When I imagine a door, I think of all the women ancestors who suffered, who marched, who persevered, who stood up again and again, who walked up to the precipice and beyond, for me. I think of Ellis Island, the scores of seekers milling about, hoping to get in, wanting better for their children in America. After this election, I imagine those doors slamming shut, rights ripped away, people rounded up, folks in despair. It is unfathomable what they have done. But then ... then ... I have to imagine that door opening again, a crack, a glint of sunlight, from somewhere. Please, for our daughters and sons. May it be so.
Thanks, Laura, for sharing where you are. In AA I learned about just doing the next right thing, one day at a time, one breath at a time. That’s where I am. I felt such shame Wednesday morning. I threw away so many Tillcodems emails and the leftover campaign material and slate cards that I didn’t put on doors. I wanted to erase that I was on the ‘losing’ side. I didn’t want to go to downtown Tillamook and be seen in our campaign headquarters where we had welcomed hundreds of people who were so excited to be part of trying to get Kamala Harris elected. Then I began to hear about how the Democrats did it wrong and lack vision and how they’re “just the same as the Republicans.” And I had to feel that. Which includes outrage at some people’s failure to recognize that the Democratic vision does include taking care of the collective, even as I mourn that there was not a strong stance for Gaza. Both things can be true. And I mourn the descent of the darkness, even as Trump supporters tell me that everything’s going to be wonderful now and that we’re going to have peace and we can all get along again. And in the face of that, which I find to be the most terrifying disingenuousness, I have to continue to do the work, the most arduous work these days, to keep my heart soft and not to generalize about the ‘other’. And in days to come, perhaps I will have more moments where I don’t consider them ‘other.” because I must not give into the egoic drive to create separation. I pace myself in calling and connecting with each of my family members who endorsed a candidate I don’t even want to name here. I am careful and tell my truth about the darkness that I see and the trauma activation I am in, and I do not blame or excoriate. I affirm love. But my soul weeps, and I must over and over consider Jesus‘s words, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” Because these people who voted for Trump, they love people, and some of the people they love are going to be terribly hurt by what is to come, and these people are going to have to wake up and see what wrought, and I grieve over my story. And I consider the irony that perhaps then we will be more united, even though it will be in grief. Right now, in my family I am alone in my grief, and I am struggling, using all my resources, one after another. to support my activated nervous system reeling from our country’s second election of a criminal narcissistic psychopath who is so reminiscent of my own father. The lower self of our country is in full reveal. That must happen in spiritual evolution. Only acceptance of the lower self allows the energy to be freed to return to the cosmic energy stream that enlivens us. I know, as the Pathwork guide says, that people create out of unconsciousness. I have done that, and as a flawed human, will no doubt again So I must locate within myself similarities to what I despair about in the ‘other’ And then go to work on my own misconceptions and continue to free myself and help the planet through my own evolutionary work. We as a country are going to have much unity in coming days experiencing the destruction that will come. And that that is where increased unity could come is heartbreaking. And yet, given that there is always grace in the darkness, I trust the perfection of this unfolding. As Cynthia Ocelli says, “if you didn’t understand growth it would look like complete destruction”. So right now, I think it is connection that will save us. And connecting with your post was the catalyst for all of this outpouring which is clarifying and which I will use to go forth on the Path. Thanks for all of what you do in the world, Laura, and for sharing so vulnerably.☮️➕💜
This is beautiful and wise and terribly hard, Tam. Thank you for sharing. Connection as a way forward ignites something in me too. I'm so glad my words led to you sharing these thoughts here. We can pass our sparks to each other, cupping them against the darkness.
I so understand. With a new book coming out, at first I thought, so what, what does it mean in the face of this disaster. Then I saw posts of elegant poetry and reminders of Toni Morrison's words about art, and I realized writing is what I do, my salvation, and I'm proud if it, and oh, so lucky. So, like you, I will go on, supportive and taking care of others in every way I can, and forever thankful to be a part of this glorious community.
Great perspective, Janet. Thank you for sharing. I don't know what's ahead or how I'll feel in another week or month, but head down, doing the work, is all I can think to do right now.
