By Amanda Moreno

I’ve been struggling all evening with what to write about in light of another massacre, and then how to write about it seeing as I’m at a loss for words. The thing that keeps popping into my mind is how many times I’ve had to write about shootings and similar massacres in the two years I’ve been writing for Planet Waves. I can’t believe we’re here again, and yet… here we are. I just have to close my eyes and breathe.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

I didn’t really respond emotionally to this shooting until Tuesday — two days after the fact. I talked with a friend about it on Monday and we both remarked on the feeling of surreality and numbness.

Tuesday, however, as I climbed the hill towards my office, which is nestled in Seattle’s ‘gay’ neighborhood, in the home of the oldest LGBTQ mental health agency in the world, I could feel the waves of grief wafting down to greet me.

The shock began to melt into feeling as I met with my boss and later attended a staff meeting that had been called specifically to give the staff a chance to be together while being fed. Never underestimate the power of having someone else take care of things like food in a time of trauma.

I sat there with my coworkers, the majority of whom identify as some brand of queer and many of whom are people of color. It was then that my heart began to break.

One of the things I’ve grappled with in the past is that when these shootings happen, I feel a sense of distance that is somewhat dismaying and yet a blessing at the same time. I usually get a hit of the collective grief, say some prayers and let it all run through, but I fear at some level that I’m being desensitized. That fear of desensitization came home to roost even more this time around, as I felt totally detached. Perhaps it was just shock.

But then, sitting in that space where I could so acutely feel the many layers of emotion swimming all around and through me, amongst the members of a community I’ve been dedicated to working with for eight years, I listened to my coworkers and dear friends open up about their sadness and anger and their fears of being targeted at work or at our upcoming Pride celebrations. I cried as others pointed out their urge to be more fully out and proud and loving.

I realized how much this event has triggered prior experiences of being persecuted, stigmatized and often emotionally and physically assaulted for being different. I realized the complexity of intersectionality and how many layers there are to this event.

I recognized the power and preciousness of the fact that the entire agency is holding space for community members to come in to grieve and process, while at the same time being aware that this space is being held by people going through those same processes. I felt humbled — and I felt my heart breaking in a way that didn’t feel desperate or bottomless. Instead, I felt full of a heart-achingly bittersweet love. I realized that while my heart goes out to the victims in Orlando and their loved ones, my heart is in, and hurting and crying for, my community here in Seattle.

It hit me then — it’s my community this time. As I witnessed and felt other people’s grief, anger and fear I just wanted to be there to let it flow through me and to hold space and be fully present. It was a profound and exhausting heartbreak that was all at once detached and yet consuming.

Then something else hit me — the same thing that always rises to the surface for me in any of our too-frequent collective moments of despair — but much stronger this time. I was overwhelmed with how much I love these people and this community. Finally, words came: I love you all so, so, so, so, so, so much.

I left that office and went to my next job, at a metaphysical shop in the same neighborhood. The emotional landscape there was similarly intense and palpable. Once again, it was marked by the experience of community coming together to process and love — with more hugs this time. The essence inside me remained the same: just love. Love through this with all you are. Keep loving as much as you can.

A friend came in remarking that on Saturday she had just wanted to preach to the world that love is the only way, and that now she understands why she’d had that urge.

So yes, it’s true — this is not the first time I’ve had to address a shooting in this space. But it’s also true that this is not the first time an experience has been distilled down to one essential personal truth. Each event brings home the necessity of unconditional, and sometimes detached, love and my own personal belief that the only antidote and the only way through all of this remains the same: keep loving; love harder, love bigger, love more; just keep loving. When the shock and grief and anger begin to lift, keep dancing. Keep celebrating. Keep finding and creating spaces of radical inclusion that foster our ability to be as authentic as possible.

Being part of the queer community has been so important in my own efforts to figure out and follow through with my own unique spark of being, in all my outside-the-box ways. It’s also a community that tends to focus on holding space for grief and processing and communication, and I’m so very grateful for that.

