Category Archives: Columnist

Be The Great Country

Before trundling off into the wilderness, the ancient Chinese sage Lao Tsu kept his nation’s archives and advised the ruling class. He left some of his guidance behind in the Tao Te Ching. Among his key teachings was that a great country is not belligerent, and that a great leader offers virtue in return for guidance from those led.

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That was about 2,500 years ago. History and evolution seem to have been at work since then. It’s high time to acknowledge what has changed.

Somewhere along the line, great nations and their ruling classes seem to have abdicated their proper role, aspiring to become something more akin to gods than leaders.

Just as it used to be with gods, the most powerful nations and their ruling classes now spend most of their resources vying to bring death down from the sky. There is little (if any) acknowledgement or leadership offered to their respective citizens. It is thus not surprising that many of us among the led now typically feel forsaken by our leaders, much as the biblical figure Job was reported to have felt about his deity.

All of which leaves it to you to fill the vacuum and comport yourself as Lao Tsu would have both a great country and a great leader do. After all, if not you — who? If not now, when? The alternative to your stepping up is to abdicate, just as many of your leaders have — allowing the belligerent and those without virtue to fill the void. Unless your conscience can either accept or ignore such consequences, your alternative is to do your best to be the great country that no longer serves you. It is also for you to serve as an example for other individuals to do the same.

Not surprisingly, the cycles of some of the faster planets (which correlate with the pace of your personal life) and their aspects to the slower, more distant objects in our solar system (which move with the rhythms of history) could reasonably be construed to be symbolizing just such a new role for you — and for others who would be inspired to emulate your example.

Right now, astrology’s most current indicator of how you should step up is Mars in Virgo moving to oppose Chiron on the other side of the zodiac in Pisces (180 degrees away). That aspect is exact just before 4:48 am EDT (08:47:57 UTC) on Friday. The implication becomes even more clear when you compare the immediately previous opposition of Mars and Chiron to the next one about to take place.

One thing to remember is that Mars aspects tend to express in advance of being exact. Hence, it’s not too soon to look ahead to Mars opposing Chiron on Friday. In essence, it’s happening all week. Another thing to note is that the word “opposition” for astrologers does not always (or even usually) represent conflict. It’s more a reflection, like the one you get from the mirror opposing your face.

The last time Mars in Virgo opposed Chiron in Pisces was Oct. 31, 2013. On the same day, Mars was in a precise (to the degree) trine aspect (a separation of 120 degrees) with relentless Pluto in Capricorn. When you consider how trines can be enabling, and look at the news on that day, it’s revealing.

The headlines for Halloween 2013 show aggressive Mars operating with impunity, as evinced by a U.S.drone strike (death from above) in Pakistan. Chiron, being more subtle and nuanced than Mars, yet nonetheless ever the “inconvenient benefic” (as the late, great Al Morrison put it), was reflected by undeniable revelations facilitated by Edward Snowden. As result of that one individual, it was revealed that the National Security Agency (NSA) was spying on its allies, as well as on U.S. citizens. Indications are that this time around can be different, but only if you believe you can make a difference.

Regardless of how you feel about Edward Snowden (without whom we would never have known that the NSA was practicing unbridled god-like omnipotence by routinely spying on friend, foe and you), he did demonstrate that one individual can make a difference. While you are probably not in a position to make as big an impact as he did, the biggest constraint on your power in the world is how much you believe you can do.

Interestingly, Chiron will be sharing the same degree of Pisces (and the opposition from Mars) with Borasisi on Friday. As Eric put it last year (in his “Top Five Events for 2015“), “Borasisi is about the power of belief.” When you consider how Chiron makes denial difficult — and factor in another, substantially different trine to Pluto on Friday (from Venus in Virgo — emblematic of personal values) — you get a very different picture from October of 2013.  

That picture, of course, can only be completed by you. That’s how astrology works. You are the most important element. In this case, the deciding factor will be how much you believe in your ability to step up and be a great nation of one, defined by a dedication to peace. It’s time to believe you can be a great leader who offers virtue and accepts guidance. Yours is the privilege to prove how far individual human beings have come since the time of Lao Tsu.

