95 days passed since my last post? Really?
Wordsworth wrote that the world is too much with us to bemoan how the iPhone has eclipsed our love of green grass, ducks paddling in formation, soft moonlight on our faces. Confession, I thought it was a James Bond title, until I Googled then Wiki-ed it. Confession #2: I get Wordsworth confused with Walt Whitman. So, I may mean Whitman when I say Wordsworth.
Seriously, what’s happened in the last three months is beyond any words I could offer, but I will try. My will to post has been nil until the speeches at John Lewis’s memorial service. Before that, from my safe perch, I watched weeks of coverage of George Floyd’s murder (and Breonna Taylor’s and Ahmaud Arbery’s — the list is endless), the protests, the violence inflicted by these new stormtroopers, and, more recently, a family forced onto the ground at gunpoint by police. Floyd’s suffering and that of billions over the last 400 years has always been in front of us. Racism is an atrocity that thrives every day in the U.S. You would think a country like ours–with its sickening abundance, history, and brainpower–could treat everyone with respect and kindness.
I have donated to organizations that support Black lives and am spending my time listening, reading, and sharing my appreciation of diversity every day–to support diversity itself and because it enriches my life.
There’s only been this on my mind these last few months–though also the raging virus, the upcoming election, and when I can hug my mother again. I broke my elbow, too, but this has an easy fix: Avoid tripping like a jackass over things on the sidewalk.
I hope you are all taking good care of yourselves and your loved ones. Wishing you good health and a whole lot of good writing (even if it’s bad).