websites are validating it as a rumor.

be that or not, i don't need to be spreading negativity.  there's plenty of that going around and we've got better things to be doing.

i apologize for getting carried away.  we can win this one fair and square.

with the help of my friend mark hanson i have posted a video for 'song for change 2008'.  we went searching for it to make sure it made it up and found pages and pages (and pages) of songs that other people have done too.  i continue to be amazed by the actions and words of impassioned people who really want to make something beautiful happen.

i'm feeling pretty good about this. 

most of us live in a world where we think we are right.  we think we know best and wish other people would just realize that and change their ways.  i don't like to admit this, probably no one does.  but our entire civilization was built on conquering and making people do things the way we do them. we stamped out many thousands of flames that had burned bright for many thousands of years so that ours could be a monumental blaze and it's becoming increasingly clear that that wasn't such a good idea for the planet or any living thing on it.  (can we say "rabid forest fire?"  hmmm, not the most elegant phrase i've ever come up with.  time may have brought me a better one.  that's ok, moving on.)

but the truth is that we all have our place here.  we are all important.  we can't "get rid of" anything or anyone.  what we can do is come together and realize that what is good for one person (or culture) is not necessarily good for another.  this is nature, not the greed and blood-thirsty lust for power that we somehow have deemed inevitable.  we need to relearn tolerance and compassion and downright awe for the spectrum of diversity and the strength that it gives us (strength, not power).   we can realize that we all want pretty much the same things.  food and water, shelter, love, safety, and the freedom and opportunity to learn and grow and pursue that which brings us joy.  does that cover the bases?  we differ only in how we believe we can achieve those means, and how can we truly hold that against someone?  many someones?  perhaps millions of someones?

i hold fast to the believe that positive change can only come from positivity.  i am working hard to be compassionate as well as proactive, and to calmly ask kevin to remove the wine glass from my hand when the debates are on and i'm struck by the overwhelming desire to break something. 

how much dispute is really just miscommunication and misunderstanding?

whatever you do, do it with love
(including plugging my name into youtube to check out my video).

peace and well-being to you all.

i've been wanting to write something Great right about now, as history is being made and, once again, people are doing amazing things to stand up for what they believe in and what they know is right.  i don't know what that is, but may we learn--may I learn--that dabbling uncertainty ought to out-do silence any day of the week.  time and time again i am surprised and overjoyed to hear that something i said or did was inspiring to someone and changed their life just a little bit.  people do this for us many times a day, whether we really notice it or not, and we don't always tell them.  how can we?  i guess the miracle is that we plant seeds wherever we go.  our thoughts, our interactions, our hopes and dreams, our doubts, our kindnessess or otherwise, they all are released into the world as baby birds are from the nest.  we are more powerful than we know.  and we can do more good in the world than we ever could dream possible.  that's who we are.  i'm really, really excited about this. 

i went to my first caucus this year.  my biggest political "act" up 'til then was getting drunk in the ranchroom at 2:00 in the afternoon when bush got re-elected.  i've cared.  i've been really upset at the way things are, and the way it seems they will be for the rest of the entirety of earth's (or man's) lifetime, but as far as politics and leadership go, i've never thought i could make any difference at all.  a dangerous perspective, especially when millions of other people have it too.  we've let a lot of shit slide.  it's pretty unbelievable.  but the caucus.  i went, and actually felt pretty out of place.  why?  because i felt that everyone around me was really knowledgable on the issues and the facts and the history leading up to them.  and i wasn't.  i feel i have a good overall understanding that most of it has all been total bullshit and i feel pretty good about being a skeptic, or at least a questioner, but have never been one to excel at keeping straight names and dates and bills and all that.  any high-schooler will probably tell you the same.  so they asked if anyone wanted to speak on behalf of their candidate of choice, and i really wanted to say something.  i mean, i was there, but i didn't want to just settle for being there.  but i didn't have any actual arguments about the candidates plans for office, or what they had voted for against and what they planned to do in the white house.  all i could think of to say.... was exactly what i should have said.  but at the time seemed small and insignificant, and even downright irrelevant.  all i could think of to say.... is "i'm here, and i care."  that's all it was, and for me it was huge.  and after that caucus i began to hear that very thing coming from every direction.  young people are coming out of the woodwork.  young people are being inspired.  it's really incredible.  and to me.... that seems more important than any issue that could be debated and voted on.  the people are the important part of a presidency.  the greatest leader in the world couldn't do it alone (and nor would we want he or she to). 

