Spring arrived with great resolve and left us without a view of that fantastic full moon that was a not-to-miss. Nor was I supposed to miss the Spark & Cinder 35th Anniversary but I did. I didn't miss this Moby Dick white whale of a sycamore breaching above One Mile today, its barnacles acorn woodpecker caches.
I was there because I also missed Dance Church, an opportunity I was going to try because Michael is away and I missed the Hallelujah dancing last night. As if by synchrony I met up again with Blackbird and Einstein, who I'd met the week previously up at Child's Meadows. They are a human-goose team who bonded and now I carry concern for-- beautiful fragile beings wandering on the edge of the storms.
Always I've had hope we could turn things around. When we were fresh with the Green Party we met here twenty some years ago. Now I wonder what can work and who it will be who creates the revival. Believe it or not, I wrote to Ralph Nader and asked him if he knew of anyone else who was honest and incorruptible to assist toward the presidency. I mused on where the energy goes and what gets in the way of movement building as I wandered through the dripping spring renaissance, in love with the water, thinking about the tsunami and the snow pack and Michael in the mountains...
Yesterday was the Anniversary of the Iraq War. A hardy and dear cohort of caring people created a small Peace Uprising and I'm sitting here sorting postcards to send to Washington and Quantico, the new Guantanamo. The young veteran speaking here touched my heart with a war story too painful to recount. How he told it reinforced my resolve. Most people care but don't think they can do anything. I care and can't care that what I do might not do anything... I'll disintegrate like those earthworms on the pavement today if I don't try but I'm ready for our Egypt or our Wisconsin... I want the voices of the people strong around me. One person said, why do we let the 1% push around the other 99% of us? Why? Another truthful voice on the radio, just a fleeting bit of truth.... the translator started to cry because the young man she interpreted for had made a statement about how we must get rid of all nuclear reactors and weapons. Yes, we knew that.
At the root of everything is money. Libya=money. I went into the peace rally against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and came out and we were at war with Libya.... one more crazy dictator we supported and now want out.
This disequilibrium with so much coming at us at once is not the way of nature... no rests between cataclysms, no harmony, interconnections not for symbiosis but for greed.
Still spring continues to provide its tidal magnificence. Now it is cold and wet but soon it will peel back and explode with green. Everything in its time and I guess it's just my job to be in the flow.
Gracias a la Vida.