Hope Is a Dangerously Good Thing

 

I have been thinking about hope, particularly about the difference it makes when we have it versus when we don't. Several years ago I heard someone say that they thought hope was not a good thing, because it creates a false sense of relief from the pressures we may be facing. Illustrative of this viewpoint, Morgan Freeman's character, Otis "Red" Redding, in the 1994 movie, The Shawshank Redemption, says, "Hope is a dangerous thing, my friend, it can kill a man". Red believes that hope of escape or release can drive a man insane because it's unlikely to come true. Tim Robbins' character Andy Dufresne disagrees, saying, "Hope is a good thing, maybe even the best of things. And good things never die".

Andy has it right, I think, having experienced this for myself in the past few days. 

As has been true for many of us, the divisions that exist in our country, and even in the world at large, have been wearing me down. It seems that every day the news, no matter what outlet you choose, focuses on the most negative stories and perspectives they can find. I didn't realize that all of this negativity had such a profound affect on me until a little bit of hope broke through the rubble of negativity and I felt my spirits lift.

The sliver of hope was represented by President Biden choosing to stand aside rather than continuing to pursue another term as president. Leading up to this moment, I was discouraged by so many lawmakers, journalists and others publicly calling for him to do just this. These conversations should have happened in private, where honest discussion, weighing of ideas and sharing opinions could take place in a respectful way, without the entire world watching. 

Listening in on conversations I would rather not have been privy to, left me feeling exhausted and incredibly stressed. Add to this the violence of an assassination attempt on Trump, followed by white christian nationalists comparing him to Jesus, and claiming God had saved him so that he could in turn save America; I was traumatized and terrified. 

And I knew I had to speak up to defend the faith I hold and the God I served as pastor for more than 30 years.

The God I know, has higher standards than any small-minded human with their self-serving agenda. The God I know does not save one person's life at the cost of another's. The God I know does not place power in the hands of those who want that power for selfish reasons. The God I know has a long-standing preference for the poor. All of the things I know and love about the God I serve stand in stark contrast to the values espoused by white christian nationalists, their terrifying Project 2025, and the corrupt criminal candidate to whom they have sold their souls.

Back to that glimmer of hope I mentioned. By stepping aside for the good of the nation, for the good of democracy, President Biden has shown what it takes to be a true leader. He may have wanted to continue in the presidency for another four years, but he has placed the needs of the whole above his own personal agenda. This humble act of service is incredibly rare in this day and age. Simply stated, it gives me hope that we may actually rise out of the current maelstrom and continue this experiment in democracy. It gives me hope that every person might still be seen and heard, their rights respected and their votes counted.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson, "'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers" from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, ed., Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University press, Copyright © 1951, 1955, 1979, 1983

The Injustice of Immunity

 

The path ahead is a challenging one - no matter what "path" I contemplate these days. My everyday walks are challenging because of the extreme heat that is afflicting most of the country, including Vermont, and the fact that rain either inundates us or skips over our garden means I am often walking in dust or mud.

The path ahead for our country holds far too much of my attention. I subscribe to a national newspaper, hoping for a wide breadth of information about what is going on in the world, but most days my heart takes a dive just skimming the so-called "top stories" which are steadily normalizing a reality I do not want to acknowledge. 

Presidential immunity is just the latest scandal to rise to the top of my newsfeed. And, yes, I do consider it a scandal. I am astonished that we are just stumbling along as if this must be accepted without any pushback. Those of us who believe in this country and the system of checks and balances our founders established, want desperately to rely on them taking care of this problem. But at this point in time, the checks and balances have been dismantled. The Judicial branch of our government, meant to balance the Executive branch, is no longer free of bias, and the Legislative branch is unable to function at all thanks to the deeply entrenched desire on the part of some to oppose anything their colleagues on the other side of the aisle propose.

The dismantling of justice and, honestly, of reality itself, is insidious work. In this country it began quite some time ago. When I comment to equally-frustrated friends that Barack Obama should have appointed a Supreme Court justice in March of 2016, but was blocked by an obstructionist Republican Senate, others with a deeper understanding of history tell me the unravelling started long before that happened in 2016.

I am not equipped to go into the long and painful history of our country's unravelling, and of the root causes of the dissociative state we find ourselves in with regard to reality. But what I will say is that we cannot stand by and just watch this play out. We need to speak up wherever and whenever we can, adding our voices to those who are willing to say we have lost our way as a country and as a people. 

We need to teach our children and our politicians that there IS such a thing as "truth", and that truth is universal. Truth cannot be tamed or manipulated. We as a country need to find our way back to the honest truth - of what is just and fair, as well as the truth of what simply IS. 

Jesus said "the truth will set you free". Personally, I would like to be free again, and this is my wish for all of us. The irony is, that while you and I feel less and less free, a convicted criminal is not only running free, but he is running for president. Until this great injustice is corrected, until everyone stands back on equal footing in this "land of the free and home of the brave", none of us is truly free.

