Tag Archive | the cheese sandwich

Look Ma, No Cavities!

Apr8

Yesterday Wren had an appointment for a dental at the vet an hour away. I’d been anxious about it for weeks. It was a great opportunity to observe my wild thoughts, my willful attention that insisted on ruminating on potential bad outcomes from anesthesia, mistakes, other things beyond my control. My rational mind kept repeating all the reasons it needed to be done. I conjured my mother’s voice saying, “It’s going to be fine, sweetie.” The tech was very reassuring and let me leave a shirt with my scent for Wren’s comfort in the cage. After I dropped her off, I drove down to the next town to visit a friend I haven’t seen for years.

She lives with her husband in a sweet spot outside the city, with a pond, a greenhouse, a couple of big dogs. We relaxed in the hot tub with coffee, and spent the next several hours catching up, appreciating the sights and sounds of a yard coming to spring life with birds and buds. I was so grateful for her kind company in her little refuge which helped me stay present instead of worrying about Wren, who hates to be away from me and is terrified of cages. And vets.

She was pretty loopy when I picked her up. Doggie Dentals aren’t what they used to be. It took all day. She’d been sedated, intubated, knocked out, tapped into an IV for quick response in case anything went wrong, monitored constantly, with a long recovery in a cage. They said she did great, no cavities, no attacking the cage, but they did pull one little tooth they said was almost out already. (So now she can whistle when she talks, like Heidi n’ Closet.) I’m grateful her teeth are bright and white like a young dog’s should be, and mostly that we both made it through our stressful day and home safely.

I was grateful to wake up this morning with all of us in this little household where we are supposed to be; I was grateful for the sunshine and warmth, for the beefly I saw in the flowers, for cheerful help in the garden, for the camaraderie of like-minded friends in zooms of two flavors, one political and one spiritual, from a local zoom to one that spanned states from here to New York and Alabama. In my first grateful gathering tonight, we talked about some of the questions offered by Grateful Living in response to the video “A Grateful Day.” The one that struck me to practice with this month is: “If you approached the day as if it were your very first day, what would you see, hear, feel notice? What would seem extraordinary? What would be heartbreaking?” I look forward to waking up tomorrow and taking these questions into my very first day.

Other gratitudes today include the cheese sandwich: mayo, mustard, Penzeys Sandwich Sprinkle, romaine, Havarti, prosciutto, and red onion, definitely a frontrunner for sandwich of the week. And early this morning, my first chuckle of this one precious day that will never come again: I was trying to remember the Czech poet-president’s name, because Mel tried Havel for a Wordle solution, and I was thinking Gustav Havel? Victor Havel? when it came to me Vaclav Havel. I’m grateful for the synapses still firing even if they’re not in a straight line.

Abundant Sunshine

Mar25

I subscribe to The Atlantic online but recently haven’t read many articles because, you know, the headlines. I couldn’t resist one this morning, “The Trump Administration Accidentally Texted Me Its War Plans,” and was flabbergasted by this staggering story (gift link). I see by evening it’s hit all the papers and petitions, and really, everyone involved should be forced to resign. Call your representatives now or send a letter with Resistbot. National security is as chaotic as this puzzle, but not nearly so pretty.

Abundant sunshine has been most welcome these past few days, but it was cold and grey most of the days I worked ‘Sunshine Splatter Paint,’ on loan from the Hotchkiss branch of the Puzzle Club.

Biko has been happily spending the days in his round pen, and staying out long enough to tuck into his new log. The tulip sprouts are crazy with color!

As with the overall picture, I’ve been spending time making order from chaos. Along with Liberty puzzles, abundant mindfulness skills and supportive relationships have greatly assisted my sanity and my fluctuating joie de vivre. I’ve faced a few challenges, both internal and external, and been able to transform afflictive habitual thoughts (“suffering catalyzed by our interactions with other people, the environments and situations we find ourselves in”) into true (if fragile) open-hearted sentiments of compassion and loving kindness.

All but one of the little cabbage sprouts collapsed and died after I transplanted them up to larger pots. It was too soon, I think, their roots too fragile to rise to the challenge. So I planted more seeds directly into the larger pots, and have been setting them outside during the day to give them a head start on sunshine when they do emerge.

Just for this one picture, I did break the cardinal rule of Puzzle Club: no food or drink on the puzzle table, ever. How could I not just set a small bowl of color in the midst of the puzzle? I removed it right away and ate the dark chocolate M’s elsewhere.

