Windchime Walker's Journal 76 Archive
5/25-6/24/06

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THURSDAY, MAY 25, 2006

Do you ever find yourself going someplace with one intention only to come away knowing you've received something completely different? In my experience, these unexpected gifts have proven to be exactly what I needed, even if I didn't know it ahead of time. And so it was for me on Tuesday and Wednesday at Holly Near's For Our Lives retreat on writing and presenting.

Yes, I received excellent suggestions and ideas about how better to communicate, but that wasn't all I received--I received healing from an old wound.

Do you recall how I wrote recently about my response to the news that someone I'd known years ago had died? How, in essence, I said, "Good riddance!"? Well, after Holly had prompted us to write about something hard in our lives, I wrote about that unpleasant reaction and my long-held feelings about this person. Raw, painful stuff. And then I dared to read it out loud in the circle.

But instead of being embarrassed as I'd expected, there was a sense of freedom in doing so. And the responses of Holly and the women were so accepting and respectful that, as I followed Holly's creative suggestions for ritualizing the expression of my feelings, and experienced the drumbeat of support by the women encircling me, the poisonous hatred that had been eating at my innards for at least 15 years, broke free and left my body. And it hasn't returned. As I said afterwards, I gave it to the Grand River that flows swiftly outside the window of our lodge, with the knowledge that she could handle it.

What an extraordinary opportunity! For now I can reclaim an entire chapter of my life that had more gifts than wounds. But as long as I'd stayed focused on the wounds, I'd had to ignore the gifts. Not any more. Thank goddess. And thanks to these 25 women who held my pain in strength and compassion, thereby allowing me to finally move beyond it.

Free at last, free at last, thank goddess almighty, I'm free at last.

SATURDAY, MAY 27, 2006

This was Pat's and my second Techno Fest and I'm here to tell you it was a hoot! Fantastic music--if you like techno, which we do--and great dancing. Add to that, perfect weather and thousands of young people who treated us like rock stars! We must have had our pictures taken by 200 kids, and I don't think I'm exaggerating. Not only were we by far the oldest people there, but I didn't see any other wheelchairs or scooters, so I was also breaking the stereotypes of disabled folks as non-dancing, stay-at-home types.

No matter how sullen they might look out in the world, these youngsters could not stop smiling when they'd see Pat and me up dancin' our booties off...which we did for at least four solid hours. Well, Pat stayed on her feet all that time, but I'd take sit-in-my-scooter breaks every so often. Even then I'd be chair-dancing to the beat. I think what surprised them the most was that we're both pretty darn good dancers. One guy even came up and said, "You dance better than three-quarters of the kids here!"

When we went over to the grass beside the river to eat our dinner, the young people sitting in that area broke out into applause and cheers. Three of the fellows came over to get a picture taken with me. It was bizarre. Kinda like being famous.

We had some wonderful conversations during our dinner break. Bill and Mike came over to spend time with us, and DJ, who had said to me while I was dancing, "I wish you were my graandma!", came over to invite us to come to an afterparty at a techno bar where he'd be one of the DJs. He said, "Tell them at the door to get DJ. I'll see to it that you find a spot where you'll be comfortable." Then Doug sat down and showed us his skill at contact juggling. He even gave lessons to Pat and some other folks who sat down to watch. Pat took to it amazingly well.

What a privilege to be accepted like this by the younger generation. And what a blast to dance and dance and dance! I'm thinking about going back on Monday. Heck, people come from around the world for this event. After all, Detroit IS the home of electronic music!

If you decide to make your way down to Detroit's Hart Plaza either Sunday or Monday of this Memorial Day weekend, don't forget your earplugs. I wouldn't leave home without them...

MONDAY, MAY 29, 2006

Meanwhile, those flag-draped coffins continue to slip silently into the hometowns of America. To date, it is the men and women of the military who are being sacrificed upon the altar of a presidency run amok. Tomorrow it might be Congress. Then the press. Then it will be too late.

The words above come from Les Payne's column, "The War Takes its Toll," published Sunday in Newsday. They remind me of the words of Pastor Martin Niemoeller of Nazi Germany:

"First they came for the Communists and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, but by that time, no one was left to speak up."

On this Memorial Day 2006 I mourn ALL the lives that have been lost in wars. And I vow to continue speaking up and speaking out against the government leaders who put our world's people at risk by starting these wars. I urge all peace-loving people to join the voices that say,

"Not In My Name; Not With the Bodies of Our Youth!"

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 2006

I went back to the Detroit Techno Fest--officially called Movement 06: Detroit's Electronic Music Festival--at Hart Plaza on the riverfront yesterday even though the thermometer was hitting 98 degrees F. when I arrived at 4:30 PM. But, let me tell you, things were HOT down there, no matter what the weather!

