Mike and I rode our bikes to the Flagstaff No Kings protest last Saturday.* The event was uplifting and well-attended (reportedly the biggest protest in Flagstaff's history) with about 4000 people crowding the city hall lawn and standing up and down Route 66 and Humphreys Avenue. We saw lots of great signs and American flags held by patriots of all ages exercising their First Amendment rights. The musicians at the center of the event made it seem like a party; we were there to celebrate democracy, freedom of expression, empathy, and our common humanity.
For a while now, I've been having difficulty concentrating on brain work. I'm better off most days doing physical chores and projects – hauling plants, digging holes, dusting and vacuuming, finishing small sewing projects – so my brain can process what's happening in the rest of the world while I move my body and my hands.** This work gives me some comfort: I'm controlling what I can control. And (bonus!), the house is cleaner than it’s been in a while.
Of course, I'm still making calls, writing letters (sometimes diatribes) to my utterly unresponsive Congressional representative (and deeply grateful for Arizona Senator Mark Kelly and Senator Reuben Gallego for keeping up the good fight), staying current with developments in the news, and taking breaks when necessary. It never feels like I’m doing enough, but it's better than complete inaction. I fear for our future, and look for ways to combat the lies and mean-spiritedness currently driving so much policy these days.
Happy Juneteenth!
This explainer from Heather Cox Richardson about our federal holiday celebrating the end of slavery (most of which I did not know) is really informative. If you don’t get missives from Heather Cox Richardson, I highly recommend her thoughtful analysis rooted in her deep knowledge of American history.
This morning I walked to a café while listening to a 2020 Cheryl Strayed interview with Joy Harjo who was the U.S. Poet Laureate at the time. Harjo read her poem, I Give You Back. Even though the interview took place in early in the Covid pandemic, it's a good mantra for dealing with fear in these current, awful times:
I release you, my beautiful and terrible
fear. I release you. You were my beloved
and hated twin, but now, I don’t know you
as myself. I release you with all the
pain I would know at the death of
my children.
You are not my blood anymore.
To hear Harjo read/sing her full poem, visit this link.
Release your fear, if you can, and take care of yourself and your beloveds.
