Hail to thee, Ms. Kitty! Too many 2020 goodbyes . . .

Dear you,

This weekend, Ms. Kitty died.  Look  at the ebony, sassy beauty she was:  

My friend Eric buried this precious feline beneath lilacs in Massachusetts.  She had lived twenty or so years with her mistress, Eric’s mother.  Eric said Ms. Kitty kept her cool.  She withdrew under a bed and then . . .  just left.

Just like that.

We are spending a lot of time grieving these days.  Beautiful creatures leaving us behind.  Some leave like Ms. Kitty, letting go after a longish life and a good fight.  Some are taken by violence and stupidity.  In either circumstance, we cry.  I know I have cried cliché rivers in 2020 and I am not a crier by nature. 

But after I cry, I know I must move on and act, like the noble cat described by inspirechange.org:

“The cat shows up for courage to act, and in essence shows up at a time when action needs to be taken.  Those who have the cat as their spirit animal might want to start developing a strong balance between independence and togetherness.  The meanings behind the Cat spirit animal:  patience, independence, curiosity, adventure.”

So, to honor every beautiful creature/person who has left us behind this awful year, I will do my very best to act.  To show up at a time when action needs to be taken.

Rest in peace, vanished beautiful people and wild things.

We say all your names, every day.

XO

Joyce

Silver Lining Sally

Dear you,

Hurricane Sally has meandered her way across the Gulf Coast and continues towards Georgia and the East.  Heavy, heavy rains produced floods; the wind gusts are still fierce.  Some gusts prompt flashbacks of Hurricane Michael, the storm I did not run from.  I got lucky, unharmed and somewhat stunned after that one.  As for Sally, the same applies (for me and Seagrove Beach).  I got lucky, unharmed and somewhat stunned once again.

The “stun” I am experiencing now is not the "glad that's over; that was scary" rush. Today's stun is aesthetic, visceral. (Is that what church is supposed to feel like?)

Now, with the obliterating rain over, I see a gorgeous dove grey sky.  I hear the wind singing.  It is singing!  This, all this, so beautiful. Ah, the silver lining.  That old saying, every cloud has a silver lining?  I don’t know what that means, really, but I get this:  we will find beautiful stuff inside the not so beautiful, or after the not so beautiful event.  For example:

That is the scene at the Bramble Grove beach entrance this afternoon.   Rolling waters, frothy and delicious.  Purity.  Nature.  Rolling in and on . . .

AND NO PEOPLE ON THE BEACH!

Inhale, exhale, and enjoy the reprieve before the next wave of “guests”.

For now, for this fragile moment, there is peace in Seagrove Beach.  Miss Sally's silver lining.  Thank you, sister.

XO

Joyce

Wherever I Go, There I am . . .

Dear you,

An old friend of mine (well, he isn’t that old, but we go back forty years) once told me “wherever you go, there you are.”  I smile remembering the circumstances.  James said this to me in the plaza of Lincoln Center in New York.  I was prepping to move to Chicago to pursue a master’s degree and “new things”.  Yes, I had goals, I had reasons.  But I think his words were meant to caution me about expectations of blissful change.  The geography would change.  However, this would not guarantee an erasure of any existential Joyce thing I was dealing with.  Right.  I am, anywhere and everywhere:

Restless.

A seeker of a not bland utopia.

So, restless me needed a change of geography this past Labor Day weekend.  I journeyed to Tallahassee, our Florida capitol, for that change.  It is, after all, a city with colleges, a diverse population, and green, green, green spaces everywhere.  The hilly landscape surprised me after years of living on the flat coast.  Despite random hotel noise (god, everywhere people are door slammers and stompers), I enjoyed my time in a cat friendly site.

But then there was this on Saturday afternoon:

A caravan of Trump trucks headed into downtown to counter #BLM marchers.

I saw about twenty vehicles with the ubiquitous Trump flags, a few featuring the very special Trump-photoshopped-to-look-muscular-while-holding-machine-gun picture.  I just slowed down and sighed.  This was a scene I had hoped to leave behind for a few days.  Tallahassee is supposed to be a liberal town, right?  Right.  But still not homogenous in terms of political ideology.  Wherever I go, there they are too.  And wherever I go, there I am, accompanied by my current political discomforts.

Back at the hotel, I relaxed with a cold cerveza and cigarette by their little lake, surrounded by oaks draped in Spanish Moss:

After twenty minutes, I got bored with the lake.  I realized it was probably just a man-made retention pond. And I also realized the Trump caravan sighting, while annoying, was stimulating!  I was chasing new geography and the geography was certainly different, but the people weren’t.  And neither was I. 

While my intention was to get away to a green and peaceful place, away from the tourists packing into my condo for the holiday, I could not get away from myself.  I am, anywhere and everywhere, restless and seeking a not bland utopia.

Damn. Drama, drama, drama.

Wherever I go, there I am. 

James, you got that right!

XO

Joyce