I started at the Beatport Stage, the smaller tented area where Pat and I had hung out on Saturday.

Now if you're not familiar with or a fan of electronic music, you probably can't even figure out what there is to like. I mean, instead of live bands--although the other stages had a smattering of those--everything is done electronically by a DJ who stands in front of his laptop (always a Mac iBook) and a sound control panel, moving seamlessly between the two. The skill is in the mixing of music and sounds. Each set goes on continuously from 45-60 minutes, so this is an endurance feat for both DJs and dancers! As you can imagine, there's a heavy bass beat that keeps the dancers movin', but what goes on top of that beat depends on the unique sensibilities of each DJ.

For parents who have to listen to this stuff coming out of their kids' bedrooms, I doubt if they manage to get past the relentless thump-thump-thump of the beat, but to lovers of EM, each DJ brings something different to the mix. I found that even I, a relative newcomer to this music--I've only been to one other Detroit Electronic Music Festival and don't listen to it otherwise--was beginning to hear the subtle shifts and shadings that could be created. I even started a list of my favorite DJs.

Among them was Donnacha Costello from Dublin, Ireland, who brought to his craft an almost ethereal quality of sound, but one that still had a terrifically danceable beat. He took us so many places that I found myself anticipating each shift, wondering where we'd go next. I talked to him afterwards and he seemed like such a sweet guy. His only complaint was the heat: "It's never like this in Dublin!"

Other favorites were Adam Beyer and Derrick May who played the Main Stage in the late afternoon/early evening. Except for Donnacha's set at the Beatport Stage and a half hour sitting under the trees beside the river with a delicious Lebanese supper from Byblos--local restaurants had booths in the Food Court--I stayed at the Main Stage. The music was so good and the kids so friendly that I felt quite at home, even though I'd come by myself. Here are some of the dancers near my spot: photos #1, #2, #3, #4 & #5.

As had happened on Saturday, I was an object of delight to all and sundry: this white-haired, grinning woman who was old enough to be their grandmother, dancing either seated in my scooter or standing beside it with my right hand holding tight to the tiller for support while my left arm and body moved to the beat. They wanted pictures of themselves dancing with me, gave me cold bottles of water and handmade bracelets, stopped to chat and ask my age, and one even tried to bring me to Jesus.

I met a few people by name, among them David from Blackpool, England and Claire from Wales, and Denise and Jackie. And then I'd see that not everyone was in their teens and 20s; there were EM lovers in their 30s, 40s and 50s too. But I honestly believe I was the oldest person there.

As you can imagine, with such LOUD music--thank goddess for earplugs!--there wasn't a lot of conversation. Most of the time we simply smiled at one another, posed for pictures, maybe hugged and kissed, and/or danced together. LOTS of young people came over to dance with me.

And the festival came to a fitting climax when an electronic music founder-and-icon, Richie Hawtin, started weaving his magic at 10 p.m. WOW!!! What a master of the medium! By then Hart Plaza's amphitheatre was cram-packed with youthful--and at least one old--bouncing bodies. For the next two hours we experienced firsthand the reason why people had come to Detroit from all over the world on this steamy Memorial Day weekend. We really ARE the mecca for electronic music lovers. Of course, it all started here in Detroit back in 2000 with the first large Electronic Music Festival on the planet.

Whether you're looking at the history of jazz, gospel, Motown or electronic music, Detroit is at the heart of it all. I feel SO fortunate to live here!

I encountered hundreds of wonderful people during my two days and nights at Detroit's Electronic Music Festival, but one person touched me most deeply--a young man who looked as though he had just come from fighting in Iraq. I may be wrong--we never spoke--but his camouflage hat, olive green pants, military-like canteen of water and almost-shaved head seemed to make it a fair assumption. He also had a way of dancing that made one think he was allowing himself to relax in a way that he had not been able to do in a very long time. I couldn't really pin it down, but I saw in his closed eyes and almost ecstatic movement all the young men and women our country is sending to the horrors of war. At least he made it home...this time.

THURSDAY, JUNE 1, 2006

On Monday I was the eldest among thousands of persons, most of them in their teens and 20s, at Detroit's Electronic Music Festival in Hart Plaza (Click here and scroll down to see me chair-dancing at the Fest). On Wednesday I was one of the younger celebrants at a 91st birthday party for Detroit peace activist icon, Sr. Elizabeth LaForest. From 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. today I was surrounded by children aged 5-11 at the Dearborn, Michigan school where I'm unofficial artist-in-residence every Thursday.

