Tuesday, November 19, 2024

The Night Crescent, Helios, 31st Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.


Rainy day. Light rain when I woke up, heavier midday, on and off in the afternoon and into the evening.

You can argue that everyday for this Retired Old Man is a lazy day, and you'd probably be right. But I usually have at least one little chore that I've set myself, and my alternating schedule of walking hikes and sitting meditation takes anywhere from 1½ to 4 hours. So I'm not exactly busy, but I'm not totally idle either.

But today, I decided to do nothing. Jack shit, nothing. All summer, I found brief interludes in the rain when I could get my steps in, but today I didn't even try. Probably wouldn't have worked anyway. I could have switched up my alternating routine and sat zazen today even though I did just yesterday and then walk tomorrow, but that didn't happen. I vegged out, made my morning coffee ritual an approximately four-hour affair, played hours and hours of video games while listening to music, and then fell into the evening. 

Nothing wrong with a day of slack. The forecast shows the rain going away by noon tomorrow, and I'll get back to walking then. 

Monday, November 18, 2024

Day of Slack Rains, Electra, 30th of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

I don't experience time the way you probably do.

Many people take that to mean something about the relativity of time as one gets older. To me, a year represents only 1/70th of my life, while to, say, my grandson-in-law, it represents 1/5th. A year is an eternity to him; it's but a blink of the eye to me.

But that's not what I'm talking about. Most people believe that time moves at a steady rate - we advance into the future at a constant clip of one second per second, and it's always that way. Scientific observations and theory depend on this common-sense assumption.  Most people would agree that sometimes time feels like it's moving slower or faster - slower if you're anticipating something, faster if you're enjoying something and not paying attention to the clock. But those, it's argued, are just psychological perceptions of time. It's still moving along a steady 1 sec/sec regardless of whether we feel like it's going fast or slow.

I believe time really does go slower when it's experienced that way, and faster when that seems to be the case. While most people feel as if they're floating down a metaphorical river of time -  carried by the constant, ever-present, and inescapable currents of time - I feel that time is just in our mind and is being carried along by us. We are not traveling through time; time is quite literally controlled by our perception of it.  

It's one thing to accept that statement as a philosophical precept and another to actually experience it, just like it's one thing to believe in an afterlife but another to live eternally. But that's where the practice of meditation comes in.

My practice recently has been to sit for 90 minutes every other day (I take my walking hikes on the days in between). While I sit, time sometimes goes very, even excruciatingly, slow. When, oh when, is that timer finally going to ring? It seems like it's been forever.

But when the 90 minutes finally is over, it's as if no time had passed at all. Nothing happened during those 90 minutes - I didn't do anything and the world didn't present itself to me in any narrative form. Just sitting there, one can't compose a "and then that next thing happened" story. I sit down, nothing happens, and then the bell rings, I get up, and the world (and time) resumes. 1:30 pm becomes 3:00 just as suddenly as if I merely turned the clock forward. 

Time was simultaneously moving very, very slow, and also flash-forwarding by an hour and a half. Two conflicting impressions present themselves to me at the same time. The only way to reconcile the paradox is to accept that time isn't linear, it's what you perceive it to be. 

Several years ago, I was stageside at the Doug Fir Lounge in Portland, Oregon, waiting for Spencer Krug's band, Moonface, to perform. Near me, an intense-looking young man with wild hair was furiously scribbling some sort of notes into a pad. It appeared like he was having such intense insights and revelations, he could barely keep up with himself and was frantically trying to record as much as he could. He might have been having a breakdown or psychotic episode for all I knew, or he might have been in the throes of sudden enlightenment. 

I decided to mess with him and tell him something "profound" to see how'd he'd react. Not coming up with anything deeper to say, I told him, "We aren't in time, time is in us."

It worked and he took the bait. "Holy shit, you're right," he said, and began scribbling some more in his notepad. While this was happening, Krug himself was on stage but a few feet away putting the finishing touches on his equipment setup before his show. He noticed the intense young man's reaction, and asked him what I had just told him.

"We aren't in time, time is in us," the young man told Krug.

And I'll never forget the words that Krug said in response to this. Spenser Krug, singer, songwriter, guitarist, and frontman of the band Moonface (and member of other bands as well), looked at me and said one simple word:

"Whatever."

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Day of the Cliff, Deneb, 29th of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.


The always astute and informative historian Heather Cox Richardson points out that the current political opposition to the federal Department of Education has its roots not in the actions of the department itself but in Supreme Court decisions declaring segregation unconstitutional and banning prayer in public schools.

As a reminder, the Department of Education does not set school curricula - that's done at the state and local level. "Return it to the States," Trump says, but the "it" in question is already done at the STate level. The Department of Ed provides federal funding for high-poverty public schools and for students with disabilities, and oversees the federal student-loan program. It also collects data on student performance and promotes practices based on the statistical evidence. 

