"What a difference a day makes." Early this week saw heavy rains in Minnesota. Yesterday, however, cleared up entirely and was one of the most gloriously beautiful days I have ever seen anywhere. Clear blue skies, light west winds, and brilliant green lawns, trees and shrubs finally coming out. Our lilacs are close to popping, and other flowers have started. The only disadvantage of winds from the prairies is that in my older age, I seem to have developed allergies. Lovely to feel the warmth, less so to feel the congestion.
Then last night, in the middle of the night, the wind shifted again, this time around from the east, and, at about 40 mph, sent doors and exhaust fans banging, and cold lake air in the windows. It's almost like not needing to hop a plane in order to travel from the midwest to the tundra.
In terms of interior "weather", I have found it almost impossible to cry, despite having been trying to wrap my head around the omnipresent violence of our world, and its presence in my system recently catching up to me. Odd little snippets of memories...most of my life, I have not been able to watch movies about war or conflict, Westerns, thrillers, etc. At the very least, I've had to avert my eyes during the bloodiest content. On more than one occasion, people have condescendingly made fun of me -- "C'mon, Liz, it's just a movie. This is just acting, it's not real. Stop being a baby." Well, it feels "real" to me, to my sensitivities. My heart and body experience it as real, as a shot to my own heart, and I believe the pain gets trapped within me. Other shaming came from not being able to operate well in our "kill or be killed" economic system: I can still hear being told to "put my big girl pants on". And at the time, I certainly felt ashamed, although I now realize that my issue wasn't not wanting to grow up or be decisive, powerful, or successful. It was ethical problems with the larger system, and finding it too conflict-driven. At the time, I curled up into a little ball within, trying to find a place safe from attack. Some of my tears appear to still be in there, and I need to be patient with myself, and let them emerge when they will, not on demand.
But the wind has shifted enough that I'm feeling increasingly confident in the path away from these harsh realities. We've all been inured to a high level of violence, yet I can easily envision a world where conflict would be an obscene exception, where fighting (in effect) for money and a living would be considered bizarre. In fact, I think this is happening as we speak. In any event, that new world is the world I want to live in, and always have. I used to use a lot of sailing lingo in this blog, and so in these shifting winds and choppy waters, I'm "tacking" to head towards where I want to be, with nary a backward glance.
