Some random musings . . .
Awakened before dawn by my hungry cat, I set up my morning practice: a pot of tea, a lit candle, my notebook to write my Morning Pages in, a few books I’m studying (“Silence: The Power of Quiet in a World Full of Noise” by Zen Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh; “Zen and the Art of Dealing with Difficult People: How to Learn From Your Troublesome Buddhas” by British Zen Buddhist Mark Westmoquette, which, in aha moments, has painfully revealed to me that I am my own Troublesome Buddha).
Where to begin in this post-election era, these tender days? Early in the morning after the election, a piece by Carlos Lozada in the New York Times said it all for me: “Stop Pretending Trump Is Not Who We Are.” I agreed with it; you may not. Mere hours later I was standing in front of the Storyworth class I facilitate saying this was a memoir-writing class, not a political class, but I needed to address the elephant in the room: the election. The point I wanted to make was that regardless of where we are on the political spectrum, each of us will be profoundly affected by this changed America and each of us will need to have a Plan B for our sanity.
What is my Plan B? In class I put up on our huge video screen the previous blog post I wrote about my recent retreat. I knew during the retreat that this election outcome was possible so I confirmed my quality of life practices including eating well; enjoying art, color, and nature; living simply and quietly; meditating; being news-free except for reading headlines in respected news outlets; and, very importantly, continuing to support and cheer on my friends and family.
But these tender days require that we dig deeper. My generation’s fathers (and mothers) went to war in WWII and Korea so people could be free; our generation went to Viet Nam; the next generation went to Iraq and Afghanistan.
When I lived in Enugu, Nigeria in 1965-66, the military staged a coup. I would never ever have expected this to happen in my own country, the United States of America, but in 2024 that is exactly what happened right before our eyes. The American voters staged a bloodless coup in the voting booth by handing over our democracy at the federal and state level to what I consider is a freedom-robbing political movement. My opinion, but maybe not yours.
In 1989 Anne Lamott wrote a book titled “All New People”. The book wasn’t my favorite, but its title stuck with my husband and me. We’d repeat the title saying that someday we’d be gone and there would be all new people living in our homes, driving down our streets, shopping in our stores, making decisions about life at every level.
Have the new people already arrived in our consciousness and in our reality? When Trump won in 2016, I created a class at the community college in Sedona, Arizona “It Can Happen Here”. It was based on Minnesota author Sinclair Lewis’s book “It Can’t Happen Here”. He wrote it after his reporter wife had interviewed Hitler in Germany. Carlos Lozada mentions this book in his day-after-election piece in the New York Times, citing the parallels.
We thought 2016 was an aberration. It was not.
I can say that as much as I regret this changed America, something happened in my personal life that perhaps came about because of the tender days we are now living in.
My husband and I have been together for thirtysome years. We have a very good marriage: respectful, supportive, solid, loving, helpful. Yet there is a question many of us may — in our wondering-insecure moments — ask ourselves: does our spouse, our partner REALLY love us? I mean REALLY. Not just out of habit or need, but REALLY.
I now have my answer. We were sitting in our living room in the morning’s early light having our usual coffee and conversation together. Ken said: “I had a dream. I can’t remember it, but this thought came out of the dream: we should each cut a lock of our hair to be put in our urn so that, for instance, if I die first, your lock of hair would be in my urn and that way we’d be together forever.”
Question answered. I know who I am. I am loved by the most precious and the kindest person I know, my dear husband.
The sun has now arrived, my candle is burning out, the tea is running low in my teapot.
As we grow older, may we be kind to ourselves;
As we grow older, may we accept joy and sorrow;
As we grow older, may we be happy and at peace.
Copyright © 2024 by Jane Iddings
Thank you for your calming perspective. I, too, read the Carlos Lozada piece and am coming to terms with the fact that this is indeed who America is now. I’m still working on my Plan B, but I plan to focus more on my family and friends in the coming months for a start.
Thanks for sharing your experience in living in the reality we all are now forced to live in. Many of us are struggling with how to move forward. You remind us that the most important thing in our lives is the love of those closest to us.
What an awesome, thought provoking essay! It captures many of my feelings before and after this election. It is really disappointing that the majority of our country has voted in a lying, narcissistic, psychopathic, felon. I know that this is just my opinion, but that what I hear.
I so love your locks of hair being saved. How loving and beautiful this is!
Thank you so much for sharing! Dawn
Lovely post. I am in grief over the election, as well. I love the lock of hair idea – a way to be together forever. ❤️
This is a wonderful essay Jane and I love the lock of hair exchange between you and Ken. I guess the one positive outcome of the election is you get governor Walz back and he has promised to resist the worst excesses of the incoming administration.
Your title beautifully captures just how I am feeling. Thank you for the courage to share your thoughts as we enter tenuous times.
Wonderful post, Jane. I have been worried about you in the days following the election. Now I see that you have found a way to be in this new world. Sadly, the election is a commentary on our times and the people around us. I hope that our worst fears will not turn out to be manifested here.