The few butterflies in the puzzle recall the few butterflies I’ve seen outside, mostly little white ones since the passing sightings of Milbert’s Tortoiseshells a month ago.

The easy parts of the puzzle moved pretty fast, large flowers and stunning sky, but the middle took a bit longer. The entire process was its own unique delight, as always, from the whimsy pieces to the tenuous touches of placement, and of course, the bacchanal of colors.

Where’s Wren?

Naturally, I made time between teaching, learning, physical therapy, and puzzling to get outside once the snow slowed and mud began to dry. I cleared a couple of branches broken in spring storms, and ventured a little farther down the path each day. And I kept up my perpetually unfolding science experiments, also, with my latest subject a drowned spider. I didn’t mean to drown her but she’d gotten in the sink and I didn’t see her until she was well and thoroughly washed along with some dishes. Usually I see the occasional spider before I start washing and toss her gently over the edge where she can find her way back to her web. This poor girl, I thought she was dead at first but set her on a paper towel to dry off just in case she wasn’t. I dabbed her gently and she moved a leg, so I left her there. After the first day, she turned a bit, so I kept a loose cover over her and checked in a few times a day. After almost four days, she finally sauntered off between checkins.

This week’s winning sandwich was grilled havarti and prosciutto with mayo, mustard, and raspberry jam.

And then, the puzzle was finished, and ready to go back in the box. And I’m honored to have been invited to come out of my box this weekend and discuss ‘Skills for Being More Kind’ on the Mindful Life webinar this Sunday, March 30, at 6 pm Mountain Time. This monthly webinar series is free. In keeping with our mission to make mindfulness accessible to all, anyone who would like to attend can register here to receive the link. I hope I’ve developed enough skills for being more kind to find something wise to say.

One thing I’ll probably suggest is that being more kind to oneself makes it a lot easier to be more kind to other people. Another facet of kindness I’ll mention will be how when we understand our interconnectedness with all beings we naturally begin to develop more kindness toward our fragile spinning planet. The side-by-side images of the brachia of a human lung and a branching tree crown struck me as a potent image of intrabeing. This image and the one below came from an Instagram post by the drag queen Pattie Gonia, whom I just started following after seeing that she made the list of National Geographic’s 33 Changemakers for 2025. I don’t know where she got the images but want to credit her for sharing them.

If you want to organize, check out the links below. The top three offer up to date ways to get involved, and the third, Jessica Craven’s Chop Wood Carry Water also publishes a good news edition on Sundays. I hope that after reading The Atlantic article linked above, you’ll use the 5 Calls app in the bottom section to call your representatives and demand the resignations of the top US so-called “security” officials.

Choose Beauty

Mar18

How did I not notice this extraordinary pattern in Wren’s blue eye? This is one reason I love photography. I see better sometimes through a different lens. I can zoom in or out for a fresh perspective. My aging eyes can’t see this detail when she’s got her face in mine and we melt looking into each other. I’m grateful for this delightful surprise today.

I’ve looked back through images of her to see if this was just an artifact of the camera, or the light, or whether it’s been there all along—and it has! Even in one of first pictures I took of her (above) in May 2022 when I’d had her only a few weeks, you can see the starry darker blue in her iris, but not with the striking clarity of the new phone camera. I simply didn’t look closely enough back then.

Today was classic March in the mountains, windy, cold, with stinging snow flurries, and occasional fits of tepid sunshine. It was a great day to stay inside. Lunch was a grilled Havarti, mushroom, and shallot sandwich. On breaks I continued to puzzle in the sunshine. More about this one later, just a taste today.

I long for the halcyon days when there was nothing more urgent to do with my spare time than enjoy the beauty around me. The causes and conditions of this new era we’re in demand that we all participate in the fierce tapestry of resistance growing daily. I’m grateful to be among many who see clearly; and grateful for the many others who work to strengthen the warp and woof of the weave, the good lawyers and good politicians and good journalists who get paid to defend democracy. Our local Indivisible chapter met this afternoon on zoom and held the full range of each others emotions on this terrifying roller coaster.

Though tonight’s sunset was flat grey, last night’s was ethereally stunning. I’m grateful for a new tripod attachment that let me shoot some short timelapses, and anticipate much joy in coming months from acquiring this single implement. No matter what else you do, make time to do the things that bring you joy. Choose beauty wherever you can.

