After a day of inauguration coverage, it was a relief to go to Friday night services at my synagogue, and sing about love and peace and peoplehood, embracing minor keys and unresolved endings with my whole heart. Others raise their voices in protest, at marches, in violence, in artistry, in soaring speech. I sing.
“Spread a canopy of peace, a canopy of love, for everyone!”
The whole past year has been stressful, but in the background there was always the hope that things would get ironed out and government would recede in the national attention to third or fourth most covered topic, at least behind the Kardashians. Instead, we have the constant barrage of tweets that is Trumpiness, or should that be Trumpitude, or Trumptasia? Maybe you need to be on LSD to appreciate this particular era in United States politics.
The fact that newscasters find themselves speculating on where Trump is sitting when he does his middle of the night tweets, is alarming. They seem to have come to the conclusion that he has colitis, or irritable bowel syndrome, given the number of missives sent into the ether.
It feels like we’re living inside of a movie spoof, like the Airplane movies, or something by the Wayans brothers, and everyone’s keeping a straight face while they read their craziest lines of dialogue. A lot of people seem to be energized by all of this, ready to fight and make a stand, in whichever direction. My Facebook newsfeed is filled with writing friends who are adamant and active in their beliefs. My synagogue is humming with discussions and plans and sign up lists. But I feel lost in the chaos.
I feel like I need a whole new vocabulary to help me understand the ways the world is changing every day, words like, Trumpism, and Trumpification, are a place to start. When Trumpcare is created to replace Obamacare, maybe doctors will come up with a new drug, let’s call it Trumpium, a combination of Valium and Opium, to help us all manage the next few years. Trumptastic! Well, at least until impeachment, when I guess we’ll have to think of some new words to make out of “Pence.”
I still feel like hiding under the couch, with Cricket, or overeating with Butterfly (though I draw the line at eating kibble, for now).
I don’t feel empowered, or energized, or clear headed, except when I get a chance to sing:
“We are loved, loved, loved, by unending love, an unending love!”
For a few moments, while we were singing together on Friday night, I felt like everything might be okay.
Every dog has its day, even dogs who didn’t vote for DJT.
We have been watching ‘Trumpton’ with interest here in good old Blighty. Don’t hide under the couch. Let’s all join together singing about love, light and hope.
It helps to have people to sing with!
Then keep on singing! And feeling the hope, since that’s exactly what oppressive powers don’t want you to feel.
And my personal advice, reject as you like, is to join a march if you get a chance. Being surrounded by others who see the same threats you do is an encouraging thing. Facing it alone is….not.
Best wishes, and you’re not alone!
It is in God’s hands. Instead of hoping our new president fails, we should pray for him and our nation.
I think LSD would make one more paranoid =P I’ve felt depressed and apathetic ever since the election. And counteractively, the march made me worry all this political activism energy would just burn out all the faster because of its fiery enthusiasm.
I sing along to music to improve my mood too. Sing for hope! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xeQD9QwYC5M maybe you’ll like this too) I hope he doesn’t do as much damage as he wants, but I can’t look away and pretend it’s not happening, as a scientist, as a woman, as a biracial person of color, as a grand/child of immigrants. I want to hold him accountable for the decisions and actions he makes.
I love your Newspeak!
Humorous in a sad reality kind of way, Trumpadation trepidation. I’ve been trying to sing away the blues too. I’ve been obsessed with the song from West Side Story… https://youtu.be/RdUzDi-hs-I
When the women of the world start to march in numbers then, surely, we are all in so much trouble!
Yes…so very much this. You have singing, I have drawing, and somehow we will make it through this. Somewhere amidst the scary murkiness of it all I have hope we’ll all be better and stronger for it somehow too – but it’s really hard to see how we’re gonna get there from here. Somehow! Onward. We can do this.
Deep breath. Deep breath. Trying not to faint from all of the deep breaths.
Yep. Exactly. I’m right there with you, so just keep on breathing. We’ll get through this.
Like-minded new blogger, happy to have stumbled across your site! My 3rd post (spoiler it involves Spanx and The Donald) coming up on Saturday. We have to laugh or we will cry, no? 🙂 -Marie aka: http://www.goldisfromaliens.com
Can I just join you and Cricket under the bed? I had to re-read this again – so true (still).
How ever can I concentrate on what you write when those adorable pooches so disarm me with doggy cuteness? It’s a challenge, I tell ya! 😄
They challenge me every day.
Reading this in 2021, it looks like he will try to continue to weasel his way into the daily news despite the fatigue he has caused us all.
Oy. Will it ever end?