Congress established the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare in 1953 under Republican president Dwight D. Eisenhower to improve Americans’ overall well-being in the post–World War II period. Congress later split the office into two departments, the Dept. of Health and Human Services and the Dept. of Education, in May 1980 under Democratic president Jimmy Carter.

What upsets the radical right, though, is that the Department of Education is also in charge of prohibiting discrimination on the basis of race and sex in schools that get federal funding, a policy Congress set in 1975. Between that policy, the May 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, and court decisions in 1962 and 1963 declaring prayer in schools unconstitutional, white evangelicals have became convinced that public schools are a menace. 

Ronald Reagan ran on a promise to eliminate the Department of Education. He failed, and Trump later put right-wing evangelical Betsy DeVos in charge of Education. Like Reagan before her, DeVos also called for eliminating the department and asked for massive cuts in education spending. Instead of funding, she promoted the idea of "vouchers" to reimburse parents for sending their children to private schools.

After Trump lost the 2020 election, Moms for Liberty began demanding that LGBTQ-themed books be banned from school libraries, and right-wing activists promoted the false idea that public-school teachers were indoctrinating their students with critical race theory, a theory taught as an elective in law school to explain why desegregation laws had not ended racial discrimination. Nevertheless, legislators considered laws to ban the teaching of CRT or to limit how teachers can talk about racism and sexism, saying that existing curricula caused white children to feel guilty.

During the 2024 presidential campaign, Trump focused on the idea that transgender students were playing high-school sports despite the already existing restrictions on that practice, and insisted that public schools were performing gender-transition surgery on students. As ludicrous as the idea is, former Fox News host Megyn Kelly insisted on HBO's Real Time that "we are chopping off the healthy body parts of young children —100 percent we are doing that." When audience members reacted with boos and hisses, host Bill Maher stated, "We are definitely doing that. That's what it is. I don't know what the ooing is about."

We're not doing that. Trump's campaign speeches talked about disappointed parents who sent their kids off to school only to have them return at the end of the day with a different gender. That's not happening. Anywhere. No matter how insistent Kelly and Maher and Trump are about it. 

So there I go again - another political rant despite my insistence to not. There's nothing I can do to change the incoming administration's attitude toward the Department of Education and to be honest, it doesn't affect me directly - I'm not in school and I don't have children in school. My only stake in this debate lies in the Jeffersonian ideal that education is fundamental to the functioning of a free and fair democracy, that only educated people can accurately evaluate the governmental policies that will truly benefit them. For instance, Richardson points out that Republican-dominated states receive significantly more federal money for education than Democratic-dominated states do, although the Democratic states contribute significantly more tax dollars.  

There's nothing I can do to change the incoming administration's attitude toward Education, but I can manage my own reactions better by calmly discussing it here.

Saturday, November 16, 2024

The Mindless Eternal, Castor, 28th Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.


Things come around again in response to those who didn't learn from history and are now doomed to repeat it. 

Pictures form eight years ago today. Can't believe we have to do this all over again.



Friday, November 15, 2024

Day of the Mounds, Betelgeuse, 27th of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

I may be minimizing my news-watching hours, but I still scored 100% on this week's NY Times' weekly news quiz. That should serve as an indicator of how pervasive coverage of current events has become.

I logged 7.5 miles on today's walk. I hiked the Cochran Shoals loop, but didn't take in Sibley Pond or the old Sope Creek paper mill ruins. I guess I'm channeling my news-watching energy into walking mileage. 

I've been listening recently to Bob Holmes' Ambient Country podcast. The music includes a lot of artists I've been listening to for a while, Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois, Mary Lattimore, Walt McClements, and of course, Holmes' band, Suss.   Many of the artists from the podcast (not Eno) will be at Big Ears next March, something to look forward to in these trying times.    

Thursday, November 14, 2024

The Subtle Cabinet, Atlas, 26th Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

Trump is our next president, much to my profound disappointment, and the shitshow has already begun. From stomach-turning cabinet nominations to his refusal to sign the ethics pledge legally required by the Presidential Transition Act, the deplorable actions of the Twenty-Teens are already returning. Yes, the circus is back in town, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy the monkeys.

To be honest, my mental health vis a vis depression is already a tenuous thing, and I don't want or need to get pulled back into the despair and daily outrage I experienced from 2016 (and earlier) to 2020 (and beyond). I refuse to binge-watch the pundits on MSNBC all day telling me exactly why the latest proclamation is so upsetting, or doomscroll through social media for hours on end as each commenter tries to one-up the outrage of the next. I'm not going to indulge in the anger and the resentment that I did during his first administration.

