As of yesterday I officially belong to no party. I am neither red, blue or green, despite my having considered an alliance with the Democratic Party, at the height of that glorious sweep of hope two years ago with the election of President Barack Obama.
It seems as befitting a moment as any to take stock.
The US population is almost up to 310.700,000 which includes 11.2 million undocumented residents. I count as one inside the third most populous nation in the world, after China and India.
I was never convinced the world needed more people and particularly not the propagation of my genes.
More women choose to stay childless, but there is supposedly a stigma attached. Something I never knew and could cared less about. I wish more women had the good sense to abstain from popping out babies when they lack the resources, inner and outer, to properly raise them. Mothers belong with their infants, not away at work. Maternity leave should be a granted right to all new moms. Those that want to jump right back in the fray like Sarah Palin should not have babies. This is not a matter of being old fashioned, but of listening to the intrinsic needs of newborns. A real live warm tit will never be replaced by a bottle, no matter the convenience.
In the US almost 80% are White and supposedly privileged. I count as one of them. Almost 13% are Black and a bit over 15% are Hispanic.
As of 2007 12.6% were foreign born, that includes me.
The United States has a life expectancy of 77.8 years at birth. Over the past two decades, the country's rank in life expectancy has dropped from 11th to 42nd in the world. Shocking, but not unexpected.
Approximately one-third of the adult population is obese and an additional third is overweight. I am ashamed that I have to count myself in, despite daily walks, some biking and no fast food. I never yet had ever a desire to taste a Big Mac.
In 2007 almost 80% considered themselves Christians. I belong to the 16% that do not belong to any religious denomination and want no affiliation with any church. I admire those that due to their faith give of themselves and manage to do immeasurable good. I despise those that despite their religious believes act cruel and selfish.
At the start of 2008, more than 2.3 million people were incarcerated, more than one in every 100 adults. African American males are jailed at about six times the rate of white males and three times the rate of Hispanic males. I have been inside Sing-Sing, but only as a visitor. While I do not use legal or illegal drugs, I wish pot would be decriminalized. Take away the glamor and the incentive for rebellious teens. Let adults make their own choices. Tax dope and reduce the national deficit already. It's time to stop this madness.
Every form of life is precious and deserves our utmost care and respect and reverence. No matter the color, the sex, the status of documentation, the crime or the age. I guess that is what I am trying to say.
All information was taken from Wikipedia. I can not vouch to their accuracy.
SUENOSDEUOMI'S RUMINATIONS AND PERSPECTIVE
Dream Home
The other day I met the man, not of my dreams,
but of my dream home.
Happy Full Moon!
Once again it sneaked upon us.
but of my dream home.
The man greatly offended my Isabella-girl when he stood there and seemingly oddly looked up in to space as he actually checked his phone lines. My girl made her suspicions known loud and clear. I did what any good canine guardian might do, I had her sit and apologize to the man and that is how we got to talk. The owner of my dream home is an artist who builds sculptures from recycled materials. He shared with me the background of this most appealing of homes. An Opera singer in her eighties built this rather small house for herself and her lover. Got to admire those hearty folks able to take on serious undertakings in their advanced age. The lady would sing her heart out behind those windows with those gorgeous views across our City Different. He could have fenced in those acres around his home, but chose to be a good and friendly neighbor to the dog park and confessed to having had no problems with us park visitors ever. It was a delightful exchange I had with the man of my dream home and of course I made it clear that I was standing in line if ever he needed a caretaker. I would love the proximity to our favorite open space with a view that is not to be sneezed at.
Happy Full Moon!
Once again it sneaked upon us.