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

Mar9

Spring inside the house includes tropical orchids and jasmine blooming, and far fewer fires in the woodstove. Yesterday when I realized it was DST I heard myself say I hate daylight saving time! which has been my feeling about it forever. But I decided to try to adapt instead of continuing to resist, in hopes that it will make this transition smoother and faster. Last year I never did quite adjust, because I was too busy hating that it was the way it was. DST is gonna be with us unless it’s eliminated by royal decree, so I’m going to shift my perspective. My plan is to spend that extra hour of light in the evening simply sitting and enjoying it, with a cup of tea or a cocktail, spending time on the deck or in the garden savoring that sweet evening hour before sunset.

Just because it’s spring doesn’t mean every day is balmy forty-something sunshine. We enjoyed a few blustery snowy days last week, and though it was cold overnight the snow melted each day, watering the mini irises. The dark purple are always first to bloom, and as the first patches withdraw more patches blossom, dark purple, dark blue, and these special frilly ones whose name I don’t recall. Last year, these were eaten by deer before they even opened, so I’m especially delighted to see them in full flower this year. I did remember to cover all the bulbs as they pop up with wire cloches to protect them from marauders.

I read a provocative post the other day comparing “patrimonialism” with “authoritarianism” which used the genius of AI to explore the differences. That got me to wondering, when Truth fails us in human discourse, will AI be more, or less, reliable? Then the hopeful notion popped up that maybe the Singularity will save us after all: Perhaps when AI takes over the world, it will know how to discern fact from fiction and will hold to a higher standard of Truth than human beings.

I used to spend one to two hours a week resisting the authoritarian agenda, back in the first regime; even less time politically active during those honey days of the Biden/Harris administration. Now I spend one to two hours a day engaged in some form of action to save America from the MAGA racist-misogynist-white nationalist agenda. It’s a lot. So I’m pretty protective of my down time, and once I have completed my political engagement for the day, I let it go and turn my attention to other things: the beauty that surrounds me, that new recipe for triple chocolate biscotti, a fresh loaf of bread, the latest sprouts in the garden.

After yesterday’s calls to congress, I potted up the cabbage sprouts. I’ve gotten pretty clear on what I can and cannot control, and cultivated the wisdom to see the difference (thanks, Fred, for the reminder of Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer). Healthy boundaries and proactive self-care are essential for as long as I have the wherewithal to engage in those also.

“The best thing you can do to stay mentally healthy is to lean into the fight, be a leader (if possible), surround yourself with like-minded people, and rest when appropriate. We are in for a long fight, so we must pace ourselves while remaining nimble.”

Robert Hubbell

I’ve found the 5 Calls App to be exceptionally easy and user friendly to voice my concerns to the legislators allegedly representing my interests. In all the calls I’ve made in the past month I’ve only once reached an actual human aide. The rest of the time I’ve left voicemails, and I’ve started them off this past week speaking directly to the person taking the message. It goes something like this: “I’d like to leave a message for the congressman, but first I’d like to speak directly to you, and invite you to ask your parents or grandparents if they receive social security benefits, Medicare, or VA healthcare, and see how they feel about potentially losing those benefits in exchange for tax cuts for billionaires. And then explain to them how your boss justifies his support of these policies….” Then I go on to leave my message about how the executive order to increase timber logging will affect the watershed where I live, or how abolishing the Department of Education will devastate public schools and strip civil rights protections for millions of students, and so on. Another good way to share your dissent with the status quo is with Resistbot.

And then it’s mealtime again. Whew! My precious mealtime rituals, moments of dedicated peace and pleasure. This week’s Sandwich of the Week was an impromptu indulgence. When I was growing up the Colonel occasionally brought Brie and baguettes home from the grocery store. I don’t think good Brie was as readily available back then, and it was always a special occasion when he found triple cream. I loved it, but he was austere even in luxuries. He scolded me more than once for putting too much Brie on a piece of bread. His admonition shamed me, but it also puzzled me. Was there such a thing as too much Brie? Somehow I internalized that limitation. I’d occasionally run across a sandwich at a restaurant that included Brie, and always ordered it with a little frisson of in your face to the Colonel; but it never occurred to me that I could make a Brie sandwich at home until recently. The other day, with half a small wedge of triple cream Brie in danger of turning, I sliced it thick and laid it between buttered toasts, one slice with raspberry jam and the other with maple cream. OMG. It was positively divine.

Today’s lunch was another indulgence. Farm fresh eggs are back after winter’s pause. Best eggs here are $8 a dozen at the store, so I rejoiced to learn that the Bad Dog hens are laying once again, and celebrated with two fried eggs this morning, a few bacon crisps, and the heel of today’s warm loaf, with butter and jam.