We are all together here. What you do and what you give us as writers and creators is immeasurably valuable. Thank you. I do "Imagine a Door" and we'll go through it and on the other side, we will still be together, doing what we do, giving what we can, day at a time, moment at a time.
Yes, it's hard to be a writer in these times, to find what to express in service to friends, family, readers, democracy. One sketch at a time indeed. And also, getting outside of my house to organize in my community, map my neighborhood, no matter how they voted, to be prepared to share resources, water, food, books, etc. Mutual aid and poems.
I just sent you an email, then realized oh hey! I should (also) use the comments section. Michael and I just--and I mean, *minutes* ago--had this same conversation. I said I'm not ready to plan next steps, and I'm not sure I will be. Can I just not be involved in politics for the next four years? Maybe. But loving my friends, supporting vulnerable people, keeping on with writing and publishing . . . that I can do. Does it change the world? Maybe not. But it changes moments. And maybe that's what we mostly have.
I love this so much. Changing moments. YES. And thank you for sharing. I can't imagine summoning a gameplan right now besides carrying on and taking care of the people I can.
Thank you for this no-BS post. It helps, even if a little. I'm solidifying some ways to cope and work forward -- continuing to organize like-minded for The Fight...but not yet. Maybe next week. Hopefully.
I'm very excited to watch you bring this book out into the world. It struck me going through this cycle (not surprising) that once again, the sane voices are the writers, but that writing may no longer be enough. It's a good time for the imaginers to imagine something different.
Dear Laura and Readers: we all seem to be in the same sad boat. What I love about this Substack post is a reminder of what we CAN do: write, publish, support each other and be as kind and compassionate as we can in a world that desperately needs these gifts to override the hubris we too often see in world leaders. "Blessed be" as the good mothers say.
When I imagine a door, I think of all the women ancestors who suffered, who marched, who persevered, who stood up again and again, who walked up to the precipice and beyond, for me. I think of Ellis Island, the scores of seekers milling about, hoping to get in, wanting better for their children in America. After this election, I imagine those doors slamming shut, rights ripped away, people rounded up, folks in despair. It is unfathomable what they have done. But then ... then ... I have to imagine that door opening again, a crack, a glint of sunlight, from somewhere. Please, for our daughters and sons. May it be so.
A glint. Yes. May it be so.
Thanks, Laura, for sharing where you are. In AA I learned about just doing the next right thing, one day at a time, one breath at a time. That’s where I am. I felt such shame Wednesday morning. I threw away so many Tillcodems emails and the leftover campaign material and slate cards that I didn’t put on doors. I wanted to erase that I was on the ‘losing’ side. I didn’t want to go to downtown Tillamook and be seen in our campaign headquarters where we had welcomed hundreds of people who were so excited to be part of trying to get Kamala Harris elected. Then I began to hear about how the Democrats did it wrong and lack vision and how they’re “just the same as the Republicans.” And I had to feel that. Which includes outrage at some people’s failure to recognize that the Democratic vision does include taking care of the collective, even as I mourn that there was not a strong stance for Gaza. Both things can be true. And I mourn the descent of the darkness, even as Trump supporters tell me that everything’s going to be wonderful now and that we’re going to have peace and we can all get along again. And in the face of that, which I find to be the most terrifying disingenuousness, I have to continue to do the work, the most arduous work these days, to keep my heart soft and not to generalize about the ‘other’. And in days to come, perhaps I will have more moments where I don’t consider them ‘other.” because I must not give into the egoic drive to create separation. I pace myself in calling and connecting with each of my family members who endorsed a candidate I don’t even want to name here. I am careful and tell my truth about the darkness that I see and the trauma activation I am in, and I do not blame or excoriate. I affirm love. But my soul weeps, and I must over and over consider Jesus‘s words, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” Because these people who voted for Trump, they love people, and some of the people they love are going to be terribly hurt by what is to come, and these people are going to have to wake up and see what wrought, and I grieve over my story. And I consider the irony that perhaps then we will be more united, even though it will be in grief. Right now, in my family I am alone in my grief, and I am struggling, using all my resources, one after another. to support my activated nervous system reeling from our country’s second election of a criminal narcissistic psychopath who is so reminiscent of my own father. The lower self of our country is in full reveal. That must happen in spiritual evolution. Only acceptance of the lower self allows the energy to be freed to return to the cosmic energy stream that enlivens us. I know, as the Pathwork guide says, that people create out of unconsciousness. I have done that, and as a flawed human, will no doubt again So I must locate within myself similarities to what I despair about in the ‘other’ And then go to work on my own misconceptions and continue to free myself and help the planet through my own evolutionary work. We as a country are going to have much unity in coming days experiencing the destruction that will come. And that that is where increased unity could come is heartbreaking. And yet, given that there is always grace in the darkness, I trust the perfection of this unfolding. As Cynthia Ocelli says, “if you didn’t understand growth it would look like complete destruction”. So right now, I think it is connection that will save us. And connecting with your post was the catalyst for all of this outpouring which is clarifying and which I will use to go forth on the Path. Thanks for all of what you do in the world, Laura, and for sharing so vulnerably.☮️➕💜
This is beautiful and wise and terribly hard, Tam. Thank you for sharing. Connection as a way forward ignites something in me too. I'm so glad my words led to you sharing these thoughts here. We can pass our sparks to each other, cupping them against the darkness.