Nothing pleases me more than doing this inter-generational dance. I learn so much from those younger and older than myself. Maybe it's because Ed and I never had children that I don't identify too strongly with one generation over another. Or maybe I'm just lucky. Whatever the reason, may this dance continue...

FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 2006

Oh, friends, it doesn't get any easier to live in this country called the US of A. If anything, it gets harder and harder, day-by-shameful day.

Haditha, Iraq. Twenty-four innocent persons shot and killed execution-style in a three-to-five hour rampage, among them girls and boys aged 14, 10, 5, 4, 3 and 1, a grandmother dressed in her nightclothes, a 76-year-old amputee in a wheelchair holding his Koran, a mother and child bent over as if in prayer. "I pretended that I was dead when my brother's body fell on me, and he was bleeding like a faucet," said Safa Younis Salim, a 13-year-old girl who survived by faking her death. Four young men in a taxi who happened on the scene were also shot to death. All killed by U.S. Marines from Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division based at Camp Pendleton, California. No investigation of the "incident," as Mr. Bush referred to it yesterday, was begun until four months later when the story was finally reported in a U.S. magazine.

Samarra, Iraq. Two unarmed young Iraqi women, one about to give birth, shot and killed by American soldiers at a checkpoint.

And today the Toronto Star reports this new massacre:

The U.S. military said last night it would investigate allegations of a second massacre of Iraqi civilians by American troops after being presented with a video of what appeared to be the bodies of 11 people killed by gunfire in a town north of Baghdad.

The video, obtained by the British Broadcasting Corp., showed five children and four women among the dead in a March 15 incident in Ishaqi, which the U.S. military originally characterized as a shootout with an Al Qaeda operative that killed the suspect and three civilians. It said heavy gunfire caused the house to collapse, killing the Iraqis. The BBC said Iraqi police alleged U.S. troops rounded up and killed 11 people in the house, then blew it up.

As long as America has an occupying army in Iraq, these massacres will continue. Even Washington's friend, Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki, said yesterday that violence against civilians had become a "daily phenomenon" by many troops in the American-led coalition who "do not respect the Iraqi people."

"They crush them with their vehicles and kill them just on suspicion," he said. "This is completely unacceptable."

At home we learn today that Attorney General Alberto Gonzales and officials from the Justice Department called a meeting yesterday with senior executives of the top Internet companies--including AOL, Microsoft, Google, Verizon and Comcast--to discuss the government's plans to ask these internet providers to keep detailed records on the web-surfing activites and emails of their customers to "aid law enforcement." Meaning every Google search I make, web site I visit, email I send or receive, could be tracked by the Justice Department without my knowing it. It was real clear that if these Internet giants don't go along willingly, Gonzales and the Justice Department will get their henchmen--the U.S. Congress--to pass legislation making it against the law for them to refuse.

Is it just me or are others wondering where this all will end? I fear I already know.

I could go on and on about the abuses at home and abroad that are commonplace in these, the darkest days in my nation's history. But I won't. Not now anyway.

I try to stay informed even though it can be painful, do what I can to sound the alarm here on my blog/web site, get out there on the streets when necessary, join with justice-seeking people whenever possible, and live as rich and full a life as I can. Today that meant exercising with Matt at the gym this morning, and preparing to drive with Pat to Ann Arbor for jazz--the Pat Martino Quartet at the Kerrytown Concert House--tonight.

May you find truth, beauty, strength and hope. And may our efforts turn the tide towards peace.

SATURDAY, JUNE 3, 2006

At school we often remind our young friends of the importance of seeing the possible consequences of an action before they take it. On Thursday this reminder came after the fact when a boy turned on the key to my scooter and pulled the accelerator lever causing me to bolt forward unexpectedly. Fortunately I didn't fall off and no one's foot was crushed, but it certainly set my heart to racing and my blood to boiling. My unthinking friend had his share of discomfort when he saw my reaction to what had happened.

As it turned out, we both made bad choices: his was to mess with my scooter without getting permission, and mine was to talk with him about it before I'd had time to calm down. He later gave me a handwritten apology note, and, in return, I offered him my own verbal apology. Hopefully, each of us came closer to learning the importance of refraining from acting/speaking until we'd examined the possible consequences of our actions/words.

Nationally and internationally, we're seeing this issue acted out in ways large and small. But, more often than not, the consequences we'd imagine would follow certain actions, are nowhere to be seen.

A U.S. Army dog handler at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq is photographed using his dog to terrify and abuse nude detainees to such a degree that they defecate on themselves. It is alleged that the dog bit one detainee. Two years after a public outcry over the photos, he is brought to trial by the military and accused of crimes that, if proven, could result in his spending sixteen and a half years in prison. He is only found guilty of the lesser charges, but that could still send him to prison for three years. Instead, he is sentenced to 90 days of hard labor, no prison time, and a temporary reduction in pay.