Clean hankies on the line in today’s abundant sunshine.

A Peaceful Weekend

Feb16

As the coup continues to unfold, I am hearing from friends and about friends of friends who are losing their jobs in the great federal purge. It won’t be long before Mump supporters feel the pain: but will they be able to admit where it’s coming from? Meanwhile, here in the kaleidoscope, climate chaos keeps the colors and textures of the changing season spinning.

I woke up Saturday morning in a vivid memory of the dim halls of the Pentagon when I was six and the Colonel took me there to get my social security card. My breath caught as I thought of his admonishment then. I don’t recall the words but the message was loud and clear: This is who you are now: memorize this number and never let anyone take it from you. Well, I no longer have to worry about identity theft since that’s just happened to every one of us now.

Another sunset, another casserole. I’m calling it the Three Soup Casserole, and this time I added chopped broccoli and my new favorite Penzeys seasoning, Wauwatosa Village.

This gave me a couple of meals for the week, one for the freezer, and some to share with a neighbor. It is truly so simple! And pretty darn tasty, too.

Simply spending time in my kitchen cooking and baking to nourish and treat myself and others brings me comfort and peace. I’m also staying engaged with the resistance in the ways that suit my constitution and current abilities, including amplifying accurate information and upcoming actions. Monday, for example, there’s a “Not My President’s Day!” protest near you. And everyone is jumping on the “No Buy New Year” bandwagon, more about that later.

But once I have done in a day what I’m capable of contributing to the greater good, I allow my attention to return to my simple life, the result of all the choices I’ve made in every moment leading up to this one, and I let myself rest in contentment, with profound gratitude for the conditions of my little life in every moment flowing into the next. As I slice pats of butter to finish the casserole, I slice extra thin to use less butter now so that a) there’s more butter for later because who knows how long we’ll have it, and b) my heart really doesn’t need an entire stick of butter on a single casserole. I slice slowly and feel the butter, and lick my finger when I’m done carefully placing all the pats and taste the butter, and appreciate the butter, because that’s the truth of that moment.

When I serve myself a portion, I taste all the ingredients and savor the nutrition, and feel in my body my gratitude for this food, and for having enough to share. When I vacuum the rugs, I appreciate the machine, the rugs, the electricity, and the sun that provides it, and each element that transforms the sunbeams into vacuum energy; and I appreciate a clean floor.

And the Saturday burbles along with a meditation here, a short walk there, a few conversations; evening comes noticeably later now, and then dark, some mindful entertainment on TV with little Wren, and gratitude for turning into a warm bed. If you also have one, I hope you appreciate your good fortune as much as I do mine.

Like magic, I wake up alive and it’s time once again for breakfast ritual. This morning it was truly simple, a couple of big soft ginger cookies and a hot latté, made even more special by switching to an old favorite mug I haven’t used in awhile. A special friend gave it to me, and I pulled it out when it dawned on me that a tall mug would probably keep the latté hotter longer than the wide bowl I’ve been using (also a special gift) — and it did! Simply using this mug, this special plate, infuses the breakfast ritual with meaning. Even the preparation of the beverage this morning was more of a meditation than usual, as I contemplated the essence of elements: distilled nectar of the vanilla orchid, boiled sap of a Vermont maple tree, steamed fruit of the tropical evergreen coffee shrub. How they all made their ways here! to this moment, in this kitchen! It’s a miracle.

I can see that tonight’s theme is food, sigh. I started a post about drag queens a couple of days ago but it got unwieldy and I’ve had to set it aside to keep working on, so I return to my other happy place. Lunch. Except for days I can’t, I make a point to have lunch right around noon, and take a break from whatever else I’m doing to sit and enjoy a cheese sandwich and a good book. I’m grateful for the old Kindle, and today I’m especially grateful for the recently deceased author Tom Robbins. Some of his earlier novels delighted me and I believe imparted a sense of adventure that wouldn’t have sprung naturally from my upbringing. I was sorry to hear of his passing last week, and immediately checked out his last novel, Villa Incognito, which I hadn’t yet read. Like all his novels, it’s hard to say what it’s about, but it does resonate strongly with me at this time. I highlighted many passages about the folly and corruption of man, and the nature of god or gods.

Ice cream is a gift from the gods, which no one can deny. I’m grateful when I have some in the freezer, and even more so when I have both chocolate and vanilla, so I can swirl them together and savor every smooth spoonful. After more spring cleaning today, and exercising with my long-distance exercise buddy, I got back into the sunroom and planted seeds for three varieties of onions, bulbing fennel, and two types of cabbage. I’m late getting them in, but I’m recommitting to growing as much as possible of my own food this summer, now that I have a new hip and am getting some energy and mobility back.