This is not about changing the world, at least not for now. It’s about believing you can change yourself. From that belief, truly great countries of many may yet come to be again.

Offered In Service

Danielle Voirin’s Photo of the Day for 10.20.15

The parrot at the apéro, one evening in Brittany, France.

The parrot at the apéro, one evening in Brittany, France.

Paris-based photographer Danielle Voirin travels the world and documents her experiences in photographs. She takes street photography and photojournalism a shade beyond even art, to the level of mysticism. You may see more of her work on her website DanielleVoirin.com, or her alt website, DaniVoirin.com.

Weekend Tarot Reading — Update

While not being able to publish a tarot reading this week, Sarah has said that last week’s reading is still very much in motion — and it’s worth giving it another look, perhaps through new eyes:

http://members.planetwaves.net/weekend-tarot-reading-sunday-oct-11-2015/

“[Y]our path may sometimes feel like a lonely one, but only if you close your vision off from the magic of another realm — one that is far more subtle, but which reveals the feathers of your angel wings. In some way, you have demonstrated courage beyond words by holding to your heart-felt convictions. You may have chosen to turn your back on what no longer makes sense to you any more. It didn’t make sense because it ran counter to your values. Now you carry your values with you, openly, unafraid of embodying and living them out.”

The Magic of Baking

Harvest. The fall has a special place in my heart for what it brings — the reward for hard work put into the land, its trees, flowers and fruit. This weekend I was at my sister’s house baking pies and cakes, using the sugary-sweet Bartlett pears harvested from trees growing on their land. On the menu for me were a dark-chocolate pear tort and a pear-fig tart.

The kitchen is the alchemical lab: tending the flame under the pot, watching ingredients meld together in the bowl and then in the oven. I get a sensual joy in molding cold butter into flour, water and egg to make a dough, and then rolling the dough to the right thickness.

There is pleasure in working dough around a fruit that benefits from cooking, softening and ripening from the heat of the oven. I love experimenting with the already natural sweetness of the fruit by adding spices and condiments that never overwhelm, but frame the flavors already there naturally. These experiences are magic to me.

Yes, my Aquarian Sun, Gemini Moon and Venus in Sagittarius compel me to write about politics. Yet, my Jupiter and Uranus conjunct in Cancer in the 5th house reverberate all the way into my 11th house of community — where my Ceres is governed by Capricorn, close to my North Node. It is there where my family and friends gather in anticipation of a meal cooked by me.

The kitchen is a place where I utilize my art degree to the fullest, embodying everything I’ve learned from my family and friends in my 60 years on this planet. Along with theater, the kitchen is a place where my personal history and creative proclivity collide to benefit an always appreciative audience on a very substantive level.

It wasn’t always like that. There were lessons I needed to learn. Seven years ago, while visiting Eric in upstate New York, we were preparing dinner while working together on the Planet Waves annual series. Cooking as I always do, I mentioned in passing — almost resignedly — “Yes, I can cook. I cook too well, in fact. Everybody wants me to cook for them. I feel so much like a Mom, even though I’ll never have kids!” Eric responded by turning that around on me saying, “Never abandon that maternal, nurturing side of yours. It’s a huge source of power — own it!”

Even though Eric knew my chart, his comment confused me. Confused by my own maternal inclinations, I was struggling with a part of me that still needed to define freedom for myself. How could I celebrate something I was so conflicted about? A talent to nurture that brought me so much grief because I felt so under-appreciated for it? How could Eric suggest that I relish and celebrate a side of me that, at the time, I perceived as servitude?

My perceptions then were based on carrying baggage from a history of giving away too much nurturing energy in my relationships. I mistook my proclivity to give as something I had to do all the time. I gave too much, most of the time doing so without being receptive to receiving back. I felt myself a victim of my own gifts. I was carrying a subservient mindset — always tending to the needs of others first, with little idea how to be receptive to reciprocation, or how to communicate my own needs to others. I gave too much so I wouldn’t receive.

Some of that mindset was cultural. Filipino women of my mother’s generation were taught to be the quiet, giving force behind their man, submerging their needs and strength for the needs of their mate. And my mother’s example was the imprint of femininity that I carried into early adulthood, and subsequently into my relationships.