Post Election Reflections
Last weeks election results have me baffled. Keeping my cool has been seriously compromised. What are the American people thinking? On election day I hunkered down outside my local polling station, curious what kinds of folks would show up. Few did, but one Hispanic guy was open to discuss his choices. Pissed at our Democratic Governor who had been embroiled in scandal, he blamed Richardson for stealing his Mom's pension fund. So he was ready for change. He claimed to listen to Amy Goodman's Democracy Now, but he voted for a Republican Governor. So now we have Susanna Martinez, the first female Hispanic Governor ever and what does she do? Investigate already on how to reverse recent legislation in regard to the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) as if the environment needed not more, but less protection! With big money from Texas ,her home state ,we are sure to see oil interests rise and pristine areas opened to invasive drilling, resisted up until now.
A planned acquisition of land for an ambitious 4 prong project to rescue wild Mustangs, to rehabilitate and employ them for therapeutic gains for kids and vets and tourists will likely get nixed with the myopic state of minds of most Republicans. One elderly lady expects hunters to be given access to up till now protected environments. One would wish for more wisdom with females in leading positions, but I never believed peace to reign with females bickering (and this our two contenders for Governor did up to election day.)
One of my favorite cute young check-out guy at Trader Joe's grocery store admitted he did not bother to vote. I gave him hell. Well, not really, but I did impress on him the importance of doing so and he agreed he made a mistake. Have you talked to your check-out guy or gal lately, about things that matter? I highly recommend talking to those around us for real.
At the dog park on my twice daily outings I inquired about how others feel about the results and lo and behold there are a few there too that voted supposedly conservative. The First Lady's entourage was blamed, the expenses of the President's trips were mentioned, but not the expenses of Bush's war mongering? It took only one round around the park for one woman to consider she may have made a mistake with her vote for Republicans. Mind you we parted with hugs and the satisfaction of being able to voice our differing views and hear each other and find a surprising lot of common ground. Have you talked to your friends and neighbors yet lately? Again, I highly recommend it, we do need civilized discourse. Politics and money should no longer be off limits, they are too important.
Bush is hawking his book and so I got to watch him on Oprah. He mentioned that sinking feeling when he learned that there were no weapons of mass destruction and then continued that EVERYBODY believed Saddam had them. Nope, I did not, and neither did the investigators and he chose not to listen to them, but follow in the footsteps of unconfirmed ideations of his own. I blame him for not having taken the time, not having had the wisdom to wait out the results of an almost complete investigation. before going to war. Inexcusable. Bush did not say he was sorry! Instead he claims a black entertainer's critique of racism hurt him the most! But objections to his actions from throughout the world, in the millions, ran down his bare back like water and left him unaffected? Bush says he is done with politics and it seems to confirm that his stints as Governor and President were likely geared towards pleasing his Dad. Gosh what an immature mind. Do the American people really have such a short memory?
to be continued ...
Sour Grapes
Just like too many comments posted do not relate to my posts, but only to ruthless advances of commercial agendas, something most of us despise, these berries of course are not grapes and are not sour either. We used to add them to our grain coffee at our Macrobiotic restaurant. With little color left late in the year these have caught my eyes, especially when illuminated by the early morning or late afternoon sun.
I do apologize for your inconvenience, the extra hoopla required for now in posting your legitimate comment. I treasure your feedback and contributions and maybe differing angles of views. Please do not let that deter you, sincerely, om.
Lost Opportunities
I grieve the lost opportunities that came with President Obama's rise - and fall. How can a man that was able to speak right out of the hearts of the people so suddenly get so out of touch? How can so much hope and excitement dissipate so fast?
Today, the day after the mid-term elections, President Obama in his response to the press mentioned the height of craze of two years ago as he tried to convince us that we are all on a learning curve and that change is a process, not an overnight miracle. But the craze was not crazy, but real. So many of us want change, not incremental, but at the core. We believe too many bad weeds need uprooting, a purge of major proportion is in order. Wall street has to be given perspective and has to serve once more the people. Corporate power needs to be reigned in. Free enterprise does not mean free reign to those with money, power and influence, and no conscience. Corporate entities are not people and should never have been allowed to hold such status. Shame on those conservative courts. Shame on those that exploit.
