oh hey, I’m back!

September 2019. The last time I posted here. My uber critical inner voice slapped me around for a minute when I saw that. I knew it had been too long but geez. And then I remembered what I’ve done between then and now. New Orleans. Paris. London. Oh, and a cruise to Mexico which now seems like a really bad idea. But the rest of the list were all solid choices.

How different the world looks, 6 months later.

As one who has always welcomed (or made up) any excuse to stay home, being a part of an externally necessitated lock down should be comfortable. Yet the unease and awareness of a not-quite-right world is inescapable. My mind keeps pondering whether this might be something besides a temporary quarantine. Most people seem to be approaching this as a couple (or a few) weeks of downtime, akin to a post-natural disaster period when everything is upside down but we are able to observe the progress back to normalcy.

But what if it’s something else? What if this is the planet’s pushback from our incessant assault? What if this virus dismantles our systems, our priorities, our expectations beyond the point of no return? Would that be a bad thing? I am not sure, but this question refuses to loosen its grip on my mind.

Maybe it’s because I have had a fundamental lack of faith in modern society for the entirety of my adult life. I entered adulthood believing that my generation would fix the fucked up world that Nixon had birthed. Of course I soon learned that he was but one actor in a far more complex political sham otherwise known as the USA. Imperialism, racism, sexism, the incredible inequality inherent in capitalism all became pieces of my disillusionment. But none of it was as crushing as the endless acceptance of the status quo when we were offered alternatives.

I have supported every true progressive that has ever run for office and I’ve gotten my heart broken more times than I even remember. I often feel completely alone in my commitment to those who have no voice, but I am not. I have allies that I know and many I will never meet, but we seem to never get quite enough energy to make it over the top. So we lick our wounds and wait for the next politician with actual values and hope that he or she will be the one.

Maybe the planet is tired of waiting. Maybe we’ve had enough warning and she is no longer interested in our moderate, centrist, we can’t afford it bullshit excuses. Maybe, just maybe, we have created a reality that is unsustainable and we are being forced to face it with no way out.

Maybe not. Perhaps this virus will be contained relatively efficiently and we will go right back to abusing the most vulnerable, including our Mother. But I hope not. I hope the systems that keep society sick, that keep the rich in power and everyone else in line, and that keep breaking my heart, will fall. I have no image of the world that follows, but I have to believe it will be an improvement over the one in which people empty store shelves so they can resell at a hefty mark up those things that keep their neighbors alive and functioning. The one in which our love of convenience and our personal fulfillment outweigh our concern for human survival. The one in which a leader is chosen by how well they fit our image of leadership, rather than their demonstration of it.

To quote that overrated song, you may say I’m a dreamer. But I have always believed that my perspective is completely practical. A world in which the majority is cared for and supported, a world in which we understand and respect the consequences of our actions, a world in which we consciously live a life of our choice rather than the one that the powerful design is not the stuff of dreams. The only unrealistic element is the necessity to level the power structure. And the unlikelihood of that is, perhaps, why the choice may no longer be ours.