“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
― Haruki Murakami,
I wonder how many people I’ve looked at all my life and never seen… When two people meet, each one is changed by the other so you’ve got two new people.
It snowed again last night. I was going to write something about Weathering a Montana Winter, but then I remembered that it isn’t even Winter yet and even then, it would only be my first. I have so much to learn.
Enter: John Steinbeck holding The Winter of Our Discontent. Then I did a little digging and it turns out that recommending books to read while snowed in as a quintessential must for bloggers. There are so many recommendations. Let it snow.
A riff rings in my ear. An earworm beckoning. A song in labor awaiting its due date.
There are too many subjects to consider focusing upon for this song that knocks at the door to my soul. I let the song in and we have a conversation. “Can’t you put them all together?” the riff asks.
“If only I possessed that much wisdom and patience. It would take a lifetime to learn all the lessons these atrocities teach.”
“You’re already 42. I’m not leaving.”
And the riff rings again.
Take A Moment To Thank A Veteran
When you see someone in a uniform,
Someone who serves us all,
Doing military duty,
Answering their country’s call,
Take a moment to thank them
For protecting what you hold dear;
Tell them you are proud of them;
Make it very clear.
Just tap them on the shoulder,
Give a smile, and say,
“Thanks for what you’re doing
To keep us safe in the USA!”
By Joanna Fuchs
I made the long journey from Oregon to Montana yesterday.
In Oregon, you can’t pump your own gas. In my RV, you have to open the driver’s door in order to open the gas tank. This usually means that I spend the next few minutes answering questions about mileage, my tires or my destination. Every once in a while, I get to dig into the life of the person standing in the rain who deals with people all day.
Yesterday it was a man who happens to work part-time at a gas station, happens to be black and happens to be work full-time as a fireman. He told me about a woman who threw out the comment, “You’re probably a convicted felon…” as flippant as a statement about the weather. As my face grew hot with disgust and rage and shame, I asked him how he responded.
“I told her they don’t hire convicted felons.” He turned to me and smiled as I waited for more. But clearly that was it. I raised my eyebrows and nodded with respect. “Way to rise above, ” I said.
“The ignorance just keeps growing…” he said, shaking his head. My tank was full and he had to move on to more customers whom I hoped were more kind and less ignorant than the one he described. He wished me safe travels home and I left that small town in which I was born. That small town filled with family I love and memories that warm my heart. The old phrase from college fills my head again:
Quash the ignorant with enlightenment. STAT.
Step on the moist, pillowsoft earth, walking gingerly aside a weeping steam that calls your name, for it knows how to heal a wounded heart.
– Maximillian Degenerez
There are seasons in life. Don’t ever let anyone try to deny you the joy of one season because they believe you should stay in another season… Listen to yourself. Trust your instincts. Keep your perspective.
– Jane Clayson
A faint glimmer of hope continues to grow stronger as voices unite. Let the angry hold up the sad until the sad hold up the angry. Let the strong hold up the weak until they grow strong together. Let the tentative be beckoned by the brave until a wall of indomitable force is built. Let this become the foundation of a flame that is passed on and on like the Olympic torch. Let the integrity of our souls shimmer and sparkle; intertwining to create a light so luminous it can’t be ignored.
for this fight.
The view from a globe rather than a scope
The day after. So many lives lost. So many emotions. Our hearts hurt for this tiny town in Texas, just as they hurt for the other towns and cities before. Our minds reel with questions. Our souls seek solutions. Stricter gun control may not be the panacea, but a dialogue repeatedly swept under the rug incessantly reappears. As our negligence grows, so does the problem. And here we kneel in tragic crisis. The hands wrapped around our heads to protect us block out the sound and expose our hearts.
I see you, white man, with your impetuous finger on the trigger.