McCain - who is he professing to be now?

Now more than ever our country must take off the blinders and take a good hard look at things as they are, not as we wish them to be.

Today John McCain called for a suspension of both presidential campaigns in order to address the financial crisis. For the past week Senator McCain has been red faced and brutal in his attacks against the Wall Street perps who done us wrong. But wait, could all this fist pounding and histrionic rhetoric be a smoke screen for the truth: that John McCain IS one of those he is railing against?

Yes, my friends, Senator McCain has been at the helm of this big oversized Titanic for 26 years pointing it in the direction he wanted it to go, in order to make ridiculous sums of money for his fat cat friends in Wall Street. Now that it's hit the ice berg he's running down to the life rafts with the women and children, all the while berating the horrible brutes that were steering this lumbering mess.

John McCain is a wolf in sheeps clothing and the American public had better get their beer goggles off and take a good long look. He's the guy that mentions that he was a P.O.W. after every question, yet he sponsored legislation making water boarding and other torture techniques legal. He proposed legislation supporting de-regulation, and now he claims to be such a Maverick that he's angry at those who are in support of it.

He's a hot head, not a Maverick. He's a coward hiding behind the latest polls, not a hero. His latest stunt of postponing the debates I believe, is his desperate attempt to slow down the momentum of the Obama campaign and he will do any cheap stunt to make it happen.

McCain at one time seemed to be an individual, now he appears to be a right wing puppet who will do or say anything, true or not, in order to win the prize.

There is everything we are as a nation at stake in the election and I do not want a leader who is ill tempered and reactionary. Barack Obama leads with a calm, methodical approach, and isn't that what we need in anxious times like this?

This country is hungry for the kind of leadership we can be proud of again and it sure as hell isn't going to come from the right. As Democrats we are finally finding our voice and taking back our place at the table.

Oh yes we can, hell yes we can!

Time

This week I am celebrating my birthday; and with this comes reflection. There are things that with time, become more clear, and other things grow hazy around the edges.

This I know for sure:

Love really is all there is

Nothing is random

We create our world minute by minute

Also, shit happens

Then we still try to create our world, with the shit that just happened

Life is a series of proposals which we accept or turn down

Every single transaction in our day is an opportunity to learn

All beings are our teachers

Chocolate pudding is a healing substance for many of life's challenges

Prayer, chanting, singing, wishing, feeling, humming, art, and poetry all bring life into a higher vibration and it's good

Giving brings you an expanded heart

Children are like a fine wine, grandchildren like aged port

It's harder to take risks as we get older

It's exhilarating to be free of the expectations of youth

I'm less sure of many beliefs that I once held true, but more sure of who I am

I am not certain that I will ever know the sole purpose of why I am here, I'm not sure I even need to know. I do know that as I grow older I am more tender at the bone. That hard outer shell of youthful bravado has long been shed in the molting season and I see life with sharper focus now. Life, with all of it's heartache and brilliance is only sweet when shared. I am grateful to have so many in my life to share it with.

This blog entry is a big thank you to those in my life who teach me, love me, help me see, help me play. I hope to grow older with more of a sense of abandon, to stretch and grow and not be held back by fear or worse, by apathy or entropy. There are too many adventures still calling to just slow down.

Giddyup, carry on!

Coinage

Man, this is so funny I wish I had thought of it. There is a new term newly coined and it fits once you hear the explanation. The term: Slacktivists. Let me break it on down for you.

Slacktivists are people who are PASSIONATE about things going on in the world, they are frightened about the state of the economy, about the fate of the planet or the migration of the whales. They post blogs furiously opposing drilling, or fur wearing, or anyone who doesn't recycle every scrap of anything in their domain. They post blogs about it and discuss various hot new topics on Facebook or MySpace. Hot topics! High energy! Wordy diatribes!

But you know what? It's all words, no action! Hence: Slacktivists.

I just love it. So everyone who bitches about the current administration, but does absolutely NOTHING except talk about it and write about it, are slackers in activists clothing.

Real activists get out and DO things. They help register voters, make calls to legislators, volunteer in the community and most of all they VOTE.

I'm throwing down a challenge. If you really believe in change, are you doing anything to help bring it about, other than talk about it?

I'm just asking . . .

