Ah while ago, someone dear sent me this poem.
It’s been pinned to my bulletin board ever since, but I never thought I would look at it this morning and think “1933”, as in “but this cannot be happening”.
I could rage, I could snark, I could drink (in fact, I have already done a fair share of all three in the past hours), but I want to focus on something productive, something good.
I had scheduled a fun post for today, but I postponed it.
I woke up this morning at five because one of my children cried. I made the mistake of checking the news as I went back to bed. I could find no more sleep.
What do I do in face of international hate-mongering, division and fear taking hold more and more across the Western world? I fear for friend and colleagues in the U.S., and beyond.
The analyst me raises her eyebrow and says, “See, that’s the logical result of latter day capitalism in its dehumanizing effects, and the result of funding cuts to education and the arts”.
Art is empathy is communication is participating in beauty and truth. If I have never learned, never been allowed, to see and feel beauty, of self and others, or to feel and be beautiful in correlation with (and not against) others, who will I become?
The bloated yellow creature is one thing – a horrible footnote -, but I think about those who enabled him: who cast their votes, who saw off the branch the sit upon and that keeps them from the alligators below, in an act of ignorant spite: at what peoint have so many people been lost to hate and fear? How to reach them to cross this seemingly bootless divide again?
And what about those of us (the majority of visitors to this blog come from the U.S.) who are othered, who are now more firmly put into the political rhetoric as the “they” and not as the “we”?
How to write now? How to be a little point of light, with Auden, communicating with other little points of light, being visible to them and being present, as witness, aid, companion?
I don’t favor escapism, but sometimes, we need a break to recharge (so, yes, that fun post will go up tomorrow. We need that, too). So it will be respite in beauty here, but also discourse in beauty, and in sound, and in scene: in communication.
Relating to art and having it influence our lives, thougths and emotions. Constituting our humanity by sharing this vulnerability and our being moved. Finding ways of thinking ourselves anew, closer, brighter, kinder: This will be my resistance now.
It wasn’t that highly political until yesterday. Today, it is.
And I will not stop fighting for this tiny bit of light, and towards a hopefully brighter times to come.