Tomorrow will be just two
weeks since the country turned upside down like the ocean liner in The Poseidon Adventure and we’re hanging
desperately from the floor that just became the ceiling. Only two weeks and so
much has happened. I was personally going through a difficult period before all
this, and I still am. Maybe that’s why I can’t figure out what to do now. Or
maybe it’s a separate response to the election on one hand and the tragic death
of Gwen Ifill on the other, as well as all the turmoil, nastiness, and
unimaginable weirdness. Maybe it’s a combination of the two. I don’t know; my
feelings, like those of so many others, are bruised and confused.
For a week before the
election, while the pollsters told us Hillary had it in the bag, my intuition
told me that by some maniacal miracle Trump would win – which he did, thanks to
the outmoded, exclusionary-by-design Electoral College. (Can you picture the “This
system is rigged!” tantrum Trump would have had if he lost despite getting 1.5 million
more popular votes than Clinton?) In addition, on several occasions I got a
vague mental image of Hillary Clinton dressed
in purple, making a speech.
Under the circumstances,
these confirmations that my ability as an Intuitive is still functioning even though
my heart and mind are off-kilter, were of no comfort. And no new veils are
dropping, except – and of course
we’ll never know if this happens – I have the feeling Trump will secretly turn
to Clinton for advice on certain matters. I also have visions of the Electoral
College reversing the decision, but that’s not a premonition, just a delightful
fantasy that sometimes cheers me up.
Basically, I’m on the
proverbial horns of a dilemma. All my life, given what I am and how I was
raised, I’ve had strong feelings about politics and the social/cultural issues
that have a life-altering impact on them – and vice versa. Always alert and
concerned and active in whatever way I could be, on many fronts. I believed the
few drops I added to the social bucket would make a difference and perhaps they
did. In my professional endeavors too: I know I’ve done high-quality,
worthwhile work in some of my projects as a business writer, and as a Tarot
reader/ordained spiritual counselor. I know I’ve been a good, supportive,
useful friend to a lot of people. Despite my personal insecurities, past and present, I know I’m a
good person and have functioned as a good citizen. But I fear something
fundamental in me has snapped. I’m completely deflated. I still care, but I
don’t believe caring makes a difference now, even though I recognize that concern
and action are needed now more than ever.
Almost everything of
collective importance has changed for the worse since the 21st
Century started with the Y2K scare. That
turned out to be nothing. What actually has happened in less than 20 years,
worldwide, is real, and mostly really bad. In addition to the violence and
oppression that have killed/displaced millions around the world, we have a bunch
of other appalling problems. The globalization we thought would unite and
enrich the world is actually dividing us instead. Economic inequity is creating
desperation and craziness. The insanity of terrorism is in some ways succeeding,
breeding a true sense of terror and irrational responses. Old hates, prejudices,
and their accompanying brutality and injustice have rejuvenated. Plus, the
communications technology and social media most people live by have taken a
dark, dangerous turn that’s only now being noticed – barely – thanks to fake
news and hateful cyber incivility. I
could detail all the issues and recent incidents, but you know what they are.
In the face of this
real-life horror movie/political satire, I don’t know where to find the
strength to move forward, keep hanging tough from the new floor-ceiling. I feel
like a sick, hardly-mobile, old woman – which I am. I feel disconnected and
isolated – which I am. Since the start of 2000, I haven’t been able to
acclimate myself to the aspects of the New Normal I despise. I was happy about
the social progress made during the past few years. But I didn’t trust it,
because I knew it could be reversed in the blink of a conservative eye – and
now I’m afraid some or all of it might be. There are several categories of
people I’m very frightened for.
I’ve been reading
insightful columnists and watching the news, press conferences, and discussions
among smart, right-thinking (in my opinion) people: artists, writers, activists
et al, speaking with positive determination about the urgency of fully
populated, well organized, peaceful/legal civic action. They’re sad and scared
too, but unwavering about being vigilant, uniting, and fighting against anything
Trump tries to do to Make America Mayberry Again. I want to emulate their hope
and courage. I want to be who I’ve always been. But I can’t muster my usual fortitude.
Maybe as time warps along and we have a better understanding of what’s really
happening, maybe after this unprecedented, muddled, shocking,
conflict-of-interest-ridden transition becomes an actual administration with a
definite stated agenda, I’ll have more clarity and be able to marshal greater
energy. I hope so.
I apologize for being in
bummer mode instead of posting here as an encouraging cheerleader. And you? How
are you coping? What are you doing? What’s keeping you going? If it’s the
future for your kids and/or grandkids, don’t tell me: I get that obvious drive.
Love, family, and community are what generally keep people forging ahead. But I
don’t have that, and feel socially obsolete and estranged as well. So where is the
motivation supposed to come from? I’d much rather be a civic soldier than a heartsick
sad sack but I’m losing my grip on the floor-ceiling. And I just heard on the
news that a massive earthquake nearly turned Japan upside down.
Any suggestions?
