Navigating a Nightmare in a Connected Cosmos

I’m watching the election returns, seeing my friends’ Facebook feeds registering fear, horror, anger as each new bit of news shows 14963156_10154003827395592_8791516528117946790_nup. Fighting the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, madly tracing Reiki symbols in the air and sending energy, then turning back to the spiraling disaster.

What happened???? Yes, the polls were all over the map, and when I went to Standing Rock the Midwest was a sea of Trump signs….but how could anyone seriously vote for this racist rapist….we all know the epithets he’s earned.

What To Do During the 11th Hour

I’ve been circling around this topic for months?…years?….decades?…and finally I think it’s time to square my shoulders and confront it, crazy and apocalyptic as it may sound.
The topic is…well, The Big One. The big earthquake, financial crash, climate-change climax, the perfect catastrophic convergence of all the razors’ edges we’ve been walking as a planetary society. The Big One, or cascade of Big Ones, that nobody wants to talk about, that we are excising from our consciousness like Florida Governor Rick Scott excising the words and concept of “climate change” from state policy.

Midpoint: Winter to Spring

Decompressing after a long day of passionate work, promoting a client’s upcoming seminar series, I stumble on an article and video and step through a window in time…

Twenty-eight years ago I was singing these songs in a living-room folk band with the man I would later marry. Today, seven years and a few weeks after his death, I listen to these songs as I have so many times before, and remember exactly the feel and taste and smell of those days…the feeling of being young, newly on my own, intoxicated with freedom and love and music and art and a liberated, bohemian lifestyle after a so-conservative childhood.

Not for the Fearful

On my parents’ refrigerator in my childhood home, there is a magnet: “Old Age is Not for the Fearful.” For me it spoke to my mother’s years of survival despite the faltering of her heart,  my father’s stalwart volunteering in the blistering engine room of a WWII Liberty Ship…the unflinching ways in which they remained  vital well into their 80s.

As I pass the half-century mark, witnessing ever more alarming headlines in the news, navigating stormy economic seas as a solopreneur while contemplating the depths of a profound, evolving career change, I am seeing new levels of meaning in that simple magnet.

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