Facing the music of presidential politics

 At daybreak today, as I rehung the bird feeders, I noticed a doe whitetail deer under the pear tree. Her bright Summer pelage almost glowed in an orange-tan-reddish shade. Since then the day has been interspersed with cloudy skies and intermittent showers and downpours. Not a day for outside chores.

So I proceeded to waste time and energy inside as I sipped coffee and scrolled through my Twitter timeline this morning. A Tweet that caught my eye noted that tRUMP has referred to Kamala Harris, the recently announced Democratic VP candidate, as a "Nasty woman." That reminded me of a concert the Better Half and I attended almost four years ago, in October 2016. Joan Baez was the performer and she appeared wearing a "Nasty woman" t-shirt. It was a follow-up to tRUMP's calling Hillary Clinton that appellation in the course (coarse?) of the final debate of the 2016 campaign.  That concert was the penultimate time we enjoyed the presence and live voice of Ms. Baez. We saw her again in October 2018, in her Fare Thee Well tour, after the country had endured almost two years under a #FakePresident who obviously lacked the necessary qualifications to fulfill even the most basic responsibilities of the position.

Joan Baez, October 2016

Photo by J. Harrington

Times had been much better a decade or so before that, when we [the Better Half and I and many others] had enjoyed one of Bob Dylan's few remaining appearances in Minnesota on November 4 (Election Day) at Northrop Auditorium, about the time Barack Obama was first elected President.

To be candid, it hurts remembering those good times when I now look about at a country beset by climate breakdown, an out of control pandemic, compounded by a failed kleptocratic regime that has no idea how to do anything but line its own pockets and attempt to become an aristocracy autocracy. [According to Sarah Kendzior, in Hiding In Plain Sight, "Kleptocracy literally means 'rule by thieves.',,, (it) goes hand in hand with autocracy—a system of government in which one ruler holds absolute control..."]

But now we have, for the first time ever, a woman who is "the first African American and the first Asian American to be chosen as the running mate of a major party's presidential candidate." The prospect of her election triggers my memories of the lyrics from one of Dylan's wonderful songs "But even the president of the United States / Sometimes must have to stand naked." It will be interesting to watch what we get to see happen between November 3, 2020 and late January 2021 as the world gets to watch a would-be Emperor become obviously naked.

I hadn't realized how significant a role music has come to play (sorry, couldn't resist) in my adult life until writing this post. Music, and poetry (Dylan, the Nobel Laureate, conveniently provides that crossover) feed my heart. Mostly everything else feeds my head (thank you, Grace Slick and The White Rabbit). Fortunately, Joy Harjo teaches those of us who need it how to bring heart and head together together in poems such as today's

For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet 

Joy Harjo - 1951-

Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.

Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control.

Open the door, then close it behind you.

Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.

Give it back with gratitude.

If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back.

Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire.

Let your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians who have known you before time, who will be there after time. They sit before the fire that has been there without time.

Let the earth stabilize your postcolonial insecure jitters.

Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you.
Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.

Don’t worry.
The heart knows the way though there may be high-rises, interstates, checkpoints, armed soldiers, massacres, wars, and those who will despise you because they despise themselves.

The journey might take you a few hours, a day, a year, a few years, a hundred, a thousand or even more.

Watch your mind. Without training it might run away and leave your heart for the immense human feast set by the thieves of time.

Do not hold regrets.

When you find your way to the circle, to the fire kept burning by the keepers of your soul, you will be welcomed.

You must clean yourself with cedar, sage, or other healing plant.

Cut the ties you have to failure and shame.

Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction.

Ask for forgiveness.

Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.

Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.

You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return.

Speak to it as you would to a beloved child.

Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.

Your spirit will need to sleep awhile after it is bathed and given clean clothes.

Now you can have a party. Invite everyone you know who loves and supports you. Keep room for those who have no place else to go.

Make a giveaway, and remember, keep the speeches short.

Then, you must do this: help the next person find their way through the dark. 

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