From the BBC:

A report filed by Iraqi police accused US troops of rounding up and deliberately shooting 11 people in the house in Ishaqi, including five children and four women, before blowing up the building.

The US military report, issued on Friday evening, said four bodies including that of an insurgent were found after the raid in March and acknowledged there were up to nine "collateral deaths".

However, it concluded the US soldiers had behaved correctly.

The outcome of the Pentagon investigation emerged a day after the BBC released video footage that appears to show the aftermath of US action in Ishaqi, about 100km (60 miles) north of Baghdad.

The video shows a number of dead adults and children at the site with what our world affairs editor John Simpson says were clearly gunshot wounds.

In December 2005, the New York Times reported that President George W. Bush had authorized the National Security Agency (NSA) to secretly wiretap the telephone conversations and monitor the emails of tens of thousands of Americans for four years without obtaining the necessary warrants from the FISA Court. This action was in blatant disregard of the Federal Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1976. At first President Bush denied it, but then said he would continue this practice for the "safety of the nation" in its War on Terror. There has yet to be any real investigation by Congress or the Judiciary of this obviously illegal operation.

Consequences? What consequences?

TUESDAY, JUNE 6, 2006

Molly Ivins at her best:

Published on Tuesday, June 6, 2006 by TruthDig.com

Flag Burning and Other Dubious Epidemics

by Molly Ivins

Thank goodness the Republicans are around to tell me what to worry about. The flag-burning crisis--here in Austin, there's that pall of smoke rising from the west every morning (it's from an area called Tarrytown, where they burn hundreds of flags daily).

You didn't know hundreds of flags were being burned daily? Actually, you can count on your hand the number of incidents reported over the last five years. For instance, there was one flag burned in 2005 by a drunken teenager and one by a protester in California in 2002. This appalling record of ravishment must be stopped. You're clearly not worried about what matters.

Gay marriage, now there's a crisis. Well, OK, so there isn't much gay marriage going on here in Texas. None, in fact. First, we made it illegal. Then, we made it unconstitutional. But President Bush is all concerned about it, so I guess we have to alter the U.S. Constitution.

Gus and Captain Call (of "Lonesome Dove" fame) will be an item--with who knows who waiting in line right after them.

Also of great concern to Republicans is God Almighty, who, rather to my surprise, has been elected chairman of the Texas Republican Party. That's what they announced at the biannual convention in Fort Worth this week: "He is the chairman of the party." Sheesh, the Democrats couldn't even get Superman.

Also weighing down the nation with a heavy burden is the estate tax, which the Senate will try to repeal this week. The estate tax applies to around 1% of Americans, and I have yet to find any record of it costing anyone a family farm or business. It affects only very, very, very rich people, of whom you are probably not one. And they don't, actually, need another tax break.

These are the things we are supposed to be worrying about, and you notice that it frees us of quite a few troubles we might otherwise fret about.

The war in Iraq? No sweat.

War with Iran? We're carefree.

The economy? Hey, did you see that employment report? Well, ignore it.

Budget out of control, shipwreck ahead? Never mind--Bush doesn't. Worst class divisions since the Gilded Age, rich so much more enormously richer than everybody else, country starting to get creepy? Don't worry, be happy. Torture, massacre, extraordinary rendition, hidden gulag of prisons in foreign countries, Guantanamo and massive violations of international law, American law and the Constitution? Well, you can see why gay marriage is a far greater menace.

Wipe out for the environment; hundreds of regulations and laws changed to favor those who exploit and damage natural resources; all so common no one is keeping track of them all? Let her rip.

Global warming? In the first place, it's Al Gore's issue. In the second place, it's a downer. In the third place, who cares if it's too late in a few years?

Homeland security/war on terror? With the highly excellent disposition of anti-terror funds once more judiciously applied by the Department of Homeland Security, we truly have nothing to worry about. We're ready to stop terrorist attacks in Wyoming, and there are no important cultural sites in New York City, so let's rock.

Oil crisis? Ha! What oil crisis? You want a $100 rebate you can then give the oil companies? Hey, we're going to drill in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, and that should see us through ... oh, about nine months.

Windfall profits? You think the oil companies are ripping us off for windfall profits? Who? ExxonMobil? Why, they would never!

I believe what we have here is a difference over moral values.

The Republicans are worried about the flag, gay marriage and the terrible burden of the estate tax on the rich. The rest of us are obviously unnecessarily worried about war, peace, the economy, the environment and civilization. Another reason to vote Republican--they have a shorter list.