Using that example in relationships, it was as if I was constantly carrying two large baskets of fruit: one for others, and the other for myself. Habitually, it was the basket for others that was fuller, heavier and laden with luscious fruit, while my own was meager. Needless to say, carrying more weight for others on one side eventually does “tip you over.” A bout with deep depression and months of therapy put me on that long road to find out what I wanted.

I needed to embrace that overwhelming need of mine to nurture — the quality Eric found as a strength in my chart, but back then I never thought that it was. I struggled with recognizing and appreciating my own power, wants and needs. That had to become primary practice — the yoga of self. To employ the plane flight metaphor: I had to place the oxygen mask on myself first, to break myself out of the over-nurturing rut I experienced in my relationships.

My talent for nurturing had to evolve to a level where I could do it with enjoyment, creating something for the plate that was a full embodiment of personal energy and spirit, not servitude. This for me was my journey to my 11th house, where my Capricornian Ceres and North Node co-exist.

Cooking and baking are now my passions, which I pursue like a dance, preferably when I have the physical energy and the time to make it truly enjoyable for myself and others. These talents to nurture and sustain others had to mature to a level where I would get something back for giving — not only monetarily, but energetically. The kitchen had to become a place of magic and joy for me. I think, by and large, by accepting my power and energy flow as a constant and equal exchange — going out and coming back in — I have succeeded.

As a friend of mine once said recently, “Fe, cooking — for you — is a form of meditation.” Another said, “Fe, you are a magician with food.” I’d like to think that I am. As I walked the road of this life leading to the fields of Ceres, I came to accept a natural part of myself I once denied. I’ve given myself the chance to sustain and enrich myself and others, on the plate and in spirit.

Leaning in, I lift out a freshly baked pear pie from a hot oven. I can feel the harvest goddess’ breath on me while the smell of a golden, butter crust and bubbling fruit comes from what I made with my hands. The experience is a gift from Ceres, leaving me full of thanks for her help in re-claiming a large part of me.

Patterns & Defenses

By Amanda Moreno

This week I have been thinking about patterns. I’ve been noticing old patterns coming up again in many spheres of my life. It’s kind of annoying, really, but life seems to be built on these patterns. I feel fortunate to be able to bring awareness to them even when I’m frustrated by the fact that simple awareness doesn’t seem to change them.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

I’ve also spent some time reading The Soul Speaks: The Therapeutic Potential of Astrology by Mark Jones. As is always the case, Mr. Jones’ work resonates at the deepest core of who I am, speaking to just about everything I’m interested in.

In the book, he references the work of James Hollis, a Jungian analyst. Hollis discusses the expectation that a person tends to have upon entering a therapeutic container, be it traditional therapy or an astrological consultation: that some magic will occur as the therapist traipses into the client’s psychic space, exorcising personal demons and promoting instantaneous healing.

In response to this expectation, Hollis points out that there is no guarantee against future suffering, that we have to be willing to disassemble our defenses in order to make progress, and that that progress will likely be slow going. Our original issues tend to stay with us through our entire lives, even if they change form. Jones takes the commentary further to illuminate the perils of having the astrologer-therapist accept the role of being magician.

Not really a strong platform for advertising therapy, is it?

As resistant as I’ve been to the idea that change is so slow, I also hear a truth in it. Especially when I combine it with my understanding of karma.

In the Vedantic teachings they talk about Samskara and Vasana — two kinds of karmic imprints. Vasana is more like a subtle tendency, whereas Samskara is a wound that is associated with the concept of karmic gravity. Samskara is based on trauma and is repetitive karma. It is based on impulses that we could not complete in past lives and that therefore get replayed over and over again. This is the essence of most of our karma, and part of the reason patterns change so slowly is because there is a weight to them that causes repetition.

According to the Tibetan Book of the Dead, when consciousness leaves the body and is no longer rooted in the dense structures of the body, it is able to create reality based on thought instantaneously. This is why the Tibetans put such emphasis on ‘dying well,’ and on being aware of the transition: so that as our consciousness transfers out of the body we are able to traverse the afterlife states in a way that facilitates our healing, and transfer into another life without the weight of so much karma. A truly incredible documentary on the process can be found here.

