America's Song

Soooooooooooo... sobbing like a baby here and I'm gonna totally lift the text and the video from my friend, Cele's blog. Thanks C for posting this beautiful, inspirational piece. I am touched. Immensely.

America’s Song – featuring David Foster, Will.i.am, Faith Hill, Seal, Bono, and Mary J Blige. Thank you Oprah and Harpo Productions, and of course YouTube.

Moved

I am so touched. Touched beyond words. I spent the Inauguration at my daughter's school and got to revel in the sounds of the celebration echoing through the halls as I ventured toward her room. I got to spend the morning drinking in the jubilant cheering and singing and dancing as these children witnessed the swearing in of a new president... a president with whom they identify even though they are too young to vote. I got to listen to their words and feel their excitement and witness their hope as they listened intently to his words. I imagined what the world looks like to these children and imagined that they felt safe, for the first time in maybe their whole life. I feel peaceful and hopeful and excited for what our future holds, for what the future holds for these children. I feel grateful to be alive, to be an American and to have played a small role in America's movement of change.

Spreading Love

I have been deeply saddened by the outcome of Proposition 8. I have watched as my friends and loved ones have had their rights stripped from them. I have read their words of anguish. I have heard the pain in their voices. As grand and as big as the hope and the joy for the future as the nation elected Obama to office, the deliberate denial of an entire sector of our population is as grand and as big in the opposite direction. How, as a nation, can we be unified under a young man who has hope in his eyes, who is to be the leader for change, when we are cutting off a vast group of our people? How can that possibly work?

The video below is so beautifully presented. It's about six minutes along. I recommend creating the time to watch it.

I have asked many of those same questions many times. I would love if someone - anyone - could come up with some viable, believable answers already!

History in the Making

Last night, just after the news started rolling out across the land that there was a good chance that Obama would be elected, I went to dinner with my mom at a five-star fancy restaurant. We were celebrating Election Day. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation all throughout the restaurant, although it could have just been because we were crackling with anticipation. About halfway through the dinner, Grumpy Grumperson in his late sixties, early seventies sat down near us. His wife was demure, small and slumped. She trembled all through their silent dinner, as though she had Parkinsons or some other nervous disorder.

He was so gruff and growly that, from the first moment he walked in, I wanted to install the biggest wall between he and I. I did everything in my power to ignore the angry waves of energy slamming all around the room from his vibrating body. He had a permanent scowl on his face, the lines of which were deeply ingrained in his skin, possibly even his skeletal structure. He was one of those men that you just knew ya didn't want to piss off. He rarely talked to the woman cowering at his side. When he did, it was muffled behind his clasped, fidgeting hands.

Until...

"I just wish they would have killed him. Those two skinheads had the right idea. They should have let them finish the job. It would have been easiest while he was out campaigning."

It was the only thing he said loud enough for everyone near his table to hear him. My jaw dropped and I stopped mid-sentence, so angry to have heard his statement. My mother stared at me, both of us completely blown away that we had heard him say something such as that, that he had balls big enough to say something such as that. I turned to look at him, seething with anger and stared him right in the eyes, hoping to high hell that he could read my thoughts and would begin to disintegrate there in his chair. He stared back at me, daring me to stand up to him and appearing completely confident that his expression was perfectly appropriate. I wanted to club him in the nuts.

I was so taken aback by his explosion that I just gaped at him, astounded that he had so bluntly stated out loud something so offensive. I felt angry for more reasons than he was talking about the man I voted for. I felt angry because he was talking about another human being. I felt angry because his line of thinking is the biggest reason that our country is such a mess. Somehow, that cantankerous old man was better than this young black man who has a vision of change for this country. His divisive thinking is too prevalent - although not as prevalent as it was throughout history - and, if allowed to continue, will be our ultimate demise.

I don't know how to deal with men (or women) like that. I didn't know what to do last night. All I knew was that meeting him with my anger would only have fueled his fire. He seemed to be wanting to get a rise out of someone. And it certainly wasn't going to come from his frail wife who shrunk lower into her chair at his outburst and whose tremors became more evident as the night wore on. I think I would tremble too had I had to live with that man for as long as she appeared to have.

*sigh*

I feel really honored to be alive at this moment! I feel so excited about the future of the United States of America. I feel grateful that people turned out in hordes to exercise their rights and make a difference. I love that, as the news started trickling in that Obama would be our next president, I was surrounded by people I love. I feel happy that I participated and that I got educated about the process and the platforms. I feel happy that my daughter was educated, as well, about what this election was truly about - what the two main candidates stood for - and that she was able to decide for herself (even though she is not old enough to vote) who she would like to see end up in DC. She and I discussed the candidates and she had a very clear opinion of who she felt best suited the role as president and discovered she was almost 100% in line with Senator Obama, as was I. I feel grateful that my tearful fears about the citizens voting in a man who lives 24/7 with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as the next president went totally unfounded.

I feel impressed by the campaign Obama ran, that he did so with integrity and bold-faced answers, that he did not shrink from uncomfortable questions and that he was always able to bring the conversation back to the true matters at hand. I feel honored to have a man as President of the United States who obviously loves, respects and is still attracted to his wife. I feel excited to be supporting a man who is a seemingly approachable and very likeable man. I feel hopeful. For the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful about the future of the America.

Clasped Hands

It's November Fourth and I'm scared and excited at the same time to watch the elections results. I am breathing deep and willing every eligible voter to get out to those polls and stretch their voices. I was amongst the over 300,000 people who early voted here in Utah and I'm grateful for that, as it was an hour long wait when I was there, which taxed my patience as it was and was painful with all the grumpy-grumps that mumbled and grumbled about the wait. From what I hear, this year's election will be record-breaking. I hope YOU are a contributor to breaking that record!