...................................................................

Molly Ivins is the former editor of the liberal monthly The Texas Observer. She is the bestselling author of several books including "Who Let the Dogs In?'

Copyright 2006 TruthDig, LLC

THURSDAY, JUNE 8, 2006

Our shared responsibility...

Occasionally we read something that hits us where we live. That's what today's New York Times column by Bob Herbert did to me when I read it this morning. The fact that I'd awakened with Naba's words echoing in my head--Naba from Iraq whose June 3rd Bridges to Baghdad bulletin I'd reread before going to sleep last night--made Herbert's words hit even harder. In her emailed bulletin, Naba had said, in essence, that she was tired of hearing our apologies to her people and longed to see evidence of our concern through tangible actions taken on their behalf. Add to that, my being with Iraqi children today at school and I think you'll see why I'm rethinking how I live my life.

Long and short is that I can no longer go on as if everything were OK. It's not. My country is causing unimaginable suffering to the innocent people of a country that had done us no harm. The suffering is now so horrendous that events like the U.S. Marine massacre at Haditha are but the tip of a very bloody iceberg. And anyone who says it's now the Iraqis' fault that their country is self-destructing is full of it, excuse my french. Iraq is in chaos for one reason and one reason only--because the U.S. attacked it preemptively and has maintaned a violent occupation for over three years with no end in sight. The Sunni vs. Shia violence is a direct result of the American attacks and occupation. It would not have happened without us.

So when I read Bob Herbert's words, it simply strengthened feelings I was already having. I mean how can I continue to act as if nothing is happening? How can I ignore the suffering of these people? I can't. So today I began a discipline that may seem small but at least it's something. Knowing that the people of Baghdad only have electricity for about four hours a day, meaning, even with generators, they cannot use air conditioners on these sweltering days and nights, I am cutting back on my use of electricity and air conditioning.

Except for my upcoming trip to visit my friend Nan in Missouri, I will not use the air conditioning in my mini-van. Nor will I use the radio or CD player. When at home I will not use fans, lights (except the bathroom light I can't reach), the radio or the internet from 8 AM until 6 PM every day. I am going to allow myself to listen to Amy Goodman's "Democracy Now!" on National Public Radio (WDET-FM 101.9 in Detroit) from 11 a.m. to noon Monday through Friday, but only because she offers news and interviews that open my eyes and heart to what is really happening in our nation and the world. I will also allow myself to use my computer to continue writing the book I'm calling "The Making of An Activist." Hopefully, this work will benefit others, including those in Iraq. And, of course, our refrigerator will stay on, as will our hot water heater.

As I say, this is small potatoes, but maybe it will help me stay conscious of my sisters and brothers in Iraq. It's about time I did something that cost me a few of my personal comforts. If I feel no personal cost, how am I going to find the passion to come up with creative ways to stop this war?

So here is the column that got under my skin:

The New York Times
June 8, 2006
Op-Ed Columnist

Other People's Blood

By BOB HERBERT

For the smug, comfortable, well-off Americans, it doesn't seem to matter how long the war in Iraq goes on -- as long as the agony is endured by others. If the network coverage gets too grim, viewers can always switch to the E! channel (one hand on the remote, the other burrowing into a bag of chips) to follow the hilarious antics of Paris, Britney, Brangelina et al.

The war is depressing and denial is the antidote. Why should ordinary citizens (good people, religious people, patriots) consider their role in -- and responsibility for -- the thunderous, unending carnage? Enough with this introspection. Let's go to the ballpark, get drunk and boo Barry Bonds.

The nation is in deep denial about Iraq. For years the president and his supporting cast of arrogant, bullying characters have tried to put the best face on this war. They had no idea what they were doing when they ordered the invasion of Iraq, and they still don't. Many of the troops who were assured that the Iraqis would welcome them with open arms are now dead. And there's still no plan.

Paul Wolfowitz, who fashioned the phony intellectual underpinnings of this catastrophe, told us that Iraqi oil revenues would cover the cost of reconstruction. He was as wrong about that as the president was about the weapons of mass destruction. (And as wrong as Dick Cheney was last June when he said the insurgency was in its last throes.)

Here are the facts: The war so recklessly launched by the amateurs in the Bush White House has already taken scores of thousands of lives, and will ultimately cost the United States $1 trillion to $2 trillion.

No one has been held accountable for this. While Mr. Bush's approval ratings are low, the public has been largely indifferent to the profound suffering in Iraq. This is primarily for two reasons: Because most Americans have no immediate personal stake in the war, and because the administration and the news media keep the worst of the suffering at a safe distance from the U.S. population.

