The Safety Myth . . .

 Dear you,

July was blurry for me, speeding by with shocks and bumps and plenty of screams.  Like me, I am sure you too were frequently on high-alert (mouth agape, eyes wide open, palms up in surrender or resistance).  Yeah, I get it.

But you know what? There is no reason for me to "fear" anything. It's not like I'm running from a wild boar in the woods or dodging incoming fire in Ukraine.  Nevertheless, sometimes I really do feel alarmed, very alarmed. This happens when I regress, lapse back into a Safety Myth state of mind. Crazy tendency. Nothing about this existence is safe. Danger is normal. Danger is my friend. She starts and ends my days. Her messenger, that little Limbic System zing, is my constant companion too. When I am steady, I simply embrace them as part of my morning routine. Coffee, cigarettes, pushups and zing. This morning's zings:

1.  My Phone shrieks an Amber Alert.  A child from Escambia County has been kidnapped.

2.  CBS News informs me "Brain-eating parasite found in Iowa lake, 1 Dead."  The amoeba, if he gets into your head, is 97% fatal.  I also hear the state of Missouri is checking its public drinking water.  Just in case. 

3. I learn monkeypox cases in my state of Florida are on the rise; we have around 300 cases reported in 17 counties.  CNN says that the World Health Organization's chief has advised "men who have sex with men to reduce partners to limit exposure to monkeypox."  Another pandemic.  Another ugly opportunity for ultra-conservatives to target the gay population.

4. My Google news-feed slaps we with unwanted lawsuit updates. Apparently Skittles are deadly. They contain titanium dioxide, also found in sunscreen, plastics, and paint. Heads up; candy kills.

5. A flyer in my mailbox delivers a "vote for me" message from a guy running for Walton County Commissioner.  According to the flyer, David Buchanan will "fight" for "preserving our Christian values".  ("Our" values, David?) He will also "fight" any "effort to teach Critical Race Theory or sexual indoctrination in our public schools."  David apparently loves to "fight".  Total idiot.

6. I discover that my upper arms and lower back are slightly itchy. I am guessing my beloved fresh-scent Gain Detergent may be the culprit.  Laundry is now another subject for cautionary choice.

Zing, zing, zing, zing, zing, zing!  All this before noon.  And the day is still young.  How to stay steady?Repeat, repeat, repeat to self:  "Danger is normal. Danger is my friend."  Besides, it's unlikely I'd ever stop drinking tap water, interacting with people, eating candy or washing my clothes anyway. I'm not that scared.  But, on the other hand, there's candidate David . . . 

Repeat, repeat, repeat to self:  "Danger is normal.  Danger is my friend."

Carry on.

End of July, Joyce

Distance and #Ohio, oh my oh . . .

Dear you,

Intending to visit the state capitol in Tally during my escape from 4th of July beach wackiness, I drove around downtown and could not find a parking spot.  Tally has these intense hills in town, almost like vertical climbs, challenging my little car who is accustomed to flat terrain.  Stopping at the peak of one of these hills at a red light, I felt like the vehicle brake was not going to hold.  Back-sliding felt imminent.  I was losing a grip on the ground beneath my feet, off-center and tilting, distanced from my usual sense of placement on planet Earth. After this, I decided to just pull into a "reserved" space for a few seconds, just long enough to jump out and take a photo or two of the capitol.  See above photo. That was as close as I could get and still keep an eye on my illegally parked car.  Again, I experienced distance from that sense of placement.  Literally outside the seat of power and metaphorically too.  What goes down in the Florida capitol seems/is so out of my control.  I have lost whatever I thought my grip was there too.

Tilting.  Back-sliding imminent. Reversals of power from us to "them".  

One of them, someone who surely feels empowered when she looks at the Tally capitol building, was parked outside a store I visited after my return.  A sticker on her rear window featured a picture of a handgun; the message under the visual read "we don't call 911".  So proud of that, this taking the law into one's hands.  No expertise.  No restraint.  Just force without measure.  Well, I suppose it could be worse.  It could be OHIO.

Ohio.  Last week, the report about the ten year old girl (a rape victim) who was denied access to abortion in that state shocked almost all of us.  Abuse by the rapist and further abuse by the "state".  She was taken to Indiana for the procedure.

Ohio again.  This week I hear about a state Republican representative who put forth a bill requiring educators to teach "both sides" of the Holocaust.  Both sides of what?  I wonder what the other side would openly claim.  No expertise.  No restraint.  Just force without measure.

So ends my 4th of July week.  It ends with a massive space between me, them, and whatever our dream of independence was.

But still, I will/we will persist in our pursuit to be autonomous, to be in control of what goes down in all our state capitols. And our lives.

Dismantle the distancing project.

Carry on.

Joyce