Capturing the Scent of Well-Being

I am a part of a writing group that receives prompts each month from the librarian on Monhegan Island, a place that I return to twice yearly, and find soothing to my sense of well-being. In June, Mia asked us to send scents to each other. Most of us, despite good intentions, did not manage to do this.

 But the idea of the prompt took hold of me, and while I was sitting in Gull Cove, one of my favorite places on the island, I was inspired to write about a scent that pursues me, and that I, in turn, pursue. I was nestled in a crevice in the great rocks that overlook the ocean there, comfortably supported by the warm rock, cooled by the wind, and energized by the nearby crashing waves.

It is subtle here - not as pronounced as I have experienced its cousins in other places. You have to breathe deeply, and it only comes to you at the very tail end of your breath - a small tease inviting you to try again to more fully capture its essence. 

But each breath can only do so much, can only bring in air until your lungs are full, then, no more. And no matter how deep, no matter how prolonged and drawn out, no matter how fast or painstakingly slow, each breath can only offer that almost imperceptible jewel - the elusively subtle sea-salt air that is particular to Monhegan. 

It is so different from the scents of Cape Cod that hit as you drive over the Sagamore, or the boisterous boardwalk-infused sea air of the Jersey Shore or even of Florida’s sun-baked beaches. Monhegan’s sea air is more retiring, unwilling to flaunt itself, and in its rarity, all the more precious. 

Wishing I could capture it on a cotton ball or in a paper cup, or send it to myself in an envelope marked “Special Delivery”, I take another breath, in the hopes that I might be able call this scent to mind when I return home.

Blind Justice

Lady Justice is depicted as being blindfolded, whenever she appears. This signifies that in the eyes of justice, everyone is treated equally. No one is more important than anyone else. No one's rights supersede anyone else's. This is even stated in the Declaration of Independence: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men (sic) are created equal,..." 

So, I am confused hearing that the Supreme Court of the United States is deliberating about whether the president is equal to everyone else, or if he or she is exempt from justice. How is it even possible that we are contemplating this? Why would we want our elected leader to be free from the laws that all of the rest of us are responsible to live up to? What is the benefit in this? It seems to me that this is a short step away from said elected leader declaring him or herself president for life rather than succumbing to elections when their term was up. (Which we already had a brush with, if you remember!)

It seems to me that we would want a president who was a role model; someone who leads the way in showing people how to live responsibly, honestly and upholding the laws of the land. I cannot get my head around the possibility that any honest person would want to put themselves above the law. To me, a leader should be one of the staunchest supporters of the laws of justice. At the very least, being a leader should mean doing one's absolute best to consider the needs of the whole nation above their own personal desires and whims. 

If a person thinks they are above the rules that govern everyone else, then their life has no moral center. If someone does not have a plumb line by which to judge when they are on course and when they are off, then that person could end up pretty far off course very quickly. And if that person was the president, then when this happened they take the entire country with them. Consider the problems this would create!

If the Supreme Court decides that the president is above the law, then Lady Justice may no longer be blindfolded, but her hands will be tied. Nothing good can come of this, and it horrifies me to know that people who are supposed to guard the integrity of our country do not see this as a terrible violation of one of the very principles they should be upholding. 

Not Knowing

 

I have a very hard time dealing with uncertainty. It is difficult for me to relax into a moment when I do not know what is coming next. I like to plan ahead as much as I can, so that I can count on accomplishing the things I set out to do in a given time frame. This morning I even did a meditation that focused on helping me be more present in this particular moment, and not falling back on the habit of always thinking ahead to my next step. 

I should have known that the Universe would set out to solidify this learning experience. 

There is work going on at the condo in which Gary and I are living at the moment. We have been dealing with obnoxious sounds of drills and the toxic fumes of paints and solvents for the past few months. But now the ante has been upped. Today, or tomorrow, the painters will start sealing and then refinishing the walkways outside our door. Once they begin, we will not be able to leave or come back to the apartment between 8:30am and 3:30pm. This will be true for the full three days that it takes to complete the process. 

Did you catch that I said "today or tomorrow"? That's because the process depends on the weather, and it might rain today, so the site supervisor has to decide whether to start today or wait until tomorrow. 

Those of us who live on this floor are having a hard time with the uncertainty of it. One neighbor had a delivery of sheet rock scheduled which they had to cancel, and may have to wait to have delivered after the flooring material has fully set - at least a week from now. Another neighbor has an appointment for her drapes to be cleaned at 11. She is waiting to see if they start the walkway or not before she cancels. I am waiting too. I finally found a new home for an old sofa we have, and the thrift shop folks are coming to get it at 1pm today... or not.

