Freedom

I thought Bernie Sanders came to Juneau. 

I saw it. 

Except he was sitting on top of the welcome sign with his legs crossed and had the cutest mittens on so I probably should have known. 

I called the kids in to look at this picture and asked why he would visit Juneau in the middle of winter.

They proceeded to laugh at me. 

Hard. 

"It's a meme, mom." 

"I'll meme you." 

Just like that, the image of Bernie Sanders at the inauguration has shown up everywhere and I realized again how hard it is to tell what is real. Granted, I should have been able to pick up that the tiny Bernie on top of a sign was not real. 

But my brain wanted to believe what it saw. Just like my ears want to believe what they hear.

Recently, I've been hearing lots about the First Amendment. Just like Bernie showing up everywhere, I'm finding mention of "freedom of speech" bubbling up in random conversations.

I decided to read it.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

That's a thoughtful piece of legislation. I got a little distracted reading the different Supreme Court decisions regarding the breadth of this freedom. It's enough to say that our freedom to say whatever we want wherever we want is not actually protected. 

One of my favorite examples of this weird twisting of the freedom of speech was when someone texted me a heated tirade and called me a b*&%$. The person defended it with freedom of speech and then I gave them more freedom by relieving them of employment. I suppose you are free to say what you want, but you aren't protected from the consequences nor are you guaranteed a forum for your freedom. 

I'm incredibly thankful to live in a country where First Amendment rights are protected and I'm thankful to live in a country where we can argue in the courts regarding the boundaries for that freedom. I don't want child pornography protected and I'm less than thrilled with protecting the burning of crosses or flags. I'm not a lawyer, but these are some of the things the courts wrestle with. 

Now is a fantastic time for a civics lesson for all of us. Do some research and stop posting Bernie memes or arguing the freedom of speech means you are protected to say whatever wherever. 

Pony

When I was a kid and would whine, my parents told a predictable story as a response. 

There were two kids and one was put in a room with a bunch of toys and the other in a room full of manure. When the researcher returned, the kid in the toy room was whining about being bored and how there was nothing to do. When the researcher came to the door of the room full of manure, he could hear giggling and hurrahs. As he opened the door, the kid was covered in poop digging away happily. The fellow asked her why she was so happy and the child said, "With all this shit, there has to be a pony in here somewhere." 

This was supposed to illustrate the difference between a pessimist and an optimist, not good childcare skills or appropriate language. I'm not sure it really demonstrates the difference between them or if that difference is all that interesting; I do think it is a story that set me up to keep digging and looking for adventure. 

One of the greatest gifts I was given growing up was the lack of expectation that anyone would entertain me. There was never a sense that life would come to me for my pleasure, but I had hours of wandering my grandparent's fields or barns looking for adventure or trouble. I rode my bike hundreds of miles and dug in the dirt looking for arrowheads or bones. 

It would be easy to jump into a critique of the newest generation and all their gadgets, but I find them as creative as any other generation. We've all tended to get a little lazy when it comes to entertainment recently, but I'm trying to keep myself awake on another gray day when the wind, rain, and dark feel like a room full of shit. 

So I've decided to clean out all my files. 

Wow. It doesn't get much more fun than that. 

That was sarcasm, except it has been an experience full ponies. I found old birthday cards, memories of our first dog, and our visas for studying in Tanzania. Cleaning is never my favorite thing and I took double Vitamin D today, but what a delightful surprise to find treasures where I only expected tedium. 

Keep digging even when it feels like a room full of shit - that's the lesson of my childhood. I'd add permission to take a nap and come back to it, but please keep getting out of bed and showing up to life. 

Salad

 Juneau sold out of salad on Saturday. 

Half of the stores in town had empty shelves where the lettuce should be and then I gave up; it's hard to get that motivated to keep looking for leafy greens. 

There are many things I love about my town, and now I can add the joy it brings me to think about a sudden run on salad. Did we all realize at the same time that we had to serve something besides more comfort food? My guess is that the shipment actually froze, but I like the idea of everyone in Juneau rushing to Fred's to stock up on arugula. 

I love my city. I love not only her extreme beauty, but her moodiness and melancholy as well. I love that I know sex slaves and drug dealers as well as millionaires. I love that I refrain from yelling at incompetent drivers because they might be the one giving me my next gynecological exam. 

Juneau lives out the sense of community in a way that might be helpful for our nation. We know we are dependent on each other so when you have a flat tire, you don't talk politics, you are just thankful someone is willing to help. You can choose to be a jerk, but at some point  you burn all your bridges and life becomes nearly impossible and leaving is too expensive so you have to learn humility and apologizing. 

Maybe that's what I've learned the most from living here and would offer to others - humility. Know when you are wrong and know when not to gloat. I love that the word humility is derived from the Latin humus for dirt. 

"Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." Those words are spoken every Ash Wednesday as we remember our mortality and the perspective it gives us for life.

Humility - you are not god and we all are grounded in the dirt. We share this ground beneath us, and if nothing else, that is enough. 

Piano

It's the pandemic purge at our house. We started getting rid of some of the furniture in our living room and now it feels like everything has to go. I'm sure we're not the only household doing this (Juneau Buy, Sell, Trade is hopping), but we've lived here over a decade and it was time to go through some stuff.

Like CDs. 

I know we probably should get rid of them, but I love holding music in a way that streaming doesn't allow. I like the jackets with pictures and the songs listed. Yes, I haven't listened to a CD in five years, but I made up for that last week. I forgot how hard I laugh when I hear The Temptations sing, "Beauty is Only Skin Deep". Seriously, who wants a guy singing to her, "A pretty face you may not possess, but what I like about you is your tenderness. A pretty face maybe some guys taste, but I'll take lovin' in it's place?"

But there were things we released. I just took apart the puzzle we spent all break working on. There was a lot of blood, sweat and tears that went into those 500 pieces.

And we passed the piano on to a home where it would be played and loved again. I got a little teary, because there's a lot of memories wrapped up in that instrument. Yes, there was fighting over practicing for lessons, but there was some beautiful music and singalongs that erupted along the way too.

I struggle with the impermanence of life. I'm inclined to hold on to things, especially books, but I've learned the gift of saying blessings so I can learn to let go. I take a moment and give thanks for the gift that object has been in my life, for the experiences, and maybe even a moment for tears. 

There are lots of blessings in our Lutheran prayerbook, but basically a blessing shows appreciation for the gift given, an acknowledgement of how it has built up the community or your own self, and a promise that it will be tended well. 

Thank you for this object or what has been, for the person it has helped me become, may I be a good steward of it now as I keep or release it. 

It's not magic, but blessings help us find our way through all our stuff so we don't fall into mindless consuming or sentimental hoarding. 

And if you want a couch and loveseat, we're getting rid of ours.