The theory, as well as my experience in past-life regression work, would say that when we die unconsciously (as so many of us do), we transition with all of that weight. We die thinking, “why did he leave me” or “I never have enough,” or “I’ll never get out of this.” These thoughts create reality in the afterlife. We transition through the afterlife often without knowing what’s happened. The weight of the emotional and physical content remains as imprints in our energy bodies, which reincarnate with us in the next life. The cycle continues.

So yes, patterns change slowly. They have a weight to them.

I have a particular relationship pattern I’ve been working with consciously for about five years now, surrounding my fear of abandonment and loss. I’ve done ritual around it many times, worked on it in therapy and regression, and gotten understanding about it through astrology. It retained a charge for a long time at all levels, however. I would have physical reactions when it was triggered, in the form of back and neck pain; emotional reactions in the form of sobbing breakdowns; and mental reactions in the form of my mind racing, which just increased my anxiety.

A few weeks ago something happened to trigger the pattern. Afterwards, I found myself walking down the street, thinking about what had happened, when I suddenly realized: I wasn’t in pain. I wasn’t struggling to breathe under the onslaught of anxiety. I didn’t feel like crying at all. All that still remained was my awareness of the fact that my mind was trying to engage its loop of racing thoughts. The emotional and physical charges, however, were no longer there. I clapped my hands with glee and ran off to the metaphysical store where I work to share with a friend.

That’s not to say the pattern is entirely gone. I’ve felt it rearing its head as life has continued throwing me triggers. The astrological counseling, ritual work and everything else I’d done to try and change the pattern had all combined together with time and perseverance to help me move through the pattern. It’s not gone, not forgotten — but something has shifted.

My experience of that shift goes a long way towards mediating the frustration I sometimes feel when I seem to be stuck in a loop, with outside forces exerting the same pressure in the same spots over and over again. Time will tell as to the long-term effects. But for now, it felt like a great example of the Virgo-Pisces axis that is so emphasized right now: recognizing a pattern, and letting it go.

The Meanie and the Mind of the Clock

This week’s relationship-themed guest-post comes from Christina Louise Dietrich, whom we’ve featured a few times in the last year or so. She writes about her healing journey at her own blog. — Amanda P.

By Christina Louise Dietrich

Time and its invisible, arbitrary, relentless, uncaring structure is my go-to method for bullying my 5-year-old son, Avery. This was made crystal-clear to me on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday morning because Brendan and I chose to pay particular attention to a recurrent behavioral pattern of mine that loves to show up around transitions: the Meanie.

Christina Louise Dietrich

Christina Louise Dietrich

The Meanie is fucking mean and she doesn’t care. She’s mean because she wants to have impact, wants to be taken seriously, wants to have some control over how time is being spent. Or wasted, as the case may be. Change and its inevitable transitions are her nemesis because they are difficult enough to navigate among consenting adults who agree on the basic structure of time—but when a small child is involved?

A small child who also happens to be a master of the universe and general force of nature? A child who is wholly present to and engaged with whatever he’s doing, no matter what, and Mama why are you not watching me play this game right now? If you’ve spent any time around kids, you know exactly what I mean, right? They don’t WANT to change what they’re doing to transition and come do whatever we say “it’s time” to do.

What have I got that’s half so interesting as moving water and sand and half-rotten pears around between buckets to make yard soup with specially seasoned ants? Nothing; that’s what. Unless it’s candy or a power tool, then…maybe.

So, what’s one of the most contentious transitions a modern American family can experience? What gets my anxiety up and ensures the Meanie has a hot mess of compost to come plant herself in?

Getting everyone out of the house by 8:00 am so we can ride together to work and school.

I’m sure your family has a version of this. An episode of family drama that gets enacted over and over: constrained by time, fueled by a chronic low-grade state of exhaustion, and brought to a roiling boil by the addition of a child who wants what he wants and what he wants is to be neither helpful nor efficient. Apparently. Because getting dressed and leaving the house when you’d rather lounge about, eat raisins, and watch videos? Fuck. That. Am I right?

