47: Week 7

Escape is a fine thing, and today, Nan and I ventured downtown to the Travel Show. We weren't looking for anything in particular, just a few hours when we weren't aware of the latest maneuvers of 47 and his cronies. Nepal, Samoa, Cayman Islands, Baja, and Fairbanks caught our eye, and we spent some time chatting with folks at those booths. Do we have an exotic trip planned right now? Nope. Are we actively planning? Nope. But dreaming--heck yeah. Honestly, I am not sure what the future landscape looks like in terms of sussing out places to go where we might be welcome, places that feel safe. 2025 had always been slated for low key travel since we had taken two fabulous adventures last year--Africa and Norway. And with the climate and uncertainty as it is, we are not planning travel away from this continent, at least for the moment. 

Earlier in the week, I read Arthur C. Brooks' "My Mom's Guide to the Art of Living." One of the things he does to start his day is write 2-3 things he is looking forward to, moments to feel alive. So for this week, I have done that in the morning, sitting with my journal and thinking about some of the things that will be in my day that I might savor. It helps steady me into the day, reminding me that the day doesn't need to be a constant deluge of WTF moments. Before I start writing, I glance back at what I noted for the prior day, and most of the time, those things occurred and really did bring me joy. Going for a long hike with a friend, making granola, working on some writing, taking Whitman for his walk--my days have plenty of goodness to keep me from falling into too much doom.

And while that all sounds ideal, there have been many times this week where the news angers and saddens me. After reading about the words that should disappear under 47, language to keep out of grants and websites, I wondered what a few sentences might look like with a number of these words present:

They wondered how accessible affirming care might be for a sex worker wishing to travel across the Gulf of Mexico. Their sex assignment at birth excluded them from a sense of belonging. When hate speech became a forbidden expression, they felt most at risk

The list is quite the doozy, and if you haven't seen it yet, here's "These Words are Disappearing...." Perhaps use many of those words on a postcard for the Ides of March postcard protest. I'm looking forward to sitting down later in the week and creating a number of snarky angry pointed messages on a postcard to mail to 47. 

I hope that you are finding ways to recharge and smile, even when doing so feels a bit impossible. Since the weather here is pretty darn nice and feels like spring is coming into focus, I decided to dig in the dirt a bit today and plant some radishes and spinach since they can tolerate the cold that will resurface here and there over the coming weeks. 

We have power over many aspects of our life, and even when the darkness challenges all the light we beckon, we can hold tight to community, love, and our values. Some days we just need to keep on keeping on.