The killing of American troops is usually kissed off with a paragraph or two in the major papers, and a sentence or two, at best, on national newscasts. (Imagine if someone in your office, sitting at a desk across from you, were suddenly blown to bits, splattering you with his or her blood. You wouldn't get over it for the rest of your life. This is what happens daily in Iraq.)

The many thousands of Iraqis who are killed -- including babies and children who are shot to death, blown up, or incinerated -- remain completely unknown to the American public. So not only is there very little empathy for the suffering of Iraqis, there is virtually no sense among ordinary Americans of a shared responsibility for that suffering.

Despite the frequently expressed fantasies expressed by President Bush and some of the leading politicians of both parties, the idea of a U.S. victory in Iraq is an illusion. The nightmarish violence is rising, not receding. Iraq is not being pacified. A suicide bomber blew himself up in a bustling market in Basra over the weekend, killing 27 and wounding scores. On Sunday, 20 people were stopped and pulled from their vehicles on a highway near Baquba and shot to death.

John Burns, writing in yesterday's New York Times, told us: "The death toll in one of the most grisly recent attacks, in the village of Hadid, near the Diyala provincial capital of Baquba, rose to 17 on Tuesday when the police delivered nine severed heads to the Baquba morgue in the fruit boxes in which they were found in the village."

Eight other heads had previously been found.

Instead of beginning to pull our troops out of Iraq, we are sending more in. The permanent Iraqi government, which was supposed to be the answer to everybody's prayers, is a study in haplessness. Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, Al Qaeda's man in Iraq, remains at large. (As does Osama bin Laden, somewhere in Pakistan.)

As was the case with Vietnam, the war in Iraq is a fool's errand. There is no clear mission for American troops in Iraq. No one can really say what the dead have died for. And yet the dying continues.

When it all finally comes to an end (according to President Bush, on somebody else's watch) we'll look around at the hideous costs in human treasure and cold hard cash and ask ourselves: What in the world were we thinking?

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

TUESDAY, JUNE 13, 2006

It's been quite awhile since I've updated this journal. Hope you didn't give up on me! And I hope you continued to check my Windchime Walker blog and my Photographic Peace Quotes Calendar. When I'm rushed, I'm more apt to post entries there, especially on the Peace Calendar. That gets updated daily.

What a busy six days! School last Thursday. My usual workout with Matt at the gym on Friday morning, followed by an overnight visit by my poet friend MorganRose from Toledo, Ohio. Our adventures at the Detroit Festival of the Arts Friday afternoon and evening. Then the magic that came to me on Saturday when I spent eight more hours--this time by myself--at the Detroit Festival of the Arts. To read about it and see lots of photos, go to my blog entries for Saturday and Sunday. Sunday I collapsed and spent much of the day napping. Then Monday morning I had to get up at 4:45 AM to take Ed to Detroit's Kresge Eye Institute by 5:30 AM for his second cataract operation. It went fine, and this morning I could "sleep in" until 6:30 AM because his follow-up appointment wasn't until 7:30 AM. If you're a regular reader you know how much I like getting up early ;=(

And the excitement wasn't over yet. At the library yesterday I was reading The Nation magazine, a favorite, in which I saw an ad for their December cruise in the Bahamas. I'm not much on cruises per se--never been on one in my life--but when I read the list of progressive writers/speakers who will be participating in daily panel discussions onboard, my attitude towards cruises did a 180 degree turn. Oh my gawd, they listed just about every woman and man I read and admire in my never-ending search for truth about what is happening in our country and the world. Check out The Nation Cruise home page and you'll see what I mean.

After numerous phone calls requesting more details, especially about wheelchair-accessibility, this afternoon I registered online and paid my deposit. If I change my mind before July 14, the most I can lose is $75. But I don't think that's going to happen. I think, come December, I'm going to be in a progressive peace activist's form of heaven, listening to and learning from the interchange of ideas by intelligent, informed women and men who share my views of our world as a global community.

We are in crisis times, in my opinion, and must come together to try to determine new and creative ways to move forward into more respectful relationships with one another and our earth. I think this cruise is just such an opportunity and I want to be part of it.

There's one more piece of news that has me in a tizzy. Tomorrow is Tattoo Day, and I am, as the kids say, psyched! Yes, I'm a bit uneasy about the pain, but my feelings of excitement outweigh any anxieties. Hold me in good "tat" energy come noon EDT, OK?

THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 2006

It's done! I am now a tattooed lady, and proud of it. Everything went well and I am absolutely delighted with the quality of the tatt itself. To read all about it and to see photos of the process, go to my Windchime Walker blog entry for yesterday, Wednesday, June 15.