So. Wednesday morning. 7:43 am. I’d been having a pretty good morning; no major disturbances or disasters, my baseline wakefulness was above average. I later had no explanation for what was about to occur. I got triggered by something—maybe I was secretly harboring resentment over making lunches when it “wasn’t my job,” maybe I got anxious because I “should” have been at work already, catching up on project management homework. Probably both.

Thing about core patterns and their triggers is they sneak up on me and grab the wheel before I realize what’s happening. Because they’ve been here so long they’re really skilled at hiding in my blind spots and convincing me they don’t exist.

I remember feeling a surge of anxious energy in my chest and solar plexus, and suddenly I was in the Mind of the Clock. I noticed that Avery didn’t have his shoes on yet and was playing Legos on the front porch as I came out to stage bags for the trip downstairs to the car. The Meanie was poised and ready because if she holds one thing sacred it’s that The One Right Way to Transition is Quickly and Without Dawdling, Dilly-Dallying, or Farting Around.

“Avery, put your shoes on please; it’s time to get in the car.” (She likes to hide behind “manners.”)

*tick tock tick tock tick tock tick*

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing or respond in any way. To the Meanie, this is an open invitation to start Driving the Situation. Bring the shoes to him, put them down right next to him, and then stand there, hands on hips and say “Put your shoes on. Now.” I say this with the air of threat in my voice, the implication of consequences. After all, Time is on My Side. I’ve interrupted what he’s doing, forced myself into his reality, and am now applying pressure, using time as a crowbar.

Shoes finally on, I proceed down the stairs, focused on meeting my next milestone even though I can hear him calling me to “Wait, Mama! I want to go with you!” “Fuck no,” thinks the Meanie, “you had your chance to come with me two minutes ago and you wasted it!” But he keeps calling me and it sounds like he’s about to cry. Meanie hasn’t yet committed to a Scene on the Front Lawn, so I turn around and come back to stand at the bottom of the stairs. Where I project irritation and disbelief.

He stops halfway down the stairs to enact a critical point in a story I’m not even close to tracking. I’m standing there, seething, every second feeling like torture and failure. I am wasting time waiting for him, I think. I’m trapped. ALL I WANT TO DO IS MOVE FORWARD AT MY SPEED. WHY THE HELL IS HE SO SLOW?

About 30 seconds later (which honestly felt like WHOLE MINUTES) I hear myself say in the meanest way possible “I’m done here. I’m TIRED of waiting for you!” I turn away and walk toward the car. I hear him yell “MAMA NOOOO!” followed by little feet pounding on stairs. And then, because he’s upset and trying so hard to hurry and please me, he trips on the last step and falls down chest-first on the sidewalk. He explodes in tears.

Inside my head, Meanie says “He did that on purpose.” I roll my eyes dramatically and take a big, heaving breath because I am SO INCONVENIENCED and now I have to deal with comforting a child pulling manipulative bullshit tricks like falling down the stairs to get attention and thwart me in my need to Be Timely and Efficient.

I look up to the porch and there’s Brendan, watching the whole scene. He yells angrily, “What the hell are you doing?! He’s trying to fulfill your arbitrary demands and your anxiously pushing on him is making it worse! We aren’t even late yet—why are you being so MEAN?!” My whole body got tight and hot with shame, sadness, remorse, and unspent meanness. The Meanie just got seen. Big Time.

During the ride to work, she got contradicted big time because Brendan had the skill and presence to lovingly hold space for me and the pattern, and the beginning stages of my coming to see and understand what it was about. The Meanie is an adaptation I developed to deal with the fact that I was rushed through transitions as a child. Chronically.

I suspect you might have had a similar experience. The lifestyles and parenting approaches our society enforces don’t afford people the time or teach them the skills to respect one another during transitions. And since we don’t actually view children as full persons, we respect their space less. During transitions, even less. We have internalized the Mind of the Clock; the scheduled bells and report cards and compartmentalized activities have trained us to MOVE when “time is of the essence.”

