I hear America singing …
It's Freya's day . . .
“Is” is not a “thing.”
Walt Whitman was born 205 years ago on this date in 1819 West Hills, Long Island, New York.
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear . . . Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day . . . – Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass.
In 1921, here in my home town, the Tulsa race massacre of 1921 began. It lasted two days and left history with the mark of one of the most severe incidents of racial violence in U.S. history. The white community kept a silent secrecy wrapped around the event for many years. The first I heard of it, I was in graduate school in 1997 when an official state government commission was created to investigate the event. Mass graves are still being searched today, as I write this note.
“Black Wall Street” then and now.
We do not celebrate “infamy.” We do memorialize it. Yesterday will be remembered as the day when a jury of equals in a Manhattan courtroom returned a unanimous verdict of “guilty” in the trial of Donald Trump for his overarching cause of 34 crimes, in the felonious attempt to defraud the voters of New York in the 2020 election.
When we resist change, it’s called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle against it, that’s called enlightenment. Another word for this is freedom—freedom from the struggle against the fundamental ambiguity of being human. – Pema Chödrön
And as synchronicity would have it, Van Morrison has announced the release of a new recording: “Be Just and Fear Not.”
Another Street
Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter 2
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend that I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in … it’s a habit … but, my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down another street.
Why history? The best reason to learn history is not to predict the future, but to free yourself of the past and imagine alternative destinies . . .People are usually afraid of change becase they fear the unknown. But the single greatest constant of history is that everything changes – Yuval Noah Harari, Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow, Harper, 2017.
If the world were only pain and logic, who would want it? – Mary Oliver, “Singapore,” The House of Light, Beacon Press,1990.
Imfamousity . . .
It's Odin's day … and ohm-chants were emerging from the mailbox this morning . . .
At 11:28 a.m. New York Time this morning, the jurors in the Manhattan trial retired (without their phones but with a court and attorneys-approved laptop containing the evidential evidence) to consider the guilt or innocence of Donald J. Trump facing 34 counts of criminal behavior.
The materialist's world is quite simple and solid, just as the madman is quite sure he is sane. – That's G.K. Chesterton. The English author , philosopher, Christian apologist, and literary and art critic was born on this day in 1874 London.
Today is also the birth date of the 35th President of The United States, John F. Kennedy. He was born 107 years ago today in 1917 Brookline, Massachusetts.
Seeing when you justify yourself and when you blame others is not a reason to criticize yourself, but actually an opportunity to recognize what all people do and how it imprisons us in a very limited perspective of this world. It’s a chance to see that you’re holding on to your interpretation of reality; it allows you to reflect that that’s all it is – nothing more, nothing less. The reality is, it's just your interpretation of reality. – Pema Chödrön, from The Wisdom of No Escape: And the Path of Loving-Kindness, Shambhala, 2018.
I gotta mow the backyard today before the rains come again. . .
Unholy terrors
It's Tew's day . . . cloudy, cooler, and, of course increasing rain chances for TuleyTown . . .
And, if you didn't know already: Final arguments in the Trump Manhattan trial begin today.
Ninety years ago today, The Dionne quintuplets were born in 1934 just outside Callander, Ontario, near the village of Corbeil. Their unique presence on the planet brought us all sobering life lessons regarding the rights of children.
Speaking of rights: Yesterday was the 117th anniversary of Rachel Carson's birth. The marine biologist, ecologist and writer of “Silent Spring” was born today in 1907, Springdale, Pennsylvania. Her writings brought us face to face with the reality that our narcissistic presumption of planetary dominion is threatening the very ecosystems in which living beings make their homes.
Big Daddy God
The most terrifying thing
beyond imagining, so do we
keep with the belief-making
in Big Daddy terror, rather than
welcoming home Her and her silence.
— jab