it is truly a miracle that someone has come along and inspired millions.  i feel nothing but love and hope and enthusiasm when it comes to barack obama.  and he's not perfect; nobody is.  but look at what he's been able to do.  i'm ever grateful, as my thoughts and actions will continue to fly the coop and change the world.

so will yours.

the following excerpt is a few paragraphs of something my mum sent me.  the author's name is at the end.  i planned to just post this, but the window was opened and the ball began to roll.  it'll do that.

*Only a brilliant man, with the spirit of a preacher and the humble heart of a kindly family doctor can lead us now. We are afraid, out of ideas, and worst of all out of hope. Obama is the cure. And we Americans have it in us to rise to the occasion. We will. We're about to enter one of the most frightening periods of American history. Our country has rarely faced more uncertainty. This is the time for greatness. We have a great leader. We must be a great people backing him, fighting for him, sacrificing for a cause greater than ourselves.

A hundred years from now Obama's portrait will be placed next to that of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt. Long before that we'll be telling our children and grandchildren that we stepped out in faith and voted for a young black man who stood up and led our country back from the brink of an abyss. We'll tell them about the power of love, faith and hope. We'll tell them about the power of creativity combined with humility and intellectual brilliance. We'll tell them that President Obama gave us the gift of regaining our faith in our country. We'll tell them that we all stood up and pitched in and won the day. We'll tell them that President Obama restored our standing in the world. We'll tell them that by the time he left office our schools were on the mend, our economy booming, that we'd become a nation filled with green energy alternatives and were leading the world away from dependence on carbon-based destruction. We'll tell them that because of President Obama's example and leadership the integrity of the family was restored, divorce rates went down, more fathers took responsibility for their children, and abortion rates fell dramatically as women, families and children were cared for through compassionate social programs that worked. We'll tell them about how the gap closed between the middle class and the super rich, how we won health care for all, how crime rates fell, how bad wars were brought to an honorable conclusion. We'll tell them that when we were attacked again by al Qaeda, how reason prevailed and the response was smart, tough, measured and effective, and our civil rights were protected even in times of crisis...

We'll tell them that we were part of the inexplicably blessed miracle that happened to our country those many years ago in 2008 when a young black man was sent by God, fate or luck to save our country. We'll tell them that it's good to live in America where anything is possible. Yes we will.*

Frank Schaeffer is the author of CRAZY FOR GOD-How I Grew Up As One Of The Elect, Helped Found The Religious Right, And Lived To Take All (Or Almost All) Of It Back. Now in paperback.

i am entirely, utterly, totally blown away by the fact that i can type in the one broken half-sentence of some mid-nineties top ten hit that is nothing more than a vague and hazy recollection in my memory into an internet search engine..... and in less than two seconds i have "the sweater." if anyone else remembers this i totally want to know about it.

The Sweater — Meryn Cadell

Girls, I know you understand this and feel the intrinsic incredible emotion
You have just pulled over your head the worn, warm sweater belonging to a boy
Now you haven't had a passionate kissing session or anything, but you got to go on a camping trip with him and 8 other people from school
And you practically slept together, your sleeping bag right next to his
And you woke in the night to watch him as he slept, but you couldn't see anything because it was dark so you just lay there and listened to his breathing and wondered if your heart might burst

The sweater has that slightly goat-like smell which all teenage boys possess, and that smell will lovingly transfer to all your other clothes
If you get to keep it for a few days you can sleep with it, but don't let your mom see because she'll say, "What is that filthy thing, and who does it belong to besides the trash man?"
So you'll have to keep it under the covers with you
You can kind of lie it beside you or wrap it around your waist or touch it on your legs or whatever, that's your business