I do not care much for the color red or blue, too primary, too simplistic for my taste. I like nuanced tones a whole lot better. Like so many I have not been able to identify with either party. We do need more options, but not the Tea Party. We need to step forward in time not backward.
While I am not for abortions, I am most certainly not about to tell another woman what she can or can not do with her own body. Do we really want to revert to backrooms with coat hangers? We have to embrace science and not deny the well proven facts. Omitting to teach science and history according to facts rather then philosophy ought to be a crime and should be considered a terrible indoctrination.
I am a product of the sixties, which were the seventies in Europe, I have been anti-establishment since my teens. Voting Democratic by default I am suddenly accused of wanting government hand outs and worse having a socialist agenda intent on the equitable redistribution of wealth. Hilarious, if there were not as much at stake. By the way, I do own my home free and clear and pay off my credit cards monthly and so far managed to stay debt free.
A discussion on what ought to be under government control and what not might very well be in order. Locally we got our train and some bemoan that it is not a profit making enterprise. No wonder I say with the restrictive hours and destinations of it's service, but coming from Switzerland I do not believe train service has to be a profitable business, primarily it ought to benefit the people, the community and the environment. The decrease in carbon emanating commuter vehicles with the benefits of a lower carbon foot print, better air and less congested roads ought to be plenty of incentive to support travel by rail. I fear for our trains under our new Republican Governor.
Worse I fear the American mindset that loathes a powerful, intelligent, well educated and well spoken woman like Nancy Pelosi or President Barack Obama, but embraces personalities like Christine O'Donnell and Sarah Palin with their cocky, cutesy, even sexy, certainly folksy, but seriously uninformed states of minds.
With shattered hopes and a country reverting back to old worn out ways, it is tempting to become a cynic, turn away from the ugliness of politics as usual, turn off the TV with it's toxic commercials and simply stop caring. But care we must! Conversations must be had. We do not have the luxury to ignore each other, we live too close, too dense, too dependent on each other. So I invite your views on the state of affairs post mid-term elections, please.
The Wedding Party
On a roll, with love still in the air, the wedding party approaches, informally formal, 5 males. The boy kept his arms clasped behind his back while he ascended the steps to the cathedral. One boy amongst men, one can sense the importance of the occasion. Excitement seemed to scent the air, linger and infect others.
Slice of My Life
While my pups were picked up 7 a.m. for a 12 mile run up on the mountain, I took my time with a breakfast of 2 fried eggs (rare for me) with Swiss Chard picked yesterday evening from the Community Garden, enhanced with roasted green Hatch chile peppers. I must admit, more protein with less carbs, no matter how complex, help with irrational pangs of hunger.
Home alone for a whole morning felt strange and has become rare since I brought my Isabella-girl back to my den, rescued (who are we kidding?) from the shelter 4 years ago to the month. Our pack since expanded with the additions of Sumo, a Yorkie/Poodle/Maltese and an escape artist, and Saemi. the Pretty Kitty. (I ought to mention the chatty white Parakeets that moved on. Yin died prematurely from a swollen brain and Yang preferred the company of a male with whom she recreated herself many times over in the shortest of time.)
So home alone, I listened to soulful music by Leonhard Cohen (I'm Your Man) and Otis Redding (Satisfaction) and busied myself with the homely activity of mending what needed fixing from a pile that had been sitting and waiting for my attention for way too long.
So home alone, I listened to soulful music by Leonhard Cohen (I'm Your Man) and Otis Redding (Satisfaction) and busied myself with the homely activity of mending what needed fixing from a pile that had been sitting and waiting for my attention for way too long.