Because undirected playtime looks a whole lot like “wasting time.” Moving slowly looks like “farting around” or “being defiant.” Being fully present in the moment means you aren’t aware of time, you aren’t “trying to get somewhere” because where you’re at is perfection. Children live in the present, so time is meaningless (and, frankly, stupid) to them. To adults who have already been indoctrinated, who have become a servant to alarms and schedules—at a core level, that fact is infuriating.

We didn’t get to be our full selves. We gave up our authenticity because preserving our parental attachments was more important. We didn’t really have a choice. The Meanie doesn’t want Avery to be his authentic full self. She wants him to adopt the ancestral pattern and help me bear the anxious weight of having traded away my divinely-inspired playtime. So that we could Hurry Up and Get Somewhere.

I’m finally beginning to see that Right Here is the most valuable thing we have. The Meanie is showing me how terrifying time is for her; how she thinks it means she has no control and will disappear. Because that was her lived experience; she had no control and her desires did disappear. My authentic self disappeared and it’s taken me almost 40 years to reclaim her.

I don’t want that for Avery, so in the search to find an alternate approach, I’m consciously giving up rushing him whenever possible. I’ve decided there are few things in the world worth my forcing him to choose between doing what inspires him, and pleasing me.

————-

Christina Louise Dietrich, a technical writer by trade, says of herself: “I write because I am claiming the voice my family and my society tried to silence, the voice that was my divine birthright. I am a woman, a mother, a feminist, a wife. I am compassionate, judgmental, loving, a bully, empathetic, obstinate, caring, rigid, and creative. I’m passionate about systems, beauty, process, experience, trees, interconnections, transitions, logistics, balance, and clarity. I manifest the Amazon, the Androgyne, and the Mother-to-be-Crone.”

Doing The Right Thing

By Judith Gayle | Political Waves

“Ethics is nothing else than reverence for life.”
–Albert Schweitzer

This week, American citizens — or at least the more than fifteen million of them that tuned in to the debate in Las Vegas — were stunned to discover that politics does not have to be a contact sport, blood letting and circus act. They’d largely forgotten, if they knew at all, that intelligent people have no need to talk over one another, toss out insults, and behave like loons in order to make their point.

275+Judith_Gayle

Don’t get me wrong, there were diverse personalities on stage and not all of them above throwing a jab, as did Clinton about Sanders’s voting record on gun control, although both candidates have earned a solid and disapproving F from the National Rifle Association on gun rights. But by and large, the conversation was stimulating, the proceedings respectful and the politics progressive, except for ex-senator and military minded Jim Webb, whom one pundit described as a “perfectly respectable Republican.”

By the way, if you’re interested in finding out where each of our candidates — right and left — stand on policy as reflected by their record,you can find that information here.

If you read on-line and watch cable news, you will discover that everyone won the debate (except Webb and poor Lincoln Chaffee, who seems a very nice man but not up to the rigors of a presidential run). Polls, blogs, and forums all report that whoever you liked going in, you thought won at the end of the evening. Obviously, we like the sound of our thoughts echoed back to us.

Big Bill sent out an e-mail to the faithful, crowing that Hillary had swept the event, and mainstream (read that corporate) media agreed. She seemed poised and polished, having been at this ‘public scrutiny’ thing for most of her adult life, and offered an authentic and passionate moment when she discussed the Republican attack on Planned Parenthood. Hillary has an impressive record working with and for women.

On the other hand, alternative media and progressive sites all agreed that Bernie had won, having set the agenda that the Warren Wing of the Democratic party had embraced, heart and soul. Sanders led in all the casual polls and forums, and raised over a million dollars that evening,  and two more million over the next two days, all from small contributors. The loser of the evening was probably Joe Biden, who, should he still be looking for a reason to run, found none.

The Pubs behaved as expected, most of them either professing boredom or referring to the debate as a conversation about “giving away free stuff,” like Medicare and Social Security. Lindsey Graham couldn’t bring himself to watch the whole thing, Trump couldn’t figure out why everyone was so nice to each other, and Karl Rove called Bernie “an elderly dyspeptic Bilbo Baggins,” still unaware, I suspect, that those on the left — and even much of moderate America — would gladly vote for Bilbo over any of the narrowly drawn bully-boys running on the right.

