Voters' First Guide To The Galaxy: Unlocking Universal Secrets
Navigating a world that has demonized the only solution that is humanly possible.
On nights like tonight, the ocean is full. Ever the unapologetically sumptuous mistress, it swells and thrusts itself at the shore.
I walk the beach before night falls, limping so as to be gentle with the still-ugly, freshly stitched wound in my calf where the doctor carved out cancer along with a hunk of my leg (oof); and the swollen inner thigh, tender to the touch from lymph node extraction.
The brooding, grey sky doesn’t ask permission for its moodiness; nor does it take accountability for the dense, suffocating air. There is a cool, light breeze; one that remains on-call for the season, yet somehow each deep breath in still feels like swallowing the hot, slightly stale, leftover fog of summer.
What I mean to say is, it's heavy out here. There isn’t a hurricane, but there is no doubt that a storm is coming.
It is too much to say that this election will change everything; and too little to say that it won’t.
Nature, the Darling Vixen
The sun disappears and I rest on the third floor with the door to the balcony wide open, watching the billowy drapes dance, brought to life with each inhale and exhale of the sea.
There are times to act, and times to wait, and times when neither of those make sense.
Listening to the persistent whisper of the dry palm-tree fronds just outside, I could swear they have the answers that none of us do.
But, alas.
Nature bears its own burdens, teasing, yet offering no reprieve from its commitment to silence. An eternity (give or take) of natural history, silenced, hidden, muffled. Sworn to a level of secrecy that perpetually drives me crazy.
Our very existence summoned equal parts from nothing, from something, from everything. Supposedly.
There are clues, yes.
But, seriously. Fuck off with your snake in a garden that (miraculously) leads to men being in charge of women; but also fuck off with your selective discussions of carbon dating, painting it as a far more scientifically reliable tool than it actually is.
Why can’t we admit the cracks in our stories, the faults in our methodologies? We question each other relentlessly - yet patiently, tenderly, gloss over the fallacies in our own understandings.
I am a scientist, an engineer, a seeker of truth and answers. I don’t discount our valiant attempts to understand - but why can’t we, why can’t I, sit with it when we just don’t fucking know?
Why does humanity insist on inventing bullshit to fill in the gaps?
Time to Vote
I know who I will vote for, and I will weep with the birth of fresh hope if they win this election.
But hatred towards one another is just as destructive whether it leans left and attacks right, or leans right and attacks left.
Both sides, screaming, pointing, expertly birthing accusations. Grenades balanced on lily pads, bobbing lightly in the moonlight. We have choice, and collectively we choose to litter the world with darkness when we know that we already have far more than we can possibly bear.
I don’t stand in the way of your fight, your passion, your intent. Nor mine. But I refuse to believe this is the only way.
Answers Abound, If We Look
We fail, too often, to look up. We default to figurative language but I mean truly, literally - step outside and look up.
We struggle to stop attacking one another for long enough…
We fear sitting quietly with a celestial sea of darkness that, while gushing notes of abundance from its infinite nature, largely represents a place of lack.
Lack of air, lack of water (mostly), lack of control by familiar means, lack of life. Death. The silent menace that feeds our nightmares also envelops our delicate blue-green miracle of a home.
If we did sit quietly with that darkness, we’d be forced to admit how few answers we actually have.
We wax (eloquently, at times) about acceptance of our individual imperfections, about the value of ‘our journey’ (cue: flowers, music, Insta-worthy scenery) and how we can’t possibly be expected to have all the answers.
What hubris, then, is required to give that grace - that space to change, evolve, grow - to ourselves, yet not to the rest of the human race?
Are we celebrating our hard won self-proclaimed arrival at being enough (angels singing) while we point jagged fingers at the other side demanding that they know it all at the right time, aligned in accordance with a billion unique timelines that we have each christened correct to match our own gradual, stepped, pace of ongoing growth?
Should we pat ourselves on the back for having ‘the courage to write with messy authenticity’ while simultaneously spewing vitriol at the other side for not agreeing with our theses on… well, practically everything?
Oh, please.
Let us spare ourselves from such self indulgent bile if we can’t summon the energy to work towards attitudes of understanding for someone other than ourselves or our clones.
Walk outside and look up.
I expect grenades to come over the wall heading my way after this.
But that doesn’t change the fact that the difference between red and blue is measured in billionths of a meter, whereas the chasm between humanity and everything else is measured in life or death.
The vast vacuum of space is real and, paradoxically, I know no better source of grounding than that dark, chilling void that barters so unmercifully with our perceptions of knowledge, wisdom, strength, and life itself.
Grace Upon Grace
Give grace freely, exorbitantly, to one another.
The same for love.
Here, I fail before I’ve even begun. Fed up with your hatred, do I spew nearly the same?
So, start again.
And again and again and again.
Grace, and grace again… is (dare I say) always the eventual right answer.
Much like the stars in the sky, examine the trillions of cells in your body working separately, yet together, within the context of distinct, intricate systems and understand that we were programmed to thrive, not despite - but because of our differences.
We trivialize our shared DNA, our collective assignment to represent the literal human species. As you vote, and in the days and weeks that follow, let the reality of our dependencies upon one another stay at the forefront of your words and actions.
Our abilities to know ourselves, to speak our truths, to proactively strive for change are no more than self imposed prisons if they are not accompanied by the ability to unceasingly seek to accept and love those who disagree.
This election season, go outside. I implore you.
Look up.
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Beautifully said. I’ve been looking up more and love what I see/feel for a we view a moment of togetherness
It’s true we have enough dark
We can disagree without destroying each others scar tissue
💜
"It is too much to say that this election will change everything; and too little to say that it won’t." Spot on. The choice seems to be to destroy the system or to keep the system going that caused so many to vote for destruction. Bernie, by the way, sees both sides, respects both sides and wants to fix the system that caused so much discontent.