I'm not approving of his politics and policies, though. Far from it. I'm just going to control my reactions to the abysmal events that will unfold over the next several years rather than let those events and news cycles control me. And if you think I'm choosing ignorance over an informed opinion, you're wrong. I can keep abreast of current events through casual reading and news watching. In fact, it's pretty much unavoidable in this current, wired, digital age. 

If you see a post here from time to time protesting some new policy or current event, it doesn't mean I've abandoned my vow. But I'm going to try, as best I can, to comment on a calm and rational basis on injustices I see in the world, both nationally and abroad. 

The Stoics emphasized recognition and distinction between things you can control and things you can't. I can't control the actions of the Chief Executive of the United States. The Buddha taught that one cause of suffering is clinging to the delusion that things are different than they really are. My beloved country has willfully installed a fascistic dictator into its highest office, and pretending that's not the case, or that it's alright, only hurts myself. Accepting that I can't change the election but can only govern my own behavior and actions in the difficult times ahead is the only rational course.

And this I will try.

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Day of the Given, Helios, 25th of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.


After Monday's hike along the Appalachian and Benton MacKaye Trails, today's walk in the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area felt like nothing. Even the hills I had thought of as "challenging" (and had seen mountain bikers huffing and puffing to ascend) were an easy effort. 

I had so much energy I pushed myself a little further and undertook a few extra miles to explore the old mill ruins along Sope Creek. In all, I walked 10.3 miles today, a record for this year - and for more years than I care to admit if I'm being honest about it.

Again, pics or it didn't happen: 



Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Ascendant Eye, Electra, 24th Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

A Louisiana law requiring every public school classroom in the state to display the Ten Commandments has been halted by a federal judge. These are hard times and we need to celebrate the minor victories, even temporary ones, while we can.

Monday, November 11, 2024

The Wander Stones, Deneb, 23rd Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.


I hiked the Three Forks Loop Trail in the Chattahoochee National Forest today with my daughter and son-in-law.

The trail is a 4.4-mile loop starting on the Appalachian Trail from Three Forks, where Stover Creek, Long Creek, and Chester Creek all come together. The AT follows Stover Creek for a mile or so and then begins an ascent up Rich Mountain (3,297 feet), really more of a long ridge than a mountain. After about 2.5 miles, the AT reaches the summit of Rich Mountain, where it crosses the Benton MacKaye Trail. The loop follows the BMT along the Rich Mountain ridgetop and then back down to Three Forks.

Trail guides list the loop as 4.4 miles, but my iPhone insists I walked 5 miles. My daughter's odometer recorded 5.5 miles. 

It was generally an overcast day, but the sun managed to break through from time to time.  Foliage was supposed to be at a peak right now, but for the most part the leaves had already fallen and the trees were bare. It was still a beautiful day and a beautiful hike, though. And any opportunity to converse with nature is preferable to sitting home watching the news and getting agitated over social media.

Pics or it didn't happen:    



Sunday, November 10, 2024

The Red Hand, Castor, 22nd Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

The Sports Desk is posting here again today.

A previous post explained the concept of the lineal championship belt, an imaginary reward that's passed from team to team in college football going back to the very first football game ever played. It's literally a long story (over 150 years) but to get to the point, the Georgia Bulldogs won it away from Texas back on October 19 (Electra, Fifth Day of the Hammer, 74th of Autumn in the Universal Solar Calendar).

Our reign didn't last long. Yesterday, the Ole Miss Rebels won the belt away from Georgia in an unlovely, 28-10 ass-whipping.

The road to winning the belt back is not yet apparent. It's not mathematically impossible but highly, highly unlikely the two teams will face each other in the SEC championship (it's far more likely neither team will be in the championship game). It's possible the two teams will face each other again in the College Football Playoffs, but there's still at least three more regular-season games before the qualifying teams and the seeding is known. 

It's entirely possible that some other team will win the belts away from Ole Miss before Georgia gets a chance to win them back from the Rebels. We may have to wait until after the playoffs and until the 2025 regular season schedules are announced before we can plot a path to get the belts back again. 

But be assured that as soon as that path is known, I'll be reporting it here.

Saturday, November 09, 2024

Day of the Iron Crown, Betelgeuse, 21st of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

 

I ran into my "friend" again on my walk along the Beltline. I hadn't seen him since the day before when he walked away angry after I told him he was pronouncing "Kamala" wrong. 

He was walking towards me and in an attempt to be friendly, to show that there were no hard feelings, I broke onto a big, broad smile and pointed him out. Lest pointing be misconstrued to be aggressive or somehow insulting, I then lifted my hand and flashed him a peace sign.

