This is a season for hope.
Let cynicism to slip back into its shadows.
Soon enough comes the call for critique.
This is a moment for optimism.
This is a day for believing in America’s beautiful experiment.
We may even indulge ourselves in a glimpse of the nobility of our politics.
This is an hour for the resurrection of ideals.
Civic duty and public service must come back into style.
Enthusiasm could perhaps trump irony.
Dedication might peradventure become chic.
Sacrifice may yet emerge as the new sexy.
This is a new century – this is a new millennium.
We might chance a loosening of ideology’s chains.
If only provisionally, let’s risk un-demonizing our fellow citizens.
Now is a good time to explore a renewed union – a new united state of being.
11/06/2008
10/24/2008
V O T E !
The only wasted vote is the one that isn’t cast
Vote your heart
Vote your conscience
Vote your imagination
9/11/2008
7 years later
In September of 2001, my morning routine was to listen to KIRO while making coffee and school lunches. It was the year the Mariners would end up with an all-time record tying 216 wins. KIRO was their home station then, so the coverage was solid.
But that morning, there wasn’t much talk of the Mariners. Initially, it sounded like a nut in a Cessna had made a fatal misjudgment. The radio voices sounded cheerfully newsy, as per usual – curious for more details but unconcerned. Moment by moment, their tone changed until I heard their grim and deliberate report that we were apparently under terrorist attack.
The kids got off to school. I turned on the television to augment the radio. I tried to accept the truth of what I was seeing at the same time that I desperately tried to find a way of not believing it. Loss, fear, and sadness swirled together with pride in my country’s sudden heroes.
I would lose my appetite for the next few weeks. And I would sleep as much as I could get away with. Waking up each time to the sickening realization that it had all actually happened was horrible, but the hours of escape into slumber were worth it.
I became almost obsessed with the Lord’s Prayer. I repeated it over and over again, submerging my soul into each phrase. It was deeply comforting, but it also felt proactive. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more palpable sense that my praying was connecting with an immediate, enormous action of God. I try to steer clear of statements that sound so overblown, but there it is – that’s the way it felt. I doubt I was alone in that feeling.
Our Father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil
For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever
Amen
But that morning, there wasn’t much talk of the Mariners. Initially, it sounded like a nut in a Cessna had made a fatal misjudgment. The radio voices sounded cheerfully newsy, as per usual – curious for more details but unconcerned. Moment by moment, their tone changed until I heard their grim and deliberate report that we were apparently under terrorist attack.
The kids got off to school. I turned on the television to augment the radio. I tried to accept the truth of what I was seeing at the same time that I desperately tried to find a way of not believing it. Loss, fear, and sadness swirled together with pride in my country’s sudden heroes.
I would lose my appetite for the next few weeks. And I would sleep as much as I could get away with. Waking up each time to the sickening realization that it had all actually happened was horrible, but the hours of escape into slumber were worth it.
I became almost obsessed with the Lord’s Prayer. I repeated it over and over again, submerging my soul into each phrase. It was deeply comforting, but it also felt proactive. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more palpable sense that my praying was connecting with an immediate, enormous action of God. I try to steer clear of statements that sound so overblown, but there it is – that’s the way it felt. I doubt I was alone in that feeling.
Our Father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil
For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever
Amen
9/08/2008
wound
for her
morning is a wound
opening
never knitting
never dryly painfree
always the risk of infection
morning is a wound
opening
never knitting
never dryly painfree
always the risk of infection
9/03/2008
8/06/2008
8/04/2008
Joe's Island Music
Rob & Rachel Mattern have created a music store that’s as hospitable as it is well-stocked. This is a rare combination and would be worth a ferry ride on its own merits. But Langley has gathered an amazingly high concentration of coolness within its tiny jurisdiction: great food (from perfect pizza to enlightened raw foods to fine dining to ice-cream cones…), quality fashion, bookstores, thrift store, cinema, lodging, jewelry, and excellent coffee… all easily walkable. Did I mention the waterfront?
Back to Joe’s Island Music. Rob welcomed me like a favorite cousin and invited me to try his best guitars and amps – and, trust me, they have great gear. He was generous with his time – he never rushed me or brushed me aside (even though I wandered into his shop three or four times while we vacationed on Whidbey). He was helpful with information about the equipment, but also left me alone when it was time for me to concentrate on playing.
I don’t know how they’re pulling it off. From my perspective, it’s worth the hard work and tough choices. It's clear that Rob & Rachel love Joe’s Island Music, and that makes it a very appealing place. I’ll definitely be back.
Back to Joe’s Island Music. Rob welcomed me like a favorite cousin and invited me to try his best guitars and amps – and, trust me, they have great gear. He was generous with his time – he never rushed me or brushed me aside (even though I wandered into his shop three or four times while we vacationed on Whidbey). He was helpful with information about the equipment, but also left me alone when it was time for me to concentrate on playing.
I don’t know how they’re pulling it off. From my perspective, it’s worth the hard work and tough choices. It's clear that Rob & Rachel love Joe’s Island Music, and that makes it a very appealing place. I’ll definitely be back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)