Now, if things go as currently projected and Hillary gets the most caucus votes, it seems clear that she has plenty of energy and confidence for the run and, although an Establishment politician, will have the loyalty of voters on the left. If, however, Bernie captures the nomination, there is very little about the man’s politics to object to in terms of where he wants to take domestic policy, even among many Republican voters who view Hillary through a filter of literally decades of disdain. Those wobbling righties who refuse to vote for a Democrat under any circumstance might look at their own candidate and decide an Independent who wants to take on Wall Street is not so bad.

That’s the report on the political week, up to the actual topic I want to discuss today, which is character — national, presidential, and individual. I think of Eric’s discussions about the Pluto/Uranus energies, echoed again this week with the activity in Virgo, when I consider how far we’ve slid down the zip line since the sixties. The antithesis of the altruistic, spiritually-inclined anti-establishment qualities I knew as a kid is represented in the needle-swing of today’s Republican Party, whose mistrust of government verges on manic, along with a frightening disregard for intellectual discourse and the measured but secular response of science or social science.

They are no longer interested in electing the smartest candidate in the crowd, they’re going for the brashest. They have no love of religious scholarship that asks big questions seeking larger answers, they’re more comfortable with snake-handlers and creationists. They cotton to Ayn Rand’s manifesto that the superior man takes what he wants and deserves what he takes, with no mind to the ideals of the republic and its commonwealth that have provided them the freedom to think so.

And ethics? When Donald Trump declared that God was awesome  — because He’d made that wonderful golf course he was so lucky to have purchased at a heckuva  bargain — and lost no polling points, had no evangelical pastor thunder against his shallowness from the pulpit, caused no mainstream media pundit to question the ineptitude of his response as a sop to the Religious Right, it is easy enough to surmise that ethics has no place in the right-wing. That’s the same right-wing whose purity tests are so stringent that very few Pubs can live their life ‘out loud’ and pass them — and so they don’t.

Which brings me back to Tuesday night’s debate. A few things happened that made me think ethics might be making a welcome comeback. Most everyone heard about Bernie’s deflecting the heat off Hillary for her e-mail dilemma, winning him approval and applause from those who consider the issue another of the time-wasting tactics the right likes to employ. I suspect that’s where Trump would have pounced, and where he began to scratch his head at such polite behavior. Indeed, nobody was expecting Mr. Sanders’ exasperated response to a loaded question, especially Mrs. Clinton whose face showed not just relief but absolute joy.

Now we could say that Bernie made that comment based on his dislike for political posturing and personal attack, that he was just living up to his pledge not to bash other candidates. Or we might say that his answer was an extraordinarily clever hop-scotch over a Hillary-centric question in order to make way for his own message (which he then delivered). But since Bernie is not scripted, I’m going to take him at his word; an explanation given to a reporter right after the debate, who asked why he’d done it. “It was,” said he, “the right thing to do.”

Sanders typically does what he thinks is right. For instance, when asked about black lives mattering, Bernie had the right answer, which drew thunderous applause and preempted the question. In his response, he mentioned the name of Sandra Bland — the young black woman who was arrested for a traffic violation in Waller County, Texas this summer, found hanging in her cell three days later — which he’d promised her mother he would do when they lunched together recently.

The meeting was accidental, and remained confidential, despite the kind of political volume it would have engendered, much like the dust-up over the Pope’s meeting with Kentucky’s anti-gay poster child and religious zealot, Kim Davis. Clearly, Sanders’ decision not to exploit that occasion was an ethical decision that would have gob-smacked the average politico, who would have found some covert way to leak his growing bona fides with the black community, pre-debate.

Doing the right thing — despite the consequences — is within Bernie Sanders’s character, and I can’t tell you for sure that such ethical politics won’t disqualify him for the American presidency. That will be largely up to us as a culture and a constituency, able in the next months to push the nation into a return to ethical rule of law designed to meet public need, committing ourselves to that movement — or not.

I’m not bashing Hillary in this piece, as she’s doing a fine job of leaning as left as she can without cutting the threads she’s spent a lifetime weaving into the monetized politics of corporate neo-liberalism. If the left holds her to campaign promises, she may overcome her moderation to make some waves on domestic issues. I’m less hopeful about international entanglement.