Apparently, there still are hard feelings. "Just leave it at that," he said as he walked past me. "Just leave it at that."

My total walking mileage since the beginning of the year is now 762 miles. A circle drawn around my house with a diameter of 762 miles would take in Dallas and Houston, would intersect Green Bay, Wisconsin and Traverse City, Michigan, encompass all five boroughs of New York City, and extend south all the way to Havana, Cuba. Four nations are now included in my ever-expanding circle: the United States, Canada, Bahamas, and Cuba, but the circle still hasn't reached the Mexican border;.it may hit the Yucatan before it gets to Matamoras on the Texas-Mexico border. I've been averaging 2.4 miles/day this year, but since I actually walk every other day, that's an average of 4.8 miles per hike. Yesterday, I walked seven.       


Friday, November 08, 2024

The Open Stages, Atlas, 20th Day of Hagwinter, 625 M.E.

I've been trying to avoid the 24-hour news channels and to even minimize my online news reading, but it's still unavoidable. The progressive left media are all asking what went wrong in the 2024 election, and each pundit has their own answer. It's Harris' fault for courting the moderates and Republicans too much, and in the process losing her Democratic base. It's Biden's fault for not dropping out of the race sooner, leaving too little time for an open convention or a meaningful campaign. It's the Democratic voters' fault for not showing up in sufficient numbers to affect the vote. It's the Republican voters' fault for their blind allegiance to Trump. It's the Russians' fault for spreading disinformation. It's the liberals' fault for their emphasis on pronouns and using terms like "Latinx." I've even heard it's Anthony Fauci's fault for the way he handled the covid crisis, because, sure, let's kick him around some more. 

None of these are true and all of these are true. There's no one single scapegoat, but it is possible to connect the dots back to each one of these so-called "causes."

It's been said that white, working-class voters felt disaffected by the Democratic Party. They felt they were being talked down to by elite party leaders, who they thought considered them simple and unsophisticated. There's some truth to that, and I got a first-hand demonstration Wednesday.

On my usual walk along my usual route at my usual time, I ran into another person who I frequently see doing the same as me. Sometimes we talk - local news, Beltline development plans, the health effects of our walking regimes. I suspected he was a Republican and to the right of my views but we didn't talk politics and frankly I didn't care - he was just some person I occasionally bumped into on the trail.

But Wednesday, he was fired up to talk about Tuesday night's election results. I told him talking about politics wasn't a good idea and warned him we were probably of opposite sides of the aisle on this one, but he was excited and blurted out his Fox News talking points anyway. "It was a landslide," "a clear mandate from the people if there ever was one," "this time he'll have the Senate and probably the House, too,"  and "he'll pick the right staff this time that won't try to hold him back like before." 

I told him I didn't disagree with the facts of his statements, but felt everything he was saying was bad news for America and probably the whole world. I told him I thought Trump was a miserable, loathsome, dishonest cheater, a fraud, and probably a traitor. He was not persuaded and said he felt the same way about my side. Hunter Biden's laptop came up for some reason.

I'll be honest - I didn't want to have that conversation. I was hurting, I was sad, and I was just trying to walk out my anxieties and sorrow. I didn't want and didn't need some MAGA zealot gloating in my face, but out of politeness and neighborly kindness, I tried to restrain myself.

"Well, the stock market's doing a lot better already than it did under Ka-MAL-la," he said, mispronouncing her name the same way Trump does, and probably Fox News since that's the way their messiah says it. 

"It's 'Comma-la'," I told him.

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure it's 'Ka-MAL-la," he insisted.

"No, I've even heard her explain it as 'Comma' like the punctuation, followed by '-La'. Comma-La. Kamala."

And at that point, he lost it. He started walking away, yelling that I had no right telling him how to say her name. "I'll teach you to come to the South and tell people here how to talk," he shouted. 

I had a hard time believing he was serious. "Dude, don't walk away mad," I said, but he was already 20 yards away, visibly angry, and putting his ear pods back in. "Okay," I thought. There's nothing I could do, and no reason to try to appeal to his better judgement. Nothing lost, life goes on, and we walked our separate ways.

Two lessons learned (maybe three): 

  1. He didn't get upset when I revealed myself to be a Dem, and he didn't get upset by my arguments. He only got angry when I corrected him. That goes to the theories about condescension and that the Right is very sensitive about being talked down to. 

  2. The fact that his first reaction was to lash out at me for not being native to the South shows he has a tribal mentality and saw me as an "other." I'm an American citizen living in America, paying my property taxes and maintaining my home just like he probably does. I'm not his guest here in the South who needs to mind his manners and behavior, although he apparently feels that way. One can imagine how he thinks minorities and women should behave.

  3. I was right - talking about politics wasn't a good idea.