And then, the kaleidoscope outdid herself this evening…

Wild Friends

Feb12

First thing this morning, Wren dashed outside to greet one of her deer friends under the apricot tree, in a light dusting of overnight snow. It was just over ten degrees. We didn’t stay out long.

But later in the morning we all took a short walk around the west woods to examine the tree trimming our neighbor kindly did for us yesterday. He cut some downed limbs into fence posts and firewood, cut down and up another dying juniper that threatened the driveway, and dragged the brush into big piles for the next chipper trip. Wren and Topaz checked out a good-sized burrow which I’d seen before.

Topaz got a little too close for my comfort, but oddly I trusted her more to not get in trouble than if Wren had done the same thing. I am pretty sure it’s a rock squirrel burrow because the hole looks too small for a badger, but it’s possible… and I wouldn’t want either of them getting dragged in by a fierce predator.

Not far from the burrow, I saw this cache of juniper berries, seemingly excavated from inside the old log. Though my curiosity flickered, I don’t need to know all about it and so I simply appreciated another sign of a wild friend, snapped a picture, and walked on. By then my fingertips were getting pretty cold, so we aimed for home.

Where I warmed up my hands, dug into my own food cache, and made another superb cheese sandwich: on homemade light rye with mayo, mustard, havarti, romaine, potato chips, and just a small spread of some mediocre blueberry jam, which though inadequate for toast is perfect for a touch of sweetness in a sandwich. I was grateful to wake up smiling this morning from a silly dream about very weak coffee that actually tasted pretty good, and ease into another day of mindfulness, good work, contemplation, and gratitude.

Separation of Powers

Feb10

The stars have been beautiful these nights, even as the moon waxes and clouds roll through the darkness.

When the darkness rises within, little Wren brings comfort and joy. I have moments almost every day of sadness or anger or a blend, but then I shift my attention. At some point each day I call my senators and politely but firmly tell them one thing I want them to do to represent me. Today it was to vote NO on the so-called “Fix Our Forests” Act, which NRDC came out strongly against for the obvious harms that supercharging irresponsible logging would cause.

A few times each day, I turn my attention to a simple and delicious meal…

A most excellent cheese and egg sandwich, along with The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
… usually followed by dessert.
I’m thrilled to see that a rosemary survived outside over winter. I planted three in different locations, hoping to find a microclimate where at least one of them would make it.

The weather’s been lovely but we’re expecting a winter storm, so I’ve made a point to step outside a dozen times a day before the snow flies. Sometimes I take a walk in the woods, and sometimes I simply stroll through the yarden enjoying the first green growth – and yesterday, the first crocus bloom.

Whatever the ups and downs of the day, by sunset I have evened out, and rest in contentment living inside this kaleidoscope, sunset after sunset. Usually I meditate around this time, as well as once in the morning and before bed. “Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits,” as the cartoon says. One thing I’ve been thinking about today is the separation of powers in the US government that I was taught as basic curriculum three times in my public school education: in elementary school, again in eighth grade, and again in high school. Fairfax County, Virginia, has long had a fairly strong school system, and I got an excellent education fifty years ago. They’re still teaching basic civics in those three levels, or at least they were last week.

So I find myself pondering how this fundamental concept of the founding fathers, built right into the constitution, has now been thrown out the window. First we saw the erosion of the judicial system with the corruption of the Supreme Court during the first regime of the Usurper, which continued in the interim, and now we’re seeing the entire Department of Justice subsumed under the Executive Branch. Also, where is Congress in all this? Has everyone in the Legislative Branch forgotten about SEPARATION OF POWERS?! This is the next item on my agenda with my senators. Fortunately, there’s a fourth power in the US: We the People. Stand up for democracy sometime during each day: make it a habit as regular as brushing your teeth. And then do more, if you can. The day after tomorrow, I’m going to call my senators and ask them “Didn’t you ever read 1984?!”

Meanwhile, I’ll bake more scones.

The Power of the Pause

Feb7

Today I’m grateful for spending time in the forest. After a walk shortened by muddy conditions, I carried a lawn chair out into the trees and simply sat for awhile. Wren snuffled around amusing her nose, nibbling juniper berries, playing imaginary games; I sat and listened and looked; I breathed clean spring air.