My tattoo is now going through the healing process exactly as predicted--the skin around the tattoo is a bit swollen, reddish in color, and hot to the touch, but obviously not infected. As I understand it, my body is doing its best to get rid of this foreign substance--the ink--while at the same time trying to form a scab. Neither of which I want to happen.

My frequent application of A & D ointment is intended to keep scabs away because, if formed, they would remove much of the ink. That is a definite NO-NO. In addition to A & D ointment, I'm going through antibacterial soap like there was no tomorrow. As they say, getting the tattoo is 50% of the deal; the aftercare is the other half. I intend to do everything I can to help the healing along. All going well, the process should be complete in about two weeks time.

Today was our last day of art classes for the year. Tomorrow at 10 AM our fifth graders will graduate; I plan to be there. Susan always laughs at me around this time of year because, where all the teachers and students are counting the hours until summer vacation begins, I generally want the school year to go on longer. I SO miss the kids during the summer. But I know we all need a break. They're just so full of love, especially at this time of year. I bet I got six hand-drawn cards today saying how I was the BEST and that they would miss me. The feeling is mutual, I'm sure.

Tomorrow is my official 64th birthday but with everything that's already happened this week--especially my hair-do by Osadia on Saturday and the tattoo yesterday--I feel totally celebrated already. And it isn't over yet.

After tomorrow's graduation celebration followed by a few hours' rest at home, I'll be heading across the river to the University of Windsor, Ontario where Raging Grannies from around the world are coming together for their biennial UnConvention. Even though I'm no longer an active Raging Granny, I'll be joining them for dinner tomorrow night. I anticipate reconnecting with Grannies I've sung with at national rallies in Washington, DC, and others I only know by reputation and/or emails. Such fearless women!

Saturday is the day-long Inspire Peace Conference in downtown Detroit where I will be one of the Beacon of Peace awardees. It should be a wonderful day where peacemakers from around the world--including the Ukraine, Pakistan, Ghana, Kenya, Algeria, the Netherlands and all across the U.S.--will gather together to inspire and be inspired by one another and our shared commitment to peace. This first-of-its-kind gathering is the fruit of two women--Dr. Carolyn Crocheron, Founder of Peace of the World International, and Rev. Tia Taylor, Founder of Destiny Bound Community Development Organization--and their passion for children and work for peace. I am honored to be part of it.

So if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, I'm sure you'll understand. As I've said before, when time is short I'm more inclined to post an entry on my Windchime Walker blog than here. And, even when I'm busy, I try to stay up-to-date with my Photographic Peace Quotes Calendar.

May this last weekend of spring be full of joy and life. And please don't despair: peace IS possible.

SUNDAY, JUNE 18, 2006

When I get discouraged about the state of our world, I want you to remind me of the women I met this weekend. Women, old and young, who are working for peace in cities, towns and villages across the globe. Women who are not giving up or giving in to despair or the numbness that war and suffering can bring. Women who sing and dance in the middle of chaos, who organize and empower others to claim their rightful place on the stage of life. Women who run for office and sometimes win, who teach children how to resolve their conflicts nonviolently, who risk imprisonment and even death as standard-bearers for truth. Women who reach their arms across oceans and cultures to create bonds that no war can break.

These women are Raging Grannies from across Canada and the United States, some of whom were recently brought to trial for "trespassing" in the military recruiting offices where they tried to enlist so they, instead of our nation's young people, would be sent to fight in Iraq. At this weekend's UnConvention in Windsor, Ontario, there were sixty Grannies, among them one from the UK, and another who was 93 years young. They came together to share strategies, songs and stories so they can go back home and continue raging for peace and justice. They also laughed A LOT. Humour is the Raging Grannies' special gift to the movement.

Then yesterday at the Inspire Peace conference, I met and heard from women from Nigeria, Kenya, the Ukraine and our own city of Detroit. The courage and passion of these women filled me with awe. I see them as shards of light piercing the darkness of lies, corruption, violence and despair. Together their light was blindingly beautiful.

After the conference I had the unexpected pleasure of spending time with an activist originally from Kenya who wears many hats, among them founder/director of a theatre project called Balosi, program coordinator of the Washington Peace Center, and recently-elected president of the Kenyan Community Abroad. Mkawasi Mcharo was also celebrating her birthday yesterday. But it had not been an easy day. She'd left her apartment in DC at 5:30 AM to take a plane to Detroit that should have gotten her to the conference well before it started at 11 AM. Instead she spent the day in a black hole of airports, only arriving at the Inspire Peace conference minutes before it ended at 3:30 PM. But it was that chaos that led to our connecting with one another. As she said later, "I now see I came to Detroit not so much to receive the Beacon of Peace award as to meet you."

