Mid-Year Thoughts and Reflections over Coffee

Hello, fellow humans. It has been a while since I have had the energy and vim to sit at the keyboard and pour my thoughts on everyday life onto virtual paper. After a surge of impromptu conversations with musicians and artists over the past weeks, I wanted to step back and jot down some reflections I had post-it’d somewhere, waiting to become paragraphs or pages or — perhaps reduced to captions of imagery and events and, as such, interpretable as one pleases but not necessarily reflecting their intended meaning or importance.

A BIRTHDAY TO REMEMBER

This year’s birthday will go down in personal history as one of the scariest — there’s nothing like being awakened by tornado sirens in the early morning hours.  The hurricane-force winds and driving rain of that day resulted in the loss of life across North Texas and significant damages, and tens of thousands remained without power for several days. Surprisingly, my lilapsophobia did not go into overdrive, and for that, I am thankful. We had minor damage to our property and were not left without power for too long (keep in mind, it is hot already this time of year).

It was surreal seeing deck furniture take flight (though reasonably secured) and hearing the ominous cracking and snapping of trees all around. We had to say goodbye to the 40-foot cedar elm, which threatened to fall on the house. Other trees had to be significantly, but judiciously, pruned to prevent potential damage as much as possible. We love our trees, which make our neighborhood attractive and peaceful. As soon as I can complete my project for a tree memorial, I will share the results with you. Does a memorial sound silly? Perhaps. Yet each held many memories created under, by, and around them.

Just last week (I know, I know), I restored a 40-year-old wind chime that had been ripped off from under the roof eave and retrieved in a sad state, in pieces. I certainly could have bought a new one — but why? In the spirit of preserving memories, I cleaned, sanded, and restored the tubes, the strings, the clapper, and the windcatcher. It hangs again in its usual spot, gently chiming when the wind picks up from the north. Its sweet, at times tentative sound is meaningful to us and lifts the lip corners into a whimsical smile of silly delight.

Windchime Restoration

Looking ahead at the rest of this year, nothing is set in stone in this blog-verse, but plenty of pebbles are scattered about. Though challenging for various reasons, many projects, tidbits, and ideas are waiting to be worked through and devoted attention to – and I am focusing on small steps at a time on this creative road ahead. Regardless of the results, I will share them with you occasionally, without pressure. I am looking forward to imperfection and stumbling ahead with determination.

PIVOTAL MOMENT FOR AMERICAN DEMOCRACY

It is no mystery to anyone in any part of the world how American politics and societal conduct within or around it has been reaching consistently more appalling levels of disconnect and apathy. I will not illustrate or debate the many mind-boggling irrationalities we have been privy to recently. Significant issues have turned (and still turn), unchecked and recklessly, into some comedy, dramedy, satire, and disparaging zeitgeist snapshots. The usual “Rumspring” -ing (no reference to the Amish but rather the very notion of “jumping around”) has grown into grotesque and foolish TikTok-like “challenges” that provide facepalm entertainment (mildly put), often with dangerous consequences: funny – but not funny at all.

The constant bashing, hope, and loss of hope, clinging to and abandoning faith depending on which directions the winds blow from, character-smearing, divisiveness, and societal assignments to factions are reminiscent of “Hunger Games.” Brutal. Remember the setting? The game makers design the arena where the games occur—different every year. Yet, same intention, same outcome. Until not. Perhaps this is the, if not only, opportunity for the unwilling “players” to realize that the games are not virtual and, if lucky enough to survive the games, there is no place to go back to that provides comfort and safety. Go vote accordingly – quit the mind-numbing rumspringing; come together, back to basics, to what the founding fathers wanted: separation of powers to prevent tyrannical rule. And – yet – that is precisely the direction this country has taken. Life is not the movies. This is no longer abstract; it is dystopic. There is no coming back from that, and history is a witness. Reflect.