We Who Love Mother Earth

 

 “When you vote, whether you’re a Republican or Democrat, vote with climate in your heart. Vote for the candidate that will help create a livable future for your children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. Because the other guy’s going to burn us down.”—Jane Fonda

 

(Trump pursued an anti-environment agenda during his presidency and has on multiple occasions flown in the face of scientists worldwide with his dismissals of climate change as “bullshit” and a Chinese hoax.)

 

"We aren’t marrying them.” (The candidates), Fonda went on to say, “We aren’t making out with them. You might not agree with all they say, they’re human, but we can’t take four more years of not addressing Climate Change. We don’t have the time.”

 

I watched the Presidential Debate between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump and felt totally beat up. My daughter says she hasn’t recovered yet. It was like mixing oil and water. It was not something you could cheer for, like an athletic event, that makes you feel elated should your side win. It was fear on one side. Hope and encouragement on the other.

It jammed our nervous systems.

This is the first time in my life as a voter I have felt that Democracy was at stake. Even with differences, we thought that the President would uphold The Constitution.—he vowed with his hand on the Bible to do that. (Yes, there were underhanded tactics, and even now there are fractions ready to overthrow the will of the people if the voting doesn’t go their way.)

I  understand that some voters do not know Harris well, she’s the new kid on the block, but we know Trump. He’s been yammering for the past eight years–longer, really. Yes, he started as a buffoon, as interesting, someone who was going to shake things up, make a difference, but then we got to know him better. We got to see that he is a cheat, a misogynist, a rapist, an abuser, a crook, and who apparently believes his own lies. That he likes Hannibal Lecter (a fictitious serial killer who ate people) makes me nauseous. He has praised tyrants and wants revenge on anyone who has opposed him.

Who wants that sort of fellow in the White House? What a legacy for our kids.

We have slinked around long enough under the bullying spell of Trump.

Let’s write a legacy that says, “It was close, but our folks fought for freedom, they did it for us. They refused to allow a dictator to become the Commander and Chief of our country.’

Time for us to pull ourselves up by our hiking book laces and show who’s the boss.

Okay, women—we can do it. Be the mother bear. (We love kids whether we gave birth to them or not.)

A  mother bear will stand up to a male Grizzley twice her size.

 

Vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz

 

Linda Ronstadt’s P.S. to J.D. Vance:
 
I raised two adopted children in Tucson as a single mom. They are both grown and living in their own houses. I live with a cat. Am I half a childless cat lady because I’m unmarried and didn’t give birth to my kids? Call me what you want, but this cat lady will be voting proudly in November for @kamalaharris and @timwalz .

 

A story from one of my blog readers:

So it's winter in La Pine, snow on the ground, I'm headed up to Diamond Peaks to work on that Big Spiral Staircase (see my photo album on FB).  I stop at Ray's grocery to buy a sandwich and a soda.  I'm in line 1 of 3. There are about 15 people in the 3 lines all murmuring softly.  A little old grey haired lady is behind me when I say softly, "Oh nuts,  I wanted diet soda, not regular".  She says, "Well, I'll save your place if you run back quickly and get what you want.  Oh thanks says I...and do that very thing.  We move up a couple of spaces and she says, "What do you think of President Trump?"  I'm just entering the check stand and I grin and say in my deep baritone voice, "I realize where I am (La Pine grocery store...very red-neck country), "I am a Flaming Progressive Democrat.  I'm so liberal I give money to A.O.C every month.  (but do so with a huge grin on my face.)  Dead quiet in the store.  And she says....after a long pause...looking up at me...  "Well I'm sure you're a fine young man, anyway."  We all smile... I thank her ....and head our respective ways.

Life gives us opportunities and laughs at us, too.

 

 

43

What on Earth Have I Done?

 

For *Robert Fulghum, it began the morning he heard a mother yelling at her son from beyond the solid fence that separated him from the schoolyard. "What on earth have you done?!" came a woman's voice, followed by a "Naannggnnhhh!" 

Of course, a plethora of images flashed through Fulghum's mind. What had the kid done? Did he carve his initials in the back seat of his mother's car? Did he throw up all over the back seat?