But doing the right thing is something many of us have found a resonance for — some even a passion — not just in our own lives but projected into the community and beyond to government. So much that we see on a daily basis seems the wrong thing to do, institutionalized, politicized and stubbornly unyielding. So much is just plain unethical.

For instance, it’s hard to argue against a call for free (or even reasonably priced) public education when we discover that outstanding student loans amount to over a trillion dollars, a good portion of that in profit to the government, or hear of seniors dependent on Social Security having their checks garnished for back payment.

It’s difficult to justify multi-billions in corporate welfare to businesses that not only don’t need a hand, but don’t pay a cent in taxes to the nation that continues to feed them with perks and public money, while still playing with the notion of further cuts to the safety net.

It’s ridiculous to note the uptick in medical insurance and pharmaceutical costs when it’s clear that the prices being charged are “all the market can bear,” even though the free market isn’t free, the fair market is only a glimmer in a progressive’s eye, and all the market can bear is akin to Ayn Rand in perpetual orgasm. And that’s just the obvious.

It’s not the right thing to continue doing so much that we do these days, including celebrate bogus holidays that were politicized from the git-go. Since we’re just past it, let’s take Columbus Day as a likely example of how much we got wrong — and how diligently some of us are trying to make it right.

As I’ve already exceeded my word limit (!) I’ll offer a few quotes and links, for your exploration. This is a topic dear to the heart of natives of this nation and continent, and those of us who identify with them. I like what David Swanson has to say about Christopher Columbus, who we should all acknowledge was cruel to the point of sadism, possibly even a sociopath, and responsible for beginning a genocide that eliminated over 90% of this continent’s indigenous population even BEFORE the Pilgrims landed:

“Columbus was not a particularly evil person. He was a murderer, a robber, an enslaver, and a torturer, whose crimes led to possibly the most massive conglomeration of crimes and horrific accidents on record. But Columbus was a product of his time, a time that has not exactly ended. If Columbus spoke today’s English he’d say he was “just following orders.” Those orders, stemming from the Catholic “doctrine of discovery,” find parallels through Western history right down to today’s “responsibility to protect,” decreed by the high priests of the United Nations.

 

Evil is almost always mundane, is it not? A feisty little Italian, given to overreach, trying to impress the leaders of his country and church, while making a little stash for himself? A man not unlike some we know today. So long as we continue this antiquated notion of Manifest Destiny and colonialism, pushing ourselves where we’re not wanted in search of resources not ours — as long as we pretend that might makes right and profit is all that matters — we continue to be the anachronistic evil that infects the human race.

There are communities all across this nation changing out Columbus Day activities for celebrations of their native peoples, like Seattle’s Indigenous People’s Day. All it takes for that kind of sanity to spread is an educated population, respect for humankind and yes, a determination to do what’s right. Besides those already indicated, here are a couple more links worth your time — weekend reads, if you will — the first from people’s historian, Howard Zinn.

The Real Christopher Columbus

As Cities Give Columbus the Boot, Indigenous Peoples Day Spreads Across US

Doing the right thing is a matter of personal consciousness, of course, but it should look like, feel like, a higher calling than self-seeking and aggrandizement. An easy enough template to follow: whenever it looks like an ego-stroke, you can bet it is one.

When we live our life reaching up for that ‘right thing,’ integrity not only becomes easier, it becomes easier to notice when it’s absent. That’s where many of us find ourselves today — sensitized to what’s gone missing, and longing for it. The magic of transformation is found in doing what’s right instead of what’s easy.

If enough of us adopt that philosophy, the collective mind will change for the better, and perhaps in exercising those spiritual muscles we will find that we’ve discovered our purpose. Like Albert Schweitzer — a man of great compassion and a lifetime of service — told us, “Example is not the main thing in influencing others. It is the only thing.”

It does seem to be Bernie’s thing, and a number of others I can think of, but few of them with a stomach for politics. Maybe we need to make it our thing, too, if we’re to create the personal, as well as collective, world we’re yearning for.