Now if the sweater has, like, reindeer on it or is a funny color like yellow, I'm sorry but you can't get away with a sweater like that.
Look for brown or gray or blue
Anything other than that and you know you're dealing with someone who's different
And different is not what you're looking for
You're looking for those Alpine-ski chiseled features and that sort of blank look which passes for deep thought or at least the notion that someone's home
You're looking for the boy of your dreams who is the same boy in the dreams of all of your friends

Now the sweater isn't going to fit you, of course
You can kind of roll up the sleeves in a jaunty way that says, "This is the sweater belonging to a boy and the boy is a genuine hunk-a hunk-a burning love and this is not just some hand-me-down from your brother or your father"

Monday, wear the sweater to school
Be calm, look cute
Don't tell him about the dream you had about the place the two of you would share when you get older, just be yourself
The best, cutest, quietest person of yourself
Definitely wear lip gloss
He looks at you and he looks away and then he walks away and the smell of the sweater hits you again suddenly like ape-scent gloriola and you get a note passed to you by a girl in history that says he needs his sweater back, he forgot that you put it on in the tent on Saturday and he's been looking for it
And you don't have to die of humiliation
You are a strong person and this is a learning experience
You can still hold your head up high as you run from the classroom tearing the stinking sweater from your body

You look at that sweater, carefully
And you realize that love made you temporarily blind
You've got a secret now, honey, and though you would never sink as low as him you could blab it all over the school if you wanted
The label in that sweater said 100% Acrylic

i have a kitten. two sundays ago my co-worker went out for a break in the sunshine and brought back with him a kitten. just like that. and i must say i have never really had the animal nurturing instincts. i had a couple cats and dogs growing up. i liked them a lot. but now, mostly i can take them or leave them. but this little furball (who is now running around dragging kevin's socks in her mouth) showed up and i lost all control. perhaps i have been so open to the universe lately that i knew unmistakably that this was for me. i didn't even think too much about it before i scooped her up and walked the few miles home, doing my best to comfort her and explain the crazy world of cars and bicycles and chainsaws and birds and dogs around her. she got a lot of attention from passers-by. and i just held her and loved her. that's all i could do.

that began my stretch of poor to no sleep. the first night i was so concerned that some freak accident would happen that i held on to her all night, carefully making sure kev didn't accidentally roll onto her or something. the next morning was ok 'cause it was one of those more-important-than-sleep nights. like the first time you stay awake all night with a lover and in the morning the world is anew. to sleep would simply be missing it.

i think my first breakdown came when the anger did. our landlords are wonderful and expressed concern only for a few particular parts of the apartment. one of which being the wood banister that they built themselves, if the time came that she began to scratch at it. i think it was day three, i was tired as hell, long (unexpected) day at work, hazel was here for dinner (kev's seven year old daughter for those who don't know), and annabelle began scaling the main post. i got her down, she went back. and again, and again. and then i yelled. loudly. and i came at her clapping my hands as hard as i could and i grabbed her and threw her into the garage. hazel wasn't phased but asked me something about it and i said something about the cat just needed to chill out and apparently so did i. then i just walked upstairs and the damn broke.

where in god's name did the violence come from? it felt awful. it felt like an intruder with a stale stench. and i was scared because i really felt that i had no control over it. i haven't felt that since i was a teenager. not since my mom wouldn't let me sleep over and bryant's house the night i really wanted to get drunk and i beat my steering wheel 'til my knuckles were unrecognizable. probably that same year i broke a couple windshields too (my own), but that was then and this is now. not that i haven't been angry since. believe me i have my share. but not violently.

annabelle sabine has claws and teeth to match the best of them. i can understand the violent reactions based solely on how bad it hurts when she takes a flying leap off the toilet to latch onto your abdomen or suddenly for no good reason bites your thigh so hard that it leaves behind four teeth marks and a bruise. after the banister incident i brought my tear-stained face downstairs and retrieved annabelle so we could have a heart to heart and make up. and if she could have spoken three words they would have been "oh HELL no." she clawed herself out of my bleeding stinging hands and i could hardly even stand it. "this is an abusive relationship...." i told myself, as silly as it sounded at the time. she didn't know she was hurting me and i didn't mean to get angry. and then we would come together and purr and love and talk in kisses and low voices.