I got back into the fray today, catching up on Today’s Edition with sound advice for sanity, making calls to my Senators, reading a few specific articles including this one about the thousands who demonstrated at state capitols yesterday across the country. But I paced myself. The day started with a member of Telesangha who lives in DC telling me that most residents in his building are federal employees who are panicking. So I led a meditation in which I repeated some sound advice recently shared with me from a talk by Oren Jay Sofer, on how to deal with news overwhelm:

  • 1. Do at least your minimum daily requirement for your body’s wellbeing, including exercise, sleep, and eating well.
  • 2. Ask yourself: Am I nourishing myself? This is essential. What gives you joy and replenishes you, emotionally, socially, and/or spiritually? Include this in your life.
  • 3. Set limits on your news consumption. (I would add, turn off all news notifications/alerts, so that you choose when you see the news.) Not only set constraints, but take in news intentionally. Ask yourself:
    • Why are you seeking information and what needs are are you trying to meet?
    • What specific areas of news do you need to follow?
    • What sources of news and info are you consulting?
  • 4. Action relieves anxiety: so being engaged, taking action in whatever ways are meaningful to us, helps us deal with our angst.
  • 5. Practice with Equanimity. Don’t suppress your responses and emotions, but learn how to feel them without feeding them. Your feelings reflect your values, so use those feelings to clarify your values, hold true to your values, and act in alignment with them in all areas of your life.

As I wandered through the woods I thought about how many of the Usurpers’ edicts have already been challenged or held up by the courts, by protests, and by legislators; and, how many outrageous pronouncements have already been diluted or walked back by the Usurper in Chief. We don’t really know what’s actually happening. The sowing of chaos is an intentional strategy to overload our cognitive capacities. As Hubbell writes, “Not everything that Trump and Musk have announced will actually occur or will be easy to implement. And we will have time to resist, fight back, slow walk, and seek injunctive relief from the courts. We can blunt some of the damage but cannot prevent it all. Still, we must do our best to protect as many people and programs as possible.”

In another post he points out, “Do not collapse the future into the present moment. The future comes at us one day at a time no matter how much we worry. The invariant pace of time gives us space and opportunity to plan, react, and adjust. Find community. Support others in distress. Lead by example….” And so in addition to Sofer’s advice on avoiding media overwhelm, I would add, just pause… When you hear or read the latest outrage, pause and breathe. Don’t react from your gut right away: that will quickly wreck your gut. Take a breath, wait for followup information to determine the actual urgency (and truth) of the situation, and then determine whether and how you can in alignment with your values and your abilities. And do not forget to nourish yourself so that you have the energy to engage in resistance.

Today’s cheese sandwich: chicken, potato chips, romaine and havarti, with mayo and mustard on light rye. Very nourishing indeed, along with the quiet time I spent eating it and reading a fine Irish novel. Then, back to work saving the world, one meditation at a time.

Rebecca Solnit wrote the day after the election, “They want you to feel powerless and to surrender and to let them trample everything and you are not going to let them. You are not giving up, and neither am I. The fact that we cannot save everything does not mean we cannot save anything and everything we can save is worth saving.“

Joyce Vance writes another excellent newsletter that gives wise and helpful legal perspective and interpretation on the coup and its ramifications, which she ends with the phrase “We’re in this together.” There are SO MANY informed and determined defenders of democracy out there working on the front lines. You and I do not have to know everything or do everything. I am one among many, and we are strong and resilient. More will join us every day as their lives become uncomfortable. Anything we do that is helpful, or kind, or compassionate; that is wise, that is true, that stands up to oppression and corruption, ripples out into the world in ways we may never know. Thinking about this, I recalled a poem I wrote years ago, early in my mindfulness journey. What we do matters.

Seeing Reality Clearly: Coup Edition

Feb4

Wren has rolled over after hearing about the coup d’état unfolding in Our Nation’s Capital. I am not rolling over, partly because I don’t look nearly so cute, but largely because I am enraged. Infuriated. Sick. Call it a Coup! Come on you sissypants mainstream media, Call it a Coup! I’ve doubled down on my Jessica Craven calls to Congress, but I admit, watching Drumpf declare war on Gaza tonight chills me to the bone. I know there have been protests in LA against the ICE raids, and a large rally at the Treasury building in DC this afternoon, but for some reason I’m not seeing media coverage of these events as I would have expected to during the past administration. There must be rallies and protests happening around the country. Oh wait, there are! You can find events near you HERE.