And then he began thinking of the questions his mother used to ask. 

"What on earth have you done?"

"What in the name of God are you doing?"

"What will you think of next?"

Fulghrum extrapolated. These are the Universal questions, the same questions we ask ourselves.

"What have I done? What in the name of God am I doing? What will I think of next?

I once read a story about a wolf mother being pounced on by her pups. They chewed her tail and ears and wrestled—a mass of puppies all over her body. Finally, she stood up and let out a great howl.

The cavalry came bounding over the hill in the form of a bachelor male. He was like an uncle. He took on the kids, wrestled them, and chased them until they dropped in exhaustion and all napped.

How did it happen that humans aren’t as smart as wolves, or horses as we will see below. How did it happen that men, raised by females, grew up to abuse them? Didn't those men have girlfriends, wives, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, or girls they liked? Did women drop the ball? Did those mothers have a chance with those boys? Women were often suppressed, downtrodden, beaten up, and sometimes killed for expressing their natural intuition. It's been a long, steady climb for women to pull themselves up from the ribbons of their satin slippers, or no slippers. And in many cultures, the mothers had to turn over their sons to be taught by men who believed power made right.

Monty Roberts, "The Horse Whisperer," when he finds a mistreated horse, says, "Someone should apologize to this horse." Abused women often find solace in Robert's presentations with horses. In his book, The Man Who Listens to Horses, Roberts tells of watching a wild mare deal with an errant foal. She was obviously older, with a big belly indicating many foals. And she was the Matriarch of the herd. (Stallions aren't the day-to-day bosses; they are the protectors, the sentinels, and the studs.) 

Roberts watched as this kid foal went around harassing the younger horses. When he took a bite out of the backside of a young filly, the matriarch mare sidled up to him and kicked him to the ground. When he scrambled up, she kicked him down again. Finally, she let him up but pushed him out of the herd. Horses have body language that tells another horse to stay away and another body language to say it's okay. She pushed him out every time that little bully tried to return to the herd. 

For a horse, being ostracized is the worst punishment. A wild horse alone is lion fodder. Finally, the Matriarch tested him by letting him back into the herd; when he behaved, she gave him plenty of rewards, scratching with her teeth, his back and neck, and withers. This was heaven.

That foal became so sweet he began wandering around, asking, "Do you need any grooming?"

*You may remember Robert Fulghum's poem, which gave him prominence in the United States. All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten(1988). The book, named after the poem, is a collection of essays that stayed on The New York Times bestseller list for nearly two years.

 Find a little sweetness and pass it on.

 

 

The future never comes because when it's here, it's today. 

 

Today is fresh, new, beautiful. I want to believe it's a fresh start. Since I'm writing this, I can say whatever I want. If you want to listen to me, come on in, it's a great day to be alive.

 

About aging, what can I say? I got so excited when I began reading Christiane Northrup's book, Goddesses Don't Age, and thought, Wow, we need this. We need women encouraging each other to be strong,  not to accept standard views, to stay ageless."

 

We can't really be ageless; the body goes on with its changes, but our attitudes affect that, and our attitudes can be ageless. We can stop saying things such as "At my age." We can stop giving our age entirely.

 

When someone asked my mother-in-law her age, she would say, " I forgive you for asking that personal question." I thought I was following her example, but a doctor's office is different, isn't it?

 

Once, I gave my age to my Naturopath. I figured she knew anyway, but she either hadn't done the math or  looked at the number. I don't know why I gave away that information, except we were talking about my recent birthday. 

 

She whipped out a Polst page--I didn't know what that was, but I soon learned that it is an advance directive of what I want if a medical team finds me unconscious, or not able to speak for myself.  (It stands for Provider Orders for Sustaining Treatment)  I was totally insulted. 

 

A Polst is a good idea, but at that moment I knew that she saw me differently. Before, we were contemporaries, but now I'm older. See, people, even doctors, judge you by your age.

So, people, men and women, we need to stick together. We need to encourage each other to live in an aura of agelessness. 

 

That's my desire. 

 

I posted this on my other site today--that is Goddesses 50 and Beyond. I thought I would offer a little preview.

https://goddesses50andbeyond.blogspot.com