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