To My Friends...

Thanks Tewksey, for posting this so I could pass it on too!

Politics

I haven't really gotten involved in the political world here in my blog. In fact, I believe there has only been one post specifically about this particular election year. I have stayed quiet because I am uncertain and I feel scared. There are aspects of each of the candidates platforms which greatly disturb me, as well as impress me. I resonate with each of them in certain areas and want to run away when each of them present their views in other certain areas.

There is one candidate, though, who has been hedging forward for me. One candidate who, when they speak, I shudder less when listening. One candidate who, I am realizing as I compare the three remaining, has fewer ideas I oppose and more I support. I appreciate the directness of this candidate. I appreciate the humanness. I appreciate the willingness to address topics that no other candidtate will level-headedly address. I appreciate the concise and unheated responses. I appreciate the clarity. Even more importantly, this candidate speaks to what is in my heart: love, acceptance and embracing of everyone.

America, it's time to do something radically different...

Lions for Lambs

I saw a movie this weekend, Lions for Lambs and was so moved by the performances and the three different story lines that were intricately interwoven. For anyone interested in the state of our involvement with the ongoing wars, I highly recommend this show. It gave me something to think about, wonder about and, even, feel afraid about. For anyone who has a loved one enlisted and in active duty, be sure to take a really big hanky. That particular story line ripped my heart out.

Crumpled

The bedraggled old man's sign read:

He stood at the bottom of the freeway exit, where all persistent beggars stand. He appeared downtrodden, his chin raised with the last vestiges of pride but eyes focused on the ground just ahead of him. He shuffled from foot to foot, seemingly uncomfortable. It could have been the heat. It could have been standing all day. Perhaps it was because he was continually examined with mockery and scorn and sometimes yelled at: "Get a job, ya bum!"

The shiny, new black Corvette in front of me revved his engine and I observed the driver glancing to his right where the beggar stood. The beggar's attention was markedly averted from the sports car. Since most of the yelling I have heard has been from out of barely-opened windows of vehicles such as the one in front of me, I imagine the beggar was trying to be invisible.

I was watching the beggar, feeling empathetic for him. I was curious when I saw him jump as if startled and look directly at the Corvette. Then I gazed through the Corvette's rear window and witness the driver leaning across to hand out a floppy old bill. The paper appeared to have been manhandled from every citizen around the globe but it was, still, money.

The beggar bowed slightly and tapped his invisible tophat and I saw his mouth speak, "Thank you. God bless you, friend."

Quiet

Celebration of the holiday was strangely quiet and solitary in my world.

I picked up a very tired little girl from her daddy's house around noon. Even at that time of the day, her eyes were drooping and I could see the wear of a week-long lack of sleep and too much time in the sun at the lake. Her eyes teared up when I stepped through his front door and she launched herself into my arms, "Momma! I missed you."

I am so grateful that this is still so. I know there may come a time when she wishes to be far from me. I soak up these little moments during her young life and store them for a later date.

Somewhere in the valley on the eve of Independence Day, there had been celebratory firework displays. The smoke of which clung low in the atmosphere, hugging the mountains in a smokey white cloud and creating an elegant image.

She and I journeyed out to the edges of town and, along the way, passed a domestic elk ranch. We stood at the fence, eyes wide with awe and stared at the huge, magnificient beasts. One fine specimen was perched in the small creek, near the fence, chewing his cud. He was near enough that his astounding velvet-covered antlers were within reach. My daughter, adventurous soul that she is, reached her hands through for a touch.

She ran to me with a squeal. "It feels soft and... tingly."

"Tingly?"

"Yeah! It made my fingers tingle. It feels like it moves."

I was intrigued, so I ventured near and reached in. The bull elk was oblivious to our touch, although I was certain he was aware of our presence.

Indeed, the rack did vibrate. As he chewed, the crunching resonated through the branches.

She and I secreted ourselves away in the cool darkness of a movie theater. I allowed her to pick the movie - Nancy Drew - and endured a painful rendition of a classic character. I allowed her to go to Hobby Lobby with her own hard-earned paycheck (she is contracted to clean her daddy's office every week) so she could buy art supplies to her heart's content. I allowed her to pick the restaurant for lunch. I allowed her a visit to Jamba Juice where she picked and purchased her first sampling of their delicious juices - a small Razzmatazz. I was simply along for the adventure of her company.

Traditionally, the Fourth is spent with family and friends usually at a park with picnics and fireworks. This year, it was just the two of us with a long nap after the juicing, a splash in our swimming pool and then a cuddle on the couch as we watched one of our favorite movies - A Good Year. During the flick, we heard fireworks from some celebration. She dashed out the front door but could not see them.

Early to bed last night. Late to rise this morning.

"Gee, Momma. I didn't get to see any real fireworks last night. I kinda feel sad about that."

Me too. Independence Day just seems incomplete when my eyes are unable to drink in the brilliant explosions and feel the sonic booms in my belly.

Independence

Today America celebrates its Independence.

On this day, my mind goes to my cousin Jeff Fisher who volunteered to step up and make a difference. I feel proud of him.

I feel proud to be an American.

As I drove around this morning, I passed a spot I pass several times every day. This spot is a favorite gathering place for vagabonds and homeless people alike. They stand on the corner holding tattered cardboard signs with black Sharpie marker etchings that declare their state of poverty and displacement.

This morning, a young man stood there, holding his little square and beaming like the Chesire cat.

His sign read:

Spaceship broke down.

Need new parts.

Need money for new parts.

Please help so I can go home.