I realize not everyone can get on board with the ‘just look for love in it’ mantra, and that some of us need to go through the anger and rage, but for me the only thing that makes sense is to hold space in the name of radical love and compassion. I am not afraid of death. I am not afraid of being targeted. So perhaps the biggest stand I can take is to keep being wildly and unapologetically myself in all of my queer glory, in hopes that through doing just that I help to make space for others to do the same.

Curious about what the epic Uranus-Eris conjunction means for you? Intrigued by the dance of Neptune and Chiron in Pisces? In our exciting new class with Eric Francis, The Astrology of Now, your questions will receive thoughtful and insightful answers — and you’ll have lots of fun in the process. You may sign up here.

There is nothing wrong with you if you feel affected by the scale and depth of the recent tragedy in Orlando. It is not a flaw for you to be both weary and wary of senseless violence. It is also important to remember that fear and grief are not your natural state of being.

You are a living being. You are naturally suited to sustain and nurture life. That’s a good thing, not a weakness. You are also a very human being, not a machine. Your feelings, vulnerabilities and needs are not liabilities, they are assets.

While none of us are perfect, there is reason to believe that nearly all of the people you meet share your goodness and assets. For that reason, there is also a firm basis to believe that there is a way to turn things around and make the world safer for its children.

The astrology of this coming week is emblematic of what you can do. The metaphor developing on the zodiac since last Friday is one that implicitly empowers you. It has to do with the so-called ‘personal planets’. That would include the luminaries (Sun and Moon), along with Mercury, Venus and (probably) Mars.

But it is not the personal planets alone. It is their relationship with the rest of the zodiac’s components in a holistic picture. That picture started to develop late on Sunday night.

As Sunday segued into yesterday, Mercury left Taurus behind and entered Gemini. A few hours later, the Moon left Virgo behind and entered Libra.

Gemini is one of two signs (along with Virgo) where Mercury is said to rule. Mercury is now more at home than it was during its long retrograde tenure in Taurus (nearly two months). Implied by Mercury’s transition into Gemini is a greater potential to quicken and refresh the largely (but not exclusively) mental qualities of Mercury as they manifest in your life.

What Mercury is to the intellect, the Moon is to emotions. Having the Moon move away from a weekend in Virgo to spend a few days in Libra implies a more suitable environment for a flow of compassion to prevail.

Then, yesterday, Neptune commenced a long retrograde of its own, nearly in the middle of Pisces. The relationship between Neptune and Pisces is much the same as Mercury’s relationship with Gemini. It’s home. It is the planet’s domain. Neptune, however, moves a lot more slowly than Mercury does.

Neptune is also a lot more impersonal (albeit deceptively so) than Mercury is. Hence, it will take a while, but eventually we will probably be able to look back at yesterday and note that a turn-around commenced. More specifically, before the end of this year, we will very possibly be able to look back to yesterday and note how a period of collective deception culminated, yielding to a time of communal reflection.

Speaking of culminations and beginnings, next Monday (June 20) will bring the second Sagittarius Full Moon in a row. That is followed hours later by the Sun leaving its present place in Gemini, and entering Cancer to initiate a solstice and a new season. The most personal and familiar of the sky’s objects (Sun and Moon) will have the symbolic last word as regards to what transpired over the weekend just past. The implication in your life is that the actual last word will be yours to speak and act on.

If there is anything to astrology, it is you — and people like you — who will make the difference. If there is a difference to be made in the wake of the fear and grief felt by so many since last week, it will not be made by nations. Nor will corporations, or even cultural institutions be the ones to lead the way. Rather, it will be you.

In your hands is the power to begin a new season for humanity and the world. You can begin simply. Give others no reason to fear you. Act so as to give others no reason to grieve. It will mean being vulnerable, and transparently so. It will also entail being tolerant, especially when you are strongly tempted to be critical. Perhaps most of all, you should consider publicly gathering with others of like mind to demonstrate that you are not afraid to affirm and support the sustenance of life and the support of love, whatever form they take.