did i mention that part? most of the time i just call her lovee 'cause she's so freaking affectionate. and it would always come back to that. day five, perhaps, with no sleep i came downstairs and choked up as i told kevin i couldn't do this. (who the hell knew that a little kitten could put me through so much emotional turmoil in less than a week?) i was a wreck, even though most of the lost sleep that night had been her absolute inability to cuddle with me without aggressively pushing her face into my face, especially my nose and mouth. licking my nostrils seems to be the ultimate goal and no matter how sleep deprived i am that is not something that my body with allow to happen. it's a built in reflex. you get out of the way. i'm surprised i'm not having neck problems.

i went to work and kev did some research about kittens who are weaned too soon from their mothers, how they don't get the chance to learn how hard is too hard when it comes to play. that night my faith was somewhat renewed and i did my best to be empathetic with her and just ignore her when she played too rough. i also did my best to climb in bed and close my eyes without being terrified that she would leap out of the darkness and tear them out of my skull. (believe me this has been a legitimate fear.)

so here we are. we're buddies. i feel like a new mom, both of us learning as we go. i'm freaked out that i'm not feeding her the right food, or too much or too little of it, that she's not drinking enough water, that something must be wrong when i come home and don't see her right away, that she must be smothered somewhere if i don't hear her purring at night. i actually called home from work yesterday so she could hear my voice on the answering machine. we got a digital camera so i could proceed to take a million and a half pictures of her.

she still bites me. i still yell at her, but we've got way more understanding than we did. i assure her that she does NOT want to drink my coffee or climb in the bathtub with me but let her meet me in the middle so she gets where i'm coming from.

and for a person who has never had a snuggly cat, the purring warmth of a kitten curled up against my neck is nothing short of about the greatest thing ever.

how lucky am i.

i wonder how many other people have things from their past that they think about often, really often, to the point where you begin to wonder how there's room for the life that's actually in front of you, all around you.... and it's the little things, a look, a smile, a mistake that you still call  as such even though it got you here and you're happy here, good advice (that maybe came from yourself...?) 

some of the best advice i ever got was when i was thirteen, fourteen maybe.  it was the first time i'd really had hard alcohol, and really the last.  camping with the girls and the boys, one boy in particular.... the one i caught eyes with at his locker every day as i left 1st period biology.  too good to be true... how... why me...?  me, really?  was he really waiting there?  his smile made me forget everything, it took me to a better place, for that few seconds, though i clutched it in my shaking giddy hand and took it with me 'til i could trade it in for the next one. 

the rest of the story is pretty fuzzy, i couldn't draw much of a chronological map of what happened now.  but at some point, on some highschool friday night, around a campfire (at the same cabin that i lost my binky blanket at...... some part of me won't let go of the hope that it's still there... somehow.... even though my friend's dad is not ), i tried to be "cool" and impress this boy by my vodka-drinking abilities.  six straight shots of the stuff (with no chaser) for a scrawny thirteen-year-old was a very bad idea.  you all can probably fill in the rest.  it involves waking up with just enough time to open the tent flap and wonder where the night went (and the boy.....?). 

so, all this leads up to the good advice.... which struck me like the moment i finally understood trigonometry (most people remember where they were when they found out JFK got shot, i remember this).  i was so frustrated and disheartened, saying to my friend, "i try so hard to make him like me."  and you know what she said to me (right before she walked away with just enough condescendence to make me pay attention)?  "don't try so hard."  yup.  some of the best advice i ever got.  i was just thinking about that.  again.

i have determined that i have a fear of commitment.  the kind that one wouldn't ordinarily think of.  the kind that can keep me from doing just about anything.  i barely listen to the cds that i own, because when it comes time to actually put one in the player i place so much importance on the that goes in that i don't listen to anything.  unless it's one of those cds, and then i just listen to it non-stop, generally afraid by that point to commit to turning it off.  i barely read the books that i have (or the books x books that my sweeie brought with him) because i can't choose one over all the other books in the world.  i barely make plans (which some of you have surely experienced first-hand) because i spend so much time and energy trying to determine if that's where i'm "supposed to be," that by the time i finally figure it out it's too late, either because it's passed, or because i've chickened out and talked myself into needed some more home/alone time. 

