It’s a great group of people dedicated to improving children’s health, and I’m excited to be part of something local that has a clear mission and the capacity for measurable success. That feels especially critical at a time when so much national and international news is overwhelming. And – less loftily, but important – I have a window! With a view of First Unitarian!
Late afternoon winter light on First Unitarian, Providence
Winter has been fairly mild, despite one big blizzard followed by heavy, sloppy snow 3 days later. I was lucky enough to have a snow day, which was perhaps more exciting than it should've been for an adult. I spent the day in sweatpants reading, dozing with cats, making soup and shortbread, and feeling cozy.
We do cozy pretty well here in our little sunflower yellow bungalow: Sam bakes bread regularly, and an everyday pleasure is toast topped with a little butter and some jam she made from last summer’s raspberries. I think I will survive the coming apocalypse as long as Sam’s with me, although I will miss the butter.
I am worried about the coming apocalypse, as are so many of us. But I'm also convinced that effective Resistance is expansive and holistic: it is speaking out and giving money and time and energy to worthy causes. And it is also consuming and creating art in all its forms. I've been doing some of my own writing, but I'm drawn particularly right now to art that challenges me and makes me uncomfortable, like Octavia Butler's Kindred, Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad, and Ava DuVernay's documentary 13th.
My sister did an Ancestry.com DNA test, which revealed that we are about as white as we possibly be, mostly English and Irish. The one slight surprise was that we have a modest amount of Scandinavian heritage. To that end, to appropriate something that's not really mine, I find the Danish concept of hygge (which is having its cultural moment) particularly useful during these dark political days. I'm not talking about hand-felted hats and mittens and artisanal teas, which are lovely but material. Rather, If we are to survive the trump years, I think the value of hygge is being present, and appreciating connection. I am proud that my belated birthday celebration was a potluck singalong. It was so affirming that we will make it a regular event. Other friends have instituted salons where good people gather to read poetry, drink wine, and discuss how we live into our best, most inclusive values. These are all tonics and much needed to balance the work of marches and rallies, calling elected officials, and more obvious forms of civic engagement.
Marching, January 21, 2017
So I belt out "I'll Fly Away" with friends, and I look for hawks on bare tree branches, and we laugh when the goofy kitten nibbles on dead flowers, leaving her chin and nose covered in turmeric-yellow pollen. And we go to the Safe Sanctuaries organizational meeting at church and we call Rhode Island's congressional delegation and we celebrate this remarkable world even in the face of fear and hate. We persist. I visited my river sanctuary spot a couple of weeks ago on a much colder day. The log that my night-crowned heron friend sits on was entirely frozen over. But the water was still rushing forward.
Ten Mile River, February 2017
And as the snow has melted in the past few days, I can see that the green shoots of bulbs are slowly making their way above ground.
Soon there will be daffodils.
Here's to little victories. Skol!
Love, Kelley
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