Gary and I plan to leave Florida for our trip back to Vermont on Wednesday, but we may not be able to roll heavy things on the new floor by then if it rains today and the workmen don't start working on the walkways until tomorrow. Oh, and there is also a new futon we are supposed to pick up and bring into the apartment on Tuesday, which may or may not be too heavy to roll over the new and still curing floors.

Suffice it to say that there is a whole lot of uncertainty in the air here. As a result, I have the golden opportunity to really work my meditation practice hard as I attempt to be present with what is rather than worrying about all of the possibilities that might be. I don't feel up to the task, but I actually don't have a choice, so here I am, waiting, and breathing as slowly and steadily as I can manage.

Make Way for Ducklings

 

I counted the ducklings again this morning. Despite the possibility of heart-plummeting disappointment, I can't help myself. Every time the Muscovy mother duck wanders into view I stop whatever I am doing and count the ducklings as they scurry to catch up to their mama. Although their mama is not what I could call conventionally attractive, the ducklings sure are, with their brown and yellow markings and fluff ball looks. 

When they hatched a few weeks ago there were thirteen adorable little ones. This morning there are ten. Their numbers have been holding strong at ten for several days now, which I count as a good omen. Last year, their numbers went from a solid dozen down to two remaining ducklings by the time they were ready to go off on their own. They do live in the wilds of this suburban environment where birds of prey and unwitting humans also roam. This morning I saw them in the lawn near the lagoon, but other days I have seen them basking in a puddle in the middle of our parking lot - a far less safe place for them to wash up.

My friend and I saw them searching for tasty morsels amidst the foliage surrounding the pool a few weeks ago, and while we thought they were pretty darn cute, I have overheard other folks comment on their presence in far less complimentary ways. One evening a duckling fell into the pool and had to be rescued by a by-passer with the pool's skimming net. Suffice it to say that it makes me nervous when the ducklings so blatantly avail themselves of the condo features meant for human enjoyment.

A few years ago a wildlife specialist was hired to capture the whole bunch, mama and ducklings, in order to relocate them further from human habitation, but that ploy obviously did not have a lasting effect. And this year, no one seems to be making noises to do the same, or perhaps I am just not privy to those conversations.

These ducklings are such a sign of the season, a sign of Spring and a sign of hope. Easter cards and decorations celebrate their hopeful cuteness. It breaks my heart a little, when my headcount shows that another duckling is missing, but I can't seem to stop myself. I feel like I am one of their protectors, somehow. When I count them, I send blessings to them, along with prayers that they make their way safely through another round of the sun. It is the least I can do, in gratitude for their presence, for their perseverance in the face of the enormous odds stacked against them in this environment that is becoming increasingly inhospitable to all forms of life. Their perseverance, their presence, is just the sign of hope I was looking for today.

Beach Cleaning as a Heart Practice

MacArthur State Park is one of our favorite beaches to spend time at while we are in Florida. There is an estuary to explore in kayaks, where we see all kinds of birds flying overhead or hidden in the mangroves around the shoreline. There is a boardwalk across the estuary, and finally, an expansive sandy beach where we can sit or walk for hours undisturbed. 

Storms can alter the shape and scale of beaches overnight, and one day we were shocked to see MacArthur Beach littered with all kinds of debris thanks to an overnight storm. The wind was still blowing when my daughters and I walked down to take a closer look. We saw the remains of someone's freshly built dock - the wooden planks and stairs, although scattered many feet apart, were still raw and freshly treated. A small boat, mostly made of foam and plastic, lay half buried in the sand. We sat for a while on a piece of lumber, and watched the crashing waves as the wind continued to blow strong and steady.

It was too windy to sit for long that day, but the next Gary and I returned and picked up a bucket and trash grabber that were stacked near the entrance to the beach. Walking up the beach that day we each collected a bucket full of plastic bottle caps, bags and fragments well on their way to becoming microplastics that cause so much harm in the worlds oceans. There were ropes and sharp bits of glass and wood, as well as a syringe that definitely gave me pause, walking barefoot as I usually do when I am there.

Since that day, when we go to the beach I often grab a bucket and add litter pick up to my relaxing beach walks. This practice helps me to feel that I am contributing in a positive way to keeping the environment I care about in better shape. It also slows me down. 

I am a person who has spent most of her life hurrying from one place or activity to another, taking very little time to reflect or pause between. How ironic that something that feeds into my need to keep myself occupied and feeling like I am accomplishing something worthwhile is also teaching me about the value of its opposite! It is important to learn how to simply BE, how to slow down to the speed of life. I know this intellectually, but find it difficult to actually practice it. Now, thanks to my desire to contribute by picking up litter, I am reaping the benefit of actually taking time to notice my surroundings, down to the smallest fragment of plastic or shell or seaweed or stone.

The discernment process of determining the difference between trash and treasure is serving me well as I allow myself the time to discern what is next in my life. I am not very patient, least of all with myself, but this is helping, and it enables me to do some good while I wait.