Nerdification

Okay, I looked at today's date and all I could think of is: 9/10 a big fat hen.

Carry on then!

Stations in Life

I have wanted for a few years to do an artists rendering of my life like the stations of the cross in a church. "THE FIRST GLORIOUS MYSTERY: Therese gets an ass whooping"

For so many years, really difficult years, I felt defined by my challenges. I thought they showed like a neon sign and I was embarrased by my station in life. I went for years without being able to afford nice clothes, a proper haircut or to even have my teeth cleaned. One Christmas a dear wonderful friend gave me a gift certificate to my dentist for Christmas. I almost cried, both for the thoughtfulness of it, and for the realization that I was so needy. I used food stamps for a while, stood in line for government cheese and day old vegetables. I felt so small, so vulnerable and yet . . .I imagined a time when I would rise up. I imagined a time when, instead of being on my hands and knees scrubbing someone's kitchen floor, I would have a job I felt proud of, making good money.

Today as I look back I can honestly say I am proudest of the fact that I scrubbed floors, cleaned toilets, mowed lawns. I did what I had to do, and I did it with gusto, I did not give up. Sometimes that is the only thing to do, keep going.

Today, I see my life as an interesting fairy tale. So many characters, so many interesting chapters and colorful twists and turns. I am my own fairy godmother, but I have others who help me along the way. Dear friends and family here and beyond. My personal guide behind the veil who I affectionately named Tony some years ago. My mom, now passed on 18 years.

As a girl of 16 I left the Catholic Church, much to my family's horror. Today, though I have no regrets about that decision, I am obsessed with religious memorabilia. Is it my mom, sweeping up behind me trying to trick me into going to church again? I think these iconic images are ingrained in us in some primordial way, at a cellular level we have these familiar archteypes that bubble up in our dreams, come out in our doodling. I am attracted to labrynths, great and small, crop circles and scared geometry-all of these beg to be noticed.

Perhaps all we really do here during our lifetime is find our way back to ourselves. Like Dorothy, we always know the way home, we just need to trust ourselves. Oh, and the shoes.

TV Blackout

Okay, it's quiet on the dark side of the planet. I am normally in high def dorkification during political highlights, but I have to admit here and now, that I did not watch Sarah Palin speak at the Koolaid fest Thursday night. I left the television off. Why? There isn't enough anti-nausea medication on the planet that would allow me to ingest all the putrid rhetoric that was set to be spewed. Can I comment on her speech? No, I cannot. I can only say this for anyone on the fence about this election: Our basic rights are in jeopardy here. A vote for McCain will set us back decades. Roe v Wade will be overturned and women will be dominated by men again about what they can do with their bodies.

There are those of us who still believe in individual rights. We will not go back, we will not ask for permission, and we sure as hell will not tolerate the misogyny that was the norm in bygone days. We stand on the shoulders of great men and women who have fought long and hard for women's rights. I will not stand by and watch that overturned by a group of war mongering, bible thumping zealots. My body, my decision. We would all do well to put all of our time, energy and finances toward the goal of getting Barack Obama elected as our next president. God help us all if it goes the other way.

Sorrow up close

I was at the University of Michigan Hospital today for an appointment. I made a visit to the ladies room when in walked two women, likely sisters, who looked to be in their mid sixties. They both were crying inconsolably. Just unabashed sobbing and heaving. They both proceeded to the double sink and began to splash water on their faces, but the tears wouldn't stop. They grabbed for paper toweling and attempted to dry their faces, but it was so pointless as the tears were coming from a deeply primal place. Their gutteral moaning as they sobbed was so wrenching to hear, and their tear stained faces, distorted with pain were a picture of sorrow. As they passed me trembling I muttered "I'm so sorry". One of them looked at me with a hollowness that telegraphed "You cannot imagine our agony" and then they left.

In my ridiculous ponderings of life and fairness and red rubber balls, I need to remind myself that pain is relative. We all get a turn, but by and large, I am still in the lucky group. My children, though two of the three have faced difficult physical challenges, are still here, and still vital and recovering. I am blessed, I am so blessed. All three of my children are darlings, total blessings in my life that I could never profess to deserve, and yet they were loaned to me during this lifetime. What a gift is that?