By lunch time my pups were not yet back, so I fixed myself a whole wheat pancake with a topping of my own home made applesauce and whole milk yogurt followed by a strong cup of black coffee with added cinnamon, a sprinkle of ginger and vanilla, Jeff Bridges' Fallin' and Flyin' filled the air and made my muscles twitch. I love that song. It is so not my normal listening style. Not since the early nineties when I gave up on an obsession of a few years with Country Western dancing. Eventually I had to accept that I would never fit in to a Country Western crowd and that that was o.k.. (I ought to mention that the gay Country Western and Salsa crowd in San Francisco did make me feel at home, because it was such so wild and diverse, lively and over the top scene, hilarious and such fun.)
When my pups returned they were covered in something, I was afraid shit like last time, but it may just have been underbrush, but all over, entangled and it took me two hours to get them acceptable again for indoor living. So worth it though. Now they are, still damp, conked out on the couch, pooped, but looking very fluffy, cute and extremely relaxed. Jeff's Brand New Angel smooths out whatever wrinkles may still linger in my soul - for at least this very moment.
The day concluded with an impromptu purchase, a gorgeous, long haired, multi-colored, eco certified sheepskin, the best and most luxurious protective cover for my new sofa I can imagine. Currently both of my pups seem to kinda blend in with the fur, Sumo on his back barely distinguishable. Will try for a shot in tomorrow morning's natural light.
I luxuriated in the feel of the fur draped over my arm rather then stuffed inside a bag, on our way back home. But a detour beckoned and we entered a bookstore to listen in on a poet's rant, a performance, about our drug culture. More then his words I admired his body language. The guy was so centered with a pleasing economy of movement that exuded a strange appeal on me. What a rich day it has been. Life can be good in a calm kinda way.
The day concluded with an impromptu purchase, a gorgeous, long haired, multi-colored, eco certified sheepskin, the best and most luxurious protective cover for my new sofa I can imagine. Currently both of my pups seem to kinda blend in with the fur, Sumo on his back barely distinguishable. Will try for a shot in tomorrow morning's natural light.
I luxuriated in the feel of the fur draped over my arm rather then stuffed inside a bag, on our way back home. But a detour beckoned and we entered a bookstore to listen in on a poet's rant, a performance, about our drug culture. More then his words I admired his body language. The guy was so centered with a pleasing economy of movement that exuded a strange appeal on me. What a rich day it has been. Life can be good in a calm kinda way.
Sumo's Birthday
Sumo on his first visit with us when he was only 1 1/2 years old. Tomorrow he will be 5, time flies.
The celebration started with a nice long bike ride this morning. He raced ahead as usual, and made it a challenge to keep him on my side. I figure it is his nature, he is a natural athlete and needs that forging ahead, expending his energy, exploring new places.
For a treat I got my furry ones Sardines in oil, as Sumo can use the extra energy from the oil, while Isabella is more in danger of putting on the pounds and looking suddenly round. The Pretty Kitty snubbed the offer, no sense in arguing about likes or love and hate. Tomorrow there will be an extra large helping of chicken and something special I will figure out to do with just me and my Sumo-boy, likely by bike.
The celebration started with a nice long bike ride this morning. He raced ahead as usual, and made it a challenge to keep him on my side. I figure it is his nature, he is a natural athlete and needs that forging ahead, expending his energy, exploring new places.
Pretty Kirsten - Pretty Kitty
Pretty Kirsten, who rented my home during my 6 years of living in California, visited town and stayed with us last night. Exhausted from a full day, maybe overcome with emotions, she rested on our new futon couch, hugged the Pretty Kitty, while Sumo insisted on inclusiveness and being part of the action. It was a sweet moment that I hope comes through in this manipulated image.
This morning Kirsten tried to visit her old stomping/stamping/jumping grounds, Saturday's Afro-Haitian dance class, a weekly ritual we had both adhered to almost religiously over a number of years, but instead she had felt the need to turn away because tears streamed down her face. This girl gets emotional every time she is in town and every time she recalls the good times she had here in the City Different.