if i am afraid to get my feet wet (really wet, all pruny and stuff) then i will never be able to swim.  and i like swimming.  usually when i choose to do it i am always (usually) glad that i did and remind myself that i need to do it more.

remember when highschool dances came around there was that whole.... strategic scientific  method to  asking (and being asked for)  a date?  you could wait around for mr. (or ms.) right and risk not finding a date at all, or you could accept mr. not-so-right and risk then being asked by mr. right and either "suffer" through having to turn down the Perfect Evening or be a jerk and bail on the first guy. 

i didn't mean for that to be a tangent... anyway i believe that what this really comes down to is a chronic fear of time running out.  just, time.  this hour, this day, this week...yup, all the way on up.  there are so many things i want to do.  right now, yes (i've got paints, journals, music galore, means to make more of it, "the Tao of Pooh," and Office Space all within an arm's reach).  in the bigger picture, yes.  i want to publish journals, i want to publish my children's book/song and write more of them, i want to paint pictures like crazy and let them loose into the world, i want to write songs for movies.  how do i choose where to start?  how do i choose what comes first?  how do i do any of it when the day to day requires so much from me?  from all of us?  i know the only answer there is: start somewhere.  it really doesn't matter where as long as it starts.  and as for running out of time, whatever its ominous presence may mean, it's all the more reason to get in and get dirty.  and wherever that is.... damn well be there.  that place is magic.  that's the quest. 

and here i thought it was so complicated.

i'm pretty sure i'm about to pick up and read "the Tao of Pooh" cover to cover in a minute.  it's so easy to forget about things, like a book as wise and absolutely precious as this.  i came looking for my favorite pooh bear coversation of all time (actually.... i forgot about the "little black raincloud"..... see what i mean?), and it's here, as sweet as anything, waiting patiently, on page 42.

    " ......in other words, everything has its own place and function.  that applies to people, although many don't seem to realize it, stuck as they are in the wrong job, the wrong marriage, or the wrong house.  when you  know and respect your own Inner Nature, you know where you belong.  you also know where you don't belong.  one man's food is often another man's poison, and what is glamorous and exciting to some can be a dangerous trap to others.  an incident in the life of Chuang-tse can serve as an example:

     *while sitting on the banks of the P'u river, Chuang-tse was approached by     two representatives of the Prince of Ch'u, who offered him a position at the court.  Chuang-Tse watched the water flowing by as if he had not heard.  finally, he remarked, "I am told that the prince has  a sacred tortoise, over two thousand years old, which is kept in a box, wrapped in silk and brocade."  "that is true," the officials replied.  "if the tortoise had been given a choice," Chuang-Tse continued, "which do you think he would have liked better--to have been alive in the mud, or dead within the palace?"  "to have been alive in the mud, of course," the men answered.  "i too prefer the mud," said Chuang-Tse. "good-bye."*

"i like mud, too," said Pooh.
"yes...well, anyway----"
"on a hot summer day?  nothing like it," he said.
"but the point is----"
"it keeps you cool," he said.
"that's not important here, Pooh," i said.
"it's not?" he asked in a shocked sort of way.
"i mean, there are other things to be----"
"how do you know?" said Pooh.  "have you ever tried it?"
"no, but----"
"just the thing for a hot summer day," he continued, leaning back and closing his    eyes.  "down by the river, covered with mud..."
"look, Pooh----"
"mud's nice," said Piglet, walking over to the writing table and looking up at us.  "it adds color to your skin."
"can't say I ever cared for it," said Owl, flying over and perching on the lamp.  "it sticks in one's feathers.  rather disagreeable." 
"you see?" i said.  "everyone's different.  that's what we were discussing."
"i thought we were talking about mud," said Piglet.
"so did i," said Pooh.  "


.....and who knew this would have so much to do with my life right now.