Yes, to do the next right thing. I remember the Serenity Prayer, especially "the wisdom to know the difference."
I so understand. With a new book coming out, at first I thought, so what, what does it mean in the face of this disaster. Then I saw posts of elegant poetry and reminders of Toni Morrison's words about art, and I realized writing is what I do, my salvation, and I'm proud if it, and oh, so lucky. So, like you, I will go on, supportive and taking care of others in every way I can, and forever thankful to be a part of this glorious community.
Great perspective, Janet. Thank you for sharing. I don't know what's ahead or how I'll feel in another week or month, but head down, doing the work, is all I can think to do right now.
We are all together here. What you do and what you give us as writers and creators is immeasurably valuable. Thank you. I do "Imagine a Door" and we'll go through it and on the other side, we will still be together, doing what we do, giving what we can, day at a time, moment at a time.
Yes. Exactly this, Judy. Thank you for sharing.
I feel this down deep in my being.
Yes, it's hard to be a writer in these times, to find what to express in service to friends, family, readers, democracy. One sketch at a time indeed. And also, getting outside of my house to organize in my community, map my neighborhood, no matter how they voted, to be prepared to share resources, water, food, books, etc. Mutual aid and poems.
Yes. Mutual aid and poems and all the other good things we can do, share, BE. Thanks for this perspective, Nancy.
I just sent you an email, then realized oh hey! I should (also) use the comments section. Michael and I just--and I mean, *minutes* ago--had this same conversation. I said I'm not ready to plan next steps, and I'm not sure I will be. Can I just not be involved in politics for the next four years? Maybe. But loving my friends, supporting vulnerable people, keeping on with writing and publishing . . . that I can do. Does it change the world? Maybe not. But it changes moments. And maybe that's what we mostly have.
I love this so much. Changing moments. YES. And thank you for sharing. I can't imagine summoning a gameplan right now besides carrying on and taking care of the people I can.
Thank you for this no-BS post. It helps, even if a little. I'm solidifying some ways to cope and work forward -- continuing to organize like-minded for The Fight...but not yet. Maybe next week. Hopefully.
This is where so many of us are at. Reading these words helped me feel like my grief is part of a larger grief.
I'm very excited to watch you bring this book out into the world. It struck me going through this cycle (not surprising) that once again, the sane voices are the writers, but that writing may no longer be enough. It's a good time for the imaginers to imagine something different.
One breath at a time, one sentence at a time. Onward, Laura. Sending love and support. Sheila
Dear Laura and Readers: we all seem to be in the same sad boat. What I love about this Substack post is a reminder of what we CAN do: write, publish, support each other and be as kind and compassionate as we can in a world that desperately needs these gifts to override the hubris we too often see in world leaders. "Blessed be" as the good mothers say.
I kinda hate to say this, but, Sad Hair is a really good name. Like, good band name good.
Thank you, Laura. I feel the same. I’m confused and grieving. This is not who I thought we were. I, too, am imagining a door.