It is nice to know how much she appreciated then, and still appreciates now, not just Santa Fe, but also my sanctuary, my haven, my home that had suited her perfectly then, and still delighted her these days. Actually Kirsten threatened me with serious repercussions if I dare change some of her favorite features. It's nice to be friends with what used to be my renter. It is sweet to welcome a guest in to our abode. Sumo agreed, and had no trouble deserting me for a night in favor of not leaving Kirsten's side, literally, with his butt pressed against her side, all night long.
Finally, after all these years I learned that pretty Kirsten is a celebrity for whom some folks will stand and wait in long lines so as to gather an autograph of hers!
Mysterious Homeostasis
Life is mysterious. And when I think of life, I think of organisms, even single celled ones, that strive toward homeostasis, toward a kind of inner balance between interdependent elements inherent in any living system. This striving is powerful and mysterious and lies at the core of some touch therapies, maybe in truth most healing. But some modalities aim with more precision at clearing of pathways for that inner self correcting force.
These days we have bodywork of all kinds available to us, few understand the difference, fewer even have an inkling of the potential inherent in varied touch therapy approaches. It is not my intention to offer an outline of such, or promote a certain type of bodywork here. What interests me, always has and always will and what I want to try and somehow describe is some of that mystery that happens in effective healing.
While all bodywork is somewhat non-linear, judged on a continuum, say against more traditionally western masculine trades, there are notable differences. Within the realm of bodywork some approaches will fall on to a more yin or feminine, specter of sides. The manual therapies lend themselves to a hands on, active, yang, 'get-things-fixed’ kinda manipulative mentality. The kind we are so familiar with in our society, the kind of left brain, linear, 'got a problem-will solve it' masculine attitude.
While all bodywork is somewhat non-linear, judged on a continuum, say against more traditionally western masculine trades, there are notable differences. Within the realm of bodywork some approaches will fall on to a more yin or feminine, specter of sides. The manual therapies lend themselves to a hands on, active, yang, 'get-things-fixed’ kinda manipulative mentality. The kind we are so familiar with in our society, the kind of left brain, linear, 'got a problem-will solve it' masculine attitude.
There are though some approaches that are more focused on listening and following and waiting for a response from within the receiver. There are some methods that avoid a goal oriented, forceful approach in favor of trusting the unknown, hanging with possibilities, resting in presence and studying the here and now. The Taoist art of non-doing is a challenge for us westerners. Yet, the Taoists really knew about life being a river and how not to obstruct the flow. I am thinking about approaches that seek to get out of the way and allow for the river to find it's own natural course. It takes commitment to refrain from making a riverbed, from making it happen. It takes trust in the processes of life, the mysterious, but powerful force in us all that seeks homeostasis. It takes presence and it takes focus. A kind of soft, inclusive focus.
As we are present to a body, any body really, ours or another, if we listen and observe we will eventually notice something, maybe a sensation like heat or cold, a tingle or a shudder, or a slight tightening. Maybe our attention might be drawn to an old and familiar symptom, maybe some pain or discomfort. Just maybe we may notice impulses to move, maybe particular body parts may call on us. It takes some practice to discern which of these myriad of possibilities to follow and give our attention to. Always at first it is a wait and see and breath and relax, or nothing of note will develop.
Invariably though, after some sinking in to the present moment, something will want to hold our focus and we are well in giving that our undivided attention. Nobody can know what will unfold, but always there will be some movement. In general from sensation to feeling, on to experience, insight and integration. From the present maybe, not necessarily, but often, we may move to the past where we might recollect memories that will need integration back in the present.
Not all of these stages are passed by everyone all the time, but in my experience I consider it best, if that is encouraged and there is sufficient time for all stages to be incorporated, so as to be able to reconfigure on a higher level of organization, or homeostasis.
I realize that I failed to convey the sense of magic and mystery that transpires as we follow those seemingly autonomic processes, as we give up our own will in favor of something deeper and a lot more mysterious. As this force gathers momentum and comes to a crescendo and we are flooded with insight, it is hard not to feel gratitude and simple awe for life's extraordinary provisions.
to be continued ...
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