We had dinner together and then I drove her to the airport for her 7 PM flight. During those 2-3 hours we became extended family. Talk about kindred! We found that we share so much in how we approach life and what meaning it has for us. Our work as activists defines who we are, and our spiritual awareness gives that work its meaning. We both take difficulties--like her crazy day of travel--as clues to be deciphered rather than things to whine about. And it was a kick to discover that she knows Concepcion and Thomas who have kept the anti-war vigil going in front of the White House for the past 25 years. The Washington Peace Center supports their work. Mkawasi and I look forward to a long friendship. We're already talking about visits both in DC and here in Detroit.

I feel full to overflowing, and oh so grateful for all that I have experienced in the past week. It has certainly been a week to remember.

MONDAY, JUNE 19, 2006

Since all my pre-tattoo research had said to expect the healing process to take at least 1-2 weeks, I was pleasantly surprised this afternoon when my tattoo finished its peeling phase, signaling that its healing was complete. And it only took five days! What a good body I have.

Now I can swim again, but my tattoo will be like a baby that I protect from the sun. No open-air scoots or swims without goodly amounts of 30-50% sunblock covering the earth on my arm. That will be a rule of life from now on. Ultraviolet rays are a tattoo's worst enemy.

I am utterly delighted with how my tattoo turned out. It is even better than I'd hoped. My deep gratitude goes to Caryl Cunningham of Eternal Tattoos in Taylor, Michigan. What an artist!

I'm happy to report that Eddie has also healed quickly from his second cataract operation. Today he had his one-week follow-up appointment with the surgeon and things are going so well that he doesn't have another appointment until late July.

Good news!

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 21, 2006

Happy Summer Solstice!

Early tomorrow (Thursday) morning I'm off to Hannibal, Missouri to see my dear friend Nan. Three of us will be driving my minivan the ten hours to get there.

Sr. Mary Francis, Jerry, Nan and I met back in the mid-80s at St. Agnes Church on Rosa Parks Blvd. in Detroit. Sr. Mary Francis was on the staff, and both Nan and Jerry lived in community with others in the parish house. When St. Agnes was closed in 1989, Nan bought a home on twenty acres of land an hour and a half north of Detroit. During the five years that she lived there, she was generous about letting Eddie and me use her home whenever she was out of town, which was often. Those were idyllic times for us and our dog, Timmy. In 1994 Nan moved to an apartment in her son's home in Jericho, Vermont. We've stayed in close touch through phone calls and letters, but have not seen one another since 1996.

About two years ago Nan and two friends bought homes in Hannibal, Missouri. Their intention was to form community to work on Nan's labor of love, Friends of Silence. Nan had begun Friends of Silence at St. Agnes, and had seen it grow into a monthly newsletter that she created and mailed to more than 5000 readers worldwide. She's also had two books published about spirituality, and has given countless retreats across the country. She, Ann and Barbara were intending to open a Friends of Silence retreat center there on the banks of the Mississippi River. Two more books were almost ready to be published when Nan was diagnosed with advanced uterine cancer in March.

Even with Nan's ongoing chemotherapy treatments, she and Barbara managed to publish their beautiful book--"Peace Planet: Light for the World"--that features a prayer and photograph for each country in the world. The other book is currently on hold. We planned our visit around Nan's chemotherapy schedule so she'd feel well enough to see us. When I talked with her today her voice sounded strong.

We intend to return home late Sunday night. Tonight I'll be putting up Photographic Peace Quotes Calendar entries for the days I'll miss. I'm not taking my laptop, so there will be no updates to my journal or blog while I'm gone.

Please hold my friend Nan in your heart. Our world needs her loving, peace-filled spirit now more than ever.

**********************************

Today's letter to the New York Times:

To the Editor:

Re: U.S. Says 2 Bodies Retrieved in Iraq Were Brutalized

The deaths of Pfc. Kristian Menchaca, 23, of Houston, and Pfc. Thomas L. Tucker, 25, of Madras, Ore. are tragedies. Unnecessary tragedies, I might add. Tragedies that had no business happening.

But when I hear the cries of outrage over the nature of their deaths voiced by the same members of the government and military that put these young men in harm's way, my stomach turns. Whatever do they expect? After authorizing the torture of untold numbers of prisoners in this so-called war on terror--some of whom died in the process--how can our American leaders expect their adversaries to do any less when given the chance?

It is the highest form of hypocrisy to decry the actions of those who are doing what you are doing yourself. We must end torture by our own people NOW.

Patricia Lay-Dorsey




© 2006 Patricia Lay-Dorsey. Please use with attribution.