I wish I had a new puzzle to help me through the coup this week, but I’ll share my journey with the puzzle that helped me through last week when the news felt bad enough — but not this bad — bad enough that I sold some retirement stocks to have a little more cash in that account. Today I withdrew some actual cash from my bank account. I’m grateful that I have a little cushion from years of saving something. I told the teller I was worried about my social security now that Elon Musk has taken over the treasury. And that was even before I learned the details of the kids who have access to the computer system of the entire US money supply. How the fuck did this even happen? In her insightful and inspiring Substack essay tonight, Joyce Vance quotes renowned historian Heather Cox Richardson, “The replacement of our constitutional system of government with the whims of an unelected private citizen is a coup. The U.S. president has no authority to cut programs created and funded by Congress, and a private citizen tapped by a president has even less standing to try anything so radical.” She goes on to write:

“But long-term success is not a foregone conclusion with coups, especially when citizens are unwilling to accept them. Already, we are seeing signs Americans have no intention of letting it happen here. It’s a slow, still-fragile start, but elected officials and American citizens seem to be figuring it out…. There is still plenty of fight left in our democracy, but it’s an all-hands-on-deck moment. This isn’t a coup with tanks in the streets and mobs overrunning government offices. It’s a quieter coup, a billionaires’ coup. Talk with the people around you about what’s happening and what it means if they’re not aware…. Call it what it is: A coup. Let’s make sure it doesn’t succeed.”

Notice the horse whimsy in the barn, next to the sunflower… and how the tree leaves fit together, below.

It’s taking every single mindfulness skill in my toolbox to get through each day so far this week. I’m making sure to step outside numerous times a day to simply take in a reality more beautiful and fundamental and true than any of the chaos. This is our precious planet, and to wake up alive is a gift. No matter what else happens.

To contemplate and cultivate connection is essential, with other people and with the natural world.

I started the puzzle with the barn because the colors made it obvious; then worked on the tree and the fenceline simultaneously. This puzzle had beautiful color blocks that made grouping the 500+ pieces easy. Since I only glanced at the boxtop before starting, it took me awhile to recognize the Boulder Flatirons as the red rocks in the foothills, and suddenly all the outdoor enthusiasts made even more sense. I wonder what Boulder is doing about the Coup? Did I mention you can find events near you HERE? We are Americans! We aren’t going to stand for this!

I recognized the rock climber because he looks just like a boyfriend from long ago, complete with the thin climbing shoes and the little chalk bag hanging off his hip. And those muscles! I’m grateful to know, even without looking on social media, that my old boyfriend is equally enraged as I am.

I wish I had the luxury to lie around and pick daisies, but that’s the kind of oblivious laziness that Muskrump are counting on the American people to indulge in. We can’t spiritual bypass, we can’t ignore like the bank teller who said, “I don’t pay attention to news,” we can’t stick our heads in the sand of a puzzle. As Oren Jay Sofer writes in his recent book Your Heart Was Made for This:

“When we habitually override our limits and push for productivity, all the while beset with distressing news, permission to do nothing is a welcome relief… But emphasizing relaxation to the exclusion of determination and action is a grave mistake. If we stop at relaxation, we miss the immense benefits of inner cultivation and risk abdicating our responsibilities to one another, future generations, and the planet. Relaxation and ease are essential in life and on the contemplative path, but they must be balanced with wholehearted resolve.”

Right now is the time to rally all your resolve. Action is the antidote to Anxiety. Thousands of excellent leaders are gathering tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of grassroots activists. There is something you can DO, somewhere near you or from the security of your own home. Please just do something! Follow some of these leaders, those who resonate with you, whose voices bring you comfort and inspiration. Subscribe to Jessica Craven’s newsletter Chop Wood, Carry Water to learn a range of actions you can take each day to help protect America from this neo-Nazi takeover. Read this article by Rebecca Solnit to understand how the simplest actions of daily living –like mentioning to a news-phobic teller that there’s trouble in the money world– can make a difference. She may have dismissed me in my ‘Drag is Not a Crime’ ballcap but I bet I got her thinking, at least for a minute.

And, while you still can, savor every single cup of coffee, every single pot of tea, every single cheese sandwich, every single meal you’re blessed to set on your table. Finding stability in the midst of uncertainty is also a form of resistance, and takes practice, courage, and resolve. Seeing reality clearly can be painful but it’s fundamental to wise action. We cannot know what the outcome of this coup will be: unforeseen eventualities and unintended consequences may result in a pleasant surprise. But I imagine that hard times are coming. As Robert Hubbell says, “If you are suffering from a renewed sense of dread, take strength from the fact that we survived the first time around. And take heart from the fact that tens of millions of Americans are battle-tested, dedicated defenders of democracy.” Join them. Join us.