What can we do but to see life, with all of it's pain and sorrow, joy and happiness as a beautiful gift and savor it all?

Carpe Diem, I shall try. Each day, seize it, clutch it, grab it, shake it, kiss it, hug it, wring it out dry and then wear it as a mantle of honor.

Those women in the bathroom, God bless them for what ever horrible loss they were facing, whether loss of a person, loss of health, loss of what they thought their lives would be like, now altered. God bless these women with the strength to endure.

One woman I know who lost her son to cancer last year, recently told me that the grief after losing him is so difficult she merely asks herself every day just to breathe. That statement is so starkly honest, it gives me chills. Breathe, sometimes that's all we can do.

Today, and in the days ahead, I hope I can somehow communicate to those whose tears will not stop, whose agony is heard in their aching cries, that I see their pain and that I wish them comfort. To recognise those among us who are suffering, and be present with them as they try each day to breathe, is all we can really offer. I hope it's enough.

(please note that the photo is a stock image from the Internet)

Didn't the kettle send the memo to the pot?

Isn't it rich that Karl Rove is complaining about the Dems as they uncover more details about Sarah Palens life? Karl freaking Rove is calling somebody out on gossip and mud slinging? That is just straight up HILARIOUS!

There is a new term in the accepted American lexicon and it's called Rovian tactics. Yes, as in Karl Rove. It means to be dirty handed, covert, ruthless, heartless and did I say dirty? Karl Rove and his minions have savagely torn apart any and every person who they felt was ever a threat to their party. If you have any doubt, please go back and review the hearings regarding Valerie Plame Wilson. Her husband dared to disagree with the Bush White House and the hounds of hell were unleashed via Karl Rove.

Whether or not it's right or ethical to be dissecting Sarah Palen's family life is beside the point. The point is, Karl Rove made up the rules to this ruthless game of politics, and now he's in the referee's face trying to call a foul.

Karl, the Jerk Store called and they're all out of you!

On Jesus and Pie

I'm in a state of flux with my spirituality, and why not just lay it out there for anyone to see? There was a time in my life when I believed that there was black, and there was white. Life was simpler then, no thinking required. No ruminating over anything in life, it was all summed up in one big heaping helping of Jesus Jesus Jesus. Are ya saved? Praise Jesus! All sins washed away and on that glorious day when Jesus returns, we will all float up on gossamer wings singing "Nanny Nanny BooBoo, you should have gotten on the Jesus train suckers!"

Alas, I peed away all the Koolaid and got a nice clean drink of clarity, and as I climb back up the rabbit hole I am wondering what the hell is really going on. I believe in reincarnation, I do. But then I also miss the sweet feeling that when I die I will immediately fly up to heaven. Can I do both? Can't I fly up to Heaven while I'm waiting in line to come back here and do it again? I guess I believe but I am like that guy standing in line at Best Buy. He's got the big box in his hands, he is just about to get out his wallet when he thinks: "But what if a new upgraded one comes on the market tomorrow?" Is my ideology outdated, or just diluted? Am I so jaded that I can't just simply believe in God and leave it at that? You see, I feel like the Patriarhical influence on religon has made us believe that God is a really scary dude in the sky who throws red rubber balls at people at random. I want to believe that God is sometimes a man sometimes a woman, and always benevolent. Then that cynical part of me laughs, a real hearty belly laugh, and tells me I'm such a nut! God isn't even a real anything silly! God is not even real, just some stupid myth that we all have to reinforce with each other so we don't think our lives here on the planet are about nothing. It gives us meaning to run around dodging a red rubber ball. Yeah, no thanks to Joseph Campbell here, kill joy.

Now right about now you're wondering if I'm smoking something from a bong made out of a ceramic monkey skull right? Yeah, nope. Just wondering about the meaning of everything, as I am wont to do, and trying to make sense of things. Trying to figure out where to hedge my bets. I guess when it all shakes out I am betting on the fact that in some big old cosmic way, everything we do does really matter, and that someone, some thing larger than me is rooting for me, trying to give me hints along the way toward helping me create the best life possible. I've seen too much evidence in my own life and I know that all these signs can't just be random. Pie in the sky? Sure. It's the kind of pie I like though, so I'm good with it. What's your favorite pie?