The Seventh Sense (2)

[Editor’s note: I wrote this little piece on December 12th in response to that day’s prompt from the annual poetry advent calendar by Two Sylvias Press.]

I wake to white crowned sparrows whispering together beneath the bougainvillea in the corner of my little courtyard. The light is just returning. I am wide awake in the early morning, unusual for me, no gradual coming back, no desire to turn over, sink back into sleep. I had a dream, and my body somehow knows it was big. I close my eyes again, lie still, hoping to bring it back. I am flying over a narrow market street, small shops with colorful awnings, people milling, filling the road, no cars. Morocco comes to mind. I have no idea why. It is a steep street, and I am flying low, heading downhill. I can see faces. No one seems alarmed by me. In waking life, I’ve always suspected we used to know how to fly. I think people escaped from Atlantis by flying when it sank into the sea. I believe there’s something in our heads that controls flight. Maybe the pineal gland? We used to be able to activate it at will, a lost art, like the ability to wiggle our ears. When I wake up I think, oh, flying is the seventh sense. And I wonder if there might be more.

Celebrate Imbolc on February 1st !!!!

Hello dear readers. :)

Just a little invitation to our next Full Circle gathering at 9:30am Pacific time on Sunday, February 1st!

Here’s the link with the details:

https://www.meetup.com/desert-people-practicing-writing-and-reiki-together/events/312229556/?eventOrigin=group_upcoming_events

This will be our third celebration, and the first two were very dear. I hope you’ll join us!

May we all be kind to ourselves.

Riba

Dear Governor Newsom, or Why Californians Need to Vote No on 50

Please vote no on 50. It only divides us. It’s just wrong.

Dear Governor Newsom,

I am 67 years old and have been on the left-leaning, progressive side of the political spectrum since before I could vote, and I suspect what I need to say is going to be wildly unpopular with the left. Yet here I am, asking you to reverse course and throw your weight against Proposition 50 instead, because it’s just wrong.

Can you please tell the voters of California that you made a mistake? That you changed your mind, came to your senses? That you understandably reacted passionately to the insidiousness of President Trump’s urging other states to gerrymander their districts to get him more votes, and in hindsight can see that you took the low road and want to regain the high road now instead?

California is one of the states that did the right thing some years ago, creating an independent commission to redraw our voting districts with each new census in order to make elections fair. Even though this proposition is “temporary,” these rigged districts, designed to help more Democrats win, would run through our 2030 election cycle. How can we possibly justify this? How would we feel if the tables were turned?

And this leads me to the heart of why I believe this is morally wrong. Doing this harms California Republicans. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to the Republican candidates running for office (especially those who are running for reelection in districts that will have been redrawn to help the Democratic candidates). Democrats hold a solid majority in this state, so in my mind, “rigging” the system to harm our Republican voters and candidates is completely unjust. And if it isn’t illegal and unconstitutional, it should be. Clearly we’re in a time in the United States where doing the illegal and the unconstitutional in government is happening everywhere we turn, and it scares the hell out of me. But that doesn’t make retaliating in this way right. We need to be moving away from the “us versus them” mentality, not exacerbating it.

Believe me, I want to put the brakes on, too. In my gut, I want to fight fire with fire. But the truth is, that never works. We have to find ways to stop President Trump’s disturbing maneuvers in ways that don’t have us committing the same sins, sins that can bring our democracy crashing down. It’s a terrible precedent. How low will we go? And can we even be certain our own rigged districts will elect more Democrats? I would not be surprised if all these machinations backfire. Can we not instead keep trying to find lawful, nonviolent and more creative ways to stop what’s happening?

I would have loved to see the money we’re spending on this special election to have gone instead to reinstate some of the existing services we recently denied our California residents who need them most (Republicans and Democrats alike), though I realize it’s too late now. Still, I would have such great respect for you if you were to reconsider this extreme and mean-spirited move and urge us now instead to vote no on Proposition 50. And then pull together the greatest minds and hearts you can gather from all across the political spectrum—the best strategic thinkers and those with the most integrity and the biggest hearts—and help us find fair, ingenious, ethical and effective ways to stop our president’s agenda.

Thanks very much for your time.

Riba

My Turning World (63)

Tonight my eyes are getting heavy and my heart lighter. It’s the first day of my month, the eve of my birthday, the ending of my year of blogging and this last week or so of crazed posting before I turn sixty-four. Like other important eves of the year, this one has me looking back. My last birthday was hard. It was harder to be connected to myself than it is now. And I was completely cut off from my own home, but now I am tethered to it again, and the song of my white-crowned sparrows and the young mama hummingbird taking a bath and the new generation of lizards there in my courtyard are all part of the fabric of me again even though I am still living away from them. Now I get to visit. I get to know they don’t all think I’ve abandoned them anymore. And now I have lizard friends here, too, and my red-tailed hawk family, my two ravens and the Cooper’s hawk. I even have my mother’s white-crowned sparrows here, though they never serenade in the same way. Tonight I feel a little silly for not being able to let go of it but so glad, too, that I did not abandon my blog after all. And I feel hopeful for the year to come. And grateful, always, for each of you, coming by to read my work—and caring.

Someday (48)

My orchid plant
and tiny shoots of the cactus
I brought home from Ajijic in 2009
sit beside each other on top of
the toilet tank
in my bathroom here
in my mother’s house
(together with the little
green plastic dinosaur who came home with me
from the hostel in the Marin Headlands)
and every now and then
especially after I water them
I stop and really take them in
rescued from my trailer home
by my dear friends
and somehow dear friends
themselves now, too
and talismans or hope or
living proof my little home
still awaits us all.

Spontaneous Combustion? (43)

“For God’s sake,” Biden says
“this man cannot remain in power.”
I don’t have all the details
(unwise, maybe, for a president)
but it makes me like him more.

In Solidarity (40)

These bands of blue and yellow
must be Ukraine’s flag, I think
when I see them
in the Lalo Alcaraz strip today
How do we sit
inside ourselves
with this?
(How do we fit inside our skin?)