At some point, one just has to get out of the funk. One just has to say OK, kid, wash your face, comb your hair and put down the junk food, it’s time to see the sun again. Today could be that day. Ding dong the witch is dead. Or maybe she’s just been locked in her castle. There’s still a chance she can wreak havoc. All those flying monkeys with their Back the Blue and Don’t Tread on Me flags. They are just thinly veiled swastikas, their hot breath of hate in your face, snarling in the wind.
I am tired in a way that I never knew I could be. I think it’s my age. I feel really old. Especially this year. I feel it in my knees and I see it under my eyes. And where did these back rolls come from? I feel it in my never ending desire to stick my middle finger up at the TV. How did I get here?
I am disappointed. I am angry. I am in mourning. 400,000 Americans are gone today. Some of them I knew. It didn’t have to get to this. It still could get worse.
So where does the positive, uplifting part come in? That remains to be seen. I have faith. 4 years is a long time for hate to thrive. It’s been really hard to watch, even harder to watch Christians fan the flames of hate and division while simultaneously lamenting about how the world suppresses them, hates them. I am one of them and I don’t see it. I live in a country with freedoms and I have never felt my faith suppressed. I am free to practice my faith. What I’m not free to do is make you practice my faith, subject you to my beliefs.
Today is a new day. It’s a good day. I’m going to let some of my anger dissipate today. I’ve been trying to do that more and more.
One of my favorite Bible verses is James 1:9
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger
My middle finger needs to read that again, also that part of my brain that defaults to the “F” word in quick succession, and the parts of my face that sqinches up in disgust, highlighting the lines around my eyes, in between my nose, and around my mouth. That queasy feeling in my stomach also needs to read that again.
Let me leave you with a positive story. Heartwarming if you will. Of course it involves my mom. I know I should get over her loss, too, but alas I am a work in progress and that shit isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So my mom left a bin full of fairy garden houses, little miniature chairs, tables, fences, and figures. She was planning to make a garden with my kids, but never got a chance to do it. During the pandemic, me and the kids took out that bin and we made a fairy garden.
We actually had to move all the figures and houses and little furniture after a big rainstorm because where we first placed the garden got washed out. So we placed it around a tree that we planted in her honor after she died This was such a better place anyway. I have added other houses and figures and the fairy garden expands all the time. I have hung lights in the tree, bird houses that we’ve painted, and Christmas ornaments. It’s actually quite obnoxious and it’s in our front yard, but it gives me joy and makes me smile. I think it makes the kids smile, too. It’s hard to tell with them, they are getting older and that childlike twinkle is dimming.
I am trying to capture it in a bottle for all of us. The fairy garden does not invoke middle fingers or “F” words. I’d like to move in and live there forever. It’s an escape. I told the kids I’d like to put fairy gardens all over town, just collect little houses and figures from junk stores and put them in public places. They think I’m crazy, but I saw the twinkle in their eyes for a brief moment.
So keep your eyes out for little fairy towns near you (perhaps you would be inspired to do the same?). I hope you find ways to dissipate the yucky feelings that have wormed their way in over the past 4 years. I hope you find ways to listen, be slow to anger and quick to forgive. Here’s to better days ahead.