Holding in the Light

After the election, life goes on.

In the words of ee cummings, “The single secret will still be man.” I have faith in those people who see the need for all of us to sit at the table. It is my responsibility as a human being to help support those who need it to the best of my ability. This has not changed, but maybe I see the need more acutely because people around me are scared and hurting.

I have gone back to a practice I lost along the way when I became complacent, and that is holding people in the Light. It is a Quaker practice, and I am a Quaker (an agnostic, but that’s possible in the Religious Society of Friends). I am holding my country in the light, those who oppose what I stand for as well as those I stand with. (I stand with those who are marginalized). Because holding someone in the Light does not mean they will prosper, it means the hope that they will see the Light.

I don’t know if I believe in God, but I believe that my holding in the Light creates changes in me so I can see where to work for good. I don’t know if I believe it will move other people. Yet I do it, not knowing what else to do.

Election Day

I just voted. Now to pray … and I’m not even religious.

Writing in a Perilous Time

It’s an edgy time in the US, especially if you are part of the population that doesn’t want Trump to win. I don’t want Trump to win. The news is discouraging to Democrats, and many are urging Biden to drop out of the race, which would be a big setback for the Democratic Party — but so might staying in.

I can’t predict what will happen, but I can get anxious. And I am anxious about the political landscape. The United States usually muddles along even in bad times. I’m not sure how well we will muddle now.

How do I deal with my anxiety? I write a novel about the future economic and social collapse of the United States. That’s the book I’ve been working on, Carrying Light. Writing it has been a cathartic downer, to be honest. The collective Barn Swallows’ Dance has been holed up listening to the signs of a cataclysm from the radio as the tensions of their community boil over. They witness what happens when various factions pour gasoline on a million small fires.

Meanwhile, Barn Swallows’ Dance is facing their own crisis. They cannot be self-sufficient in an era of shipping disruptions and food shortages. They depend largely on purchases of wheat and legumes to feed the 65-person collective. To make things worse, their population is aging, and they have not found people to replace members lost by attrition. Because of their secrets, they cannot afford to let people in who cannot handle the world of Barn Swallows’ Dance. Only people who can accept preternatural members, a sentient garden, strange gifts among the populace, and a true story about the end of humanity can be trusted.

It’s a hell of a time to write this novel, which answers a question of “how bad can it get?” It can get much worse than at the moment, and my collective has to get through the darkness and out the other side. Writing this has not been an escape, but a weight upon my shoulders that never lets up.

Now that the main writing is done, I will look this over one more time and put it in a drawer to settle. And I will not write another book this heavy anytime soon.

The Best I Can Right Now

Note on caption — I have not had COVID yet, so much of this diagram is not in play. But the lockdown and psychosocial stress is real. Also, WHAT DOES THIS DIAGRAM EVEN MEAN?!

I’m really sorry I haven’t been talking to you for a while. I’m in a rough place right now, and I don’t want it to get rougher, so I’m focusing on what’s necessary until my brain can catch up with what’s extra.

This is a part of my life. My moods can go smoothly until I hit a patch of extreme stress (COVID rates rising plus the presidential election and its batshit crazy aftermath) and then my sleep goes off, my mind is a fog, and my emotions are all over the place.

It takes me a bit to recover. Usually I manage it without a tweak to my medication, and usually I don’t go into the hospital to manage it. I know what to do to keep myself functional — go to work even if my mind doesn’t think it can, get the important things done, go home to rest. Make sure I’m not avoiding emails. Take bubble baths, do cognitive exercises, not fault myself for not promoting the book.

I will get through this. I always have. But if you’re not seeing as much from me as you have, understand that I am doing the best I can.

Thoughts on the election from a disillusioned American.

I haven’t written in a few days. As the world knows at this point, Biden is projected to win the election, which is to say that there are dribbles of votes to be counted which look like they’re going to be predominantly toward Biden. Yet I don’t feel hope.

There is an ugliness in this country. We saw it when Obama won the election, and we see it now that Trump has lost. For that matter, we saw it when Trump won. A leering mass of exhibitionistic radicalism calling itself conservatism.

It doesn’t seem that radical to me to believe that people of color should not have to face institutionalized racism, and that structures built to favor whites should favor no race in particular. It doesn’t seem that radical to me that all people be allowed dignity.

I don’t see European countries as hopeless hotbeds of Marxist-style communism. I consider them, and us, to be the center: noone should starve. The homeless should be homed. Noone should die of an illness that could easily be treated. If the poor had options to gaming the system, they would likely take them.

There’s a 2% or so of people who would game the system, but we see them at the highest echelons of the social class scale as well, and we allow the richest their plunder as if it were admirable.

I don’t know if I believe in the inherent greatness of the US anymore. The spew of obscenities spilling from the mouths of the most virulent MAGAs does not mark a great country.

I can’t believe I haven’t written in a couple days. It’s been terribly busy:

My virtual book signing party went off very well on Sunday, despite my jitters. About seven people showed up, but that was a fine number to interact with and about the number I expected to show up if I went live.
I started NaNoWriMo, and I’m struggling because I haven’t written a book for a while, trying instead to edit what I already have. It’s time to write, and this book is going slow.
It’s been a bit of a challenge to find time to write because of the fact that it’s a crucial project time for my students.

In addition, I have a sense of existential dread over the (US) elections. I’m not by any means alone.

So I’ll do my writing to the best of my ability over the next several days, meditate, take deep breaths, teach my classes, and pray for the best and most compassionate outcome.

Praying for a Change in Our Government

Less than a month before the US presidential elections, and I am praying.

I am a pretty sanguine person for the most part. I generally don’t threaten to leave the country if my candidate doesn’t win. I believe that the US cycles between Democrat and Republican naturally and that we slowly make progress.

That was, until this last election. I knew Trump was going to be bad by his campaign, which ridiculed, scapegoated, and threatened anyone he didn’t perceive as his base. His strategy worked — although Hillary won the popular vote, Trump won the electoral vote.*

Trump has been worse for the country than even I imagined. Eroding world regard for the US, making policy decisions out of spite or self-interest, the naked and self-aggrandizing emperor parades across the golf course of his reign. He courts the extreme right while denigrating those who have served in the military, and instead of decorum he rants on social media. The stock market explodes in volatility as he makes erratic decisions. His view of the country veers ever closer to fascism, with him as the ruler for life.

I don’t want him to have four more years. I want to see my country recover and prosper. I want the white supremacy to be driven like cockroaches into dark corners where they’ll starve. I want us to become equals to Europe instead of the laughing stock we’ve become.

And so I pray, and I cry for what this country has become.

*For those of you living in true or representative democracies, the electoral vote is an arcane peculiarity of the US. For those of you in the US, the electoral vote is an arcane peculiarity of the US.