Last week’s Sandwich of the Week involved fried pepperoni that was getting old in the freezer for lack of homemade pizza, and pickled cherry tomatoes from three years ago needing to make room in the pantry. Also avocado, romaine, homemade light rye bread, and Havarti. And of course, God’s gift to the sandwich, mayonnaise. Do something kind for yourself today, and do something strong for our country.

This Awful Eve

Jan19

On this awful eve, Courage and Resilience are the values I’ve set to embody this week, and for this coming era. I rise above the claws of dread that try to drag me down, and open to the full range of possibilities that each moment of uncertainty offers. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, or the next day. I’m not optimistic, but I have been practicing courage and calm, and it’s my intention to continue that, one uncertain moment after another.

Some of us will spend tomorrow morning celebrating a great and kind leader instead of gawking at a circus of lies. If you’d like an alternative to the inauguration, join Robert Hubbell on Substack for a livestream of readings from important leaders of democracy, including Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I heard this poignant quote of his this morning at a Upaya gathering:

“Power without love is reckless and abusive; and love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love, implementing the demands of justice; and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.”

On the same zoom, part of a series called ‘Awareness in Action,’ Jon Kabat-Zion spoke about the polycrisis exploding on the planet, and asked, “How do we cause the minimum harm and maximum benefit?” Would that everyone would live by this guidance.

The bittersweet foam at the bottom of the mug: I am grateful for this coffee, this milk, this cinnamon, on this precious day that will never come again. While coffee is still available for now, the chocolate market is unstable. This alert appeared last month when I tried to order Mt. Mansfield dark chocolate maple bark: “Due to volatility in the chocolate market attributed to wide-scale cocoa crop failures, we have temporarily halted production of this item.”

With that in mind, I’ve continued to explore ways to disengage from the billionaires’ conglomerates that have insinuated themselves into my life. I’m participating in the Meta boycott, which is easy and if enough people do it will send a powerful message to Zuckerberg: simply log out of Facebook, Instagram, and any other Meta platforms today, and don’t log back in for a week. Multiple sources online assured me before I did it last night that nothing gets lost, and whenever you log back in you pick up where you left off. Imagine the impact on advertisers, and thereby on Zuckerberg’s bottom dollar, if several million people ignore these sites for a week. R. Hubbell considers the nuances of such an action and invites us to use these platforms intentionally if we’re going to use them.

I spent an hour this afternoon disengaging from Amazon, by canceling most of my Subscribe and Save items. Next to the Amazon tab I opened Thrive Market, Chewy, and Grove Collaborative, all more ethical choices for necessities in light of the Bezos capitulation to the oligarchy. I searched for the same or comparable household, grocery, health, and pet supplies on the relevant sites, and saved them on these platforms as I culled them from Amazon. Every little bite out of the profits of the billionaires who will sit on that stage tomorrow makes a difference. A million minnows can devour a shark.

As always, even more so, I’m grateful for the simple pleasure of a cheese sandwich. This version from three days ago includes mayo, lettuce, homemade B&B pickles, and a dreamy, creamy, horseradish cheddar with a kick that was a birthday gift.

My mother chose to quit living a week after the 2004 election of W. She could have lived a little while longer, but she was so disappointed that she didn’t want to. (Her speech therapy in the months prior to that election included repeatedly articulating “Bush stinks,” among more colorful phrases.) I thought of this when President Jimmy Carter died last month: maybe he didn’t want to see the new president take office. Carter tried to address the polycrisis even before it had a name, as all the separate threads of it began to congeal. It’s horrifying for many of us who watched (or took) great strides on behalf of the planet, civil rights, women’s rights, basic human rights, to contemplate the giant leap backwards that tomorrow portends. We’re going to need all the courage and resilience each of us can find. I’m profoundly grateful now more than ever for having found the practice of mindfulness and the internal skills it cultivates.

Today’s cheese sandwich included tuna salad, romaine, and a thin layer of horseradish cheddar on the latest perfect sourdough loaf. With mayo, of course. A few cheese puffs, and the romaine ends for little Wren’s last bite. She lies patiently behind me in the chair as I savor my simple fare, and when it’s her turn she sits on the rug and catches the crunchy lettuce bits I toss to her. My heart breaks for all those suffering in the world who cannot enjoy such simple pleasures for whatever reasons. I do not take the good fortune of my current circumstances for granted, for I know that all we have is the present moment. Tomorrow (always) everything could change.