Whatever their form, life is preferable to the alternative, and love is answer. And right now the answer needs you. Come out from behind locked doors. Divest yourself of violent means. Be the safe and compassionate quality the world needs to have. Let a new season of peace on Earth begin with you.

Offered In Service

Curious about what the epic Uranus-Eris conjunction means for you? Intrigued by the dance of Neptune and Chiron in Pisces? In our exciting new class with Eric Francis, The Astrology of Now, your questions will receive thoughtful and insightful answers — and you’ll have lots of fun in the process. You may sign up here.

By Rob Moore

Ugh. I can remember the feeling now as some old man would burn a hole through me with his eyes while grinning devilishly. It was something I experienced again and again as a young adult. Out with my friends of like age, I was somehow a magnet for much, much, older — ridiculously older — men. And the more I resisted, the more it seemed to turn them on.

Ocean Reflection by Rob Moore

I would always say that I did not want to be like that in my later years. I would also observe that, given my recurring resistance, it was probably exactly where I was headed. And so it was. Kind of. I do indeed very frequently like ‘em younger. The glimmer of hope, however, is being able to remember what it felt like being in their shoes.

I have therefore both observed and experienced it: sexual desire and sexual drive is not necessarily age discriminatory.

Whether it’s Mars’ continuing retrograde passage through Scorpio or the fact that Venus is flying very closely to the Sun these days, I’ve been considering some of the bigger picture questions of intimate connection lately. With a lot of emphasis continuing on sexual introspection, any of us could be reviewing where we’re at with sex and intimacy at this stage in our lives.

Periodic blackout binges with alcohol landed me in AA by age 24. Those years spent in meetings were just the beginning of a more rewarding way of approaching this life. I also got to learn firsthand the diversity of paths that can bring so many of us to the same place.

Among the many faces I would see regularly was a man in his late 60s who had just gotten divorced from his wife of 35 years after coming to grips with his homosexuality. Having spent a lifetime in literal denial of his sexual truth, it was at retirement age and in physical decline that he was champing at the bit to make up for so much lost time. My heart went out to him and others like him. I could see how feelings of urgency as well as being ‘owed’ something must be coloring everything within viewing distance.

The feelings such situations brought up in me most were of wanting very much to be completely satiated and settled well before my golden years. And yet, the sexual experience I wanted was slow to come. Furthermore, the more experiences I did have and the older I got, the more offbeat and complicated the sexual bucket list became. I ultimately came to realize that when it comes to heartfelt desires and life paths, ‘completely satiated and settled’ is the equivalent of chasing a rainbow.

As it has turned out, it has been in most recent times, as I have crossed the big 5-0 threshold, that sex and physical intimacy have been most fulfilling. My 30s were quite exciting but I put a damper on my experiences by incessantly scanning to see if they were my ‘soul mate’ or not. What makes sexual adventures so rewarding today is an openness to the possibility of connecting with any number of ‘soul mates’ along the way, each with a unique set of truths to teach and learn.

We all experience the various facets of this life in different and deeply personal ways. In our teens, though, we tend to be walking hormones. Youth angst is prevalent. We aren’t sure why we want what we want. All we know is we want it when we want it. Physical urges often prevail over emotional and psychological considerations.

Although males are often attributed with remaining in the aforementioned state most of their lives, the need for more deeply fulfilling emotional connections usually develops in our 20s regardless of gender.

When our first Saturn return takes place around age 29, some sort of coming of age is in the works. This is where it can be notably different for each of us. For many, it’s when the decision to raise a family calls. For me, I at last decided to embrace the kink scenes that had been part of my psyche since I was 12. It wasn’t a clean sweep to such scenes, though. I still intermittently tried to fit into the ‘perfect couple’ mold.

So while some of us decide to explore our sexual options, others turn a different direction and effectively close that door. In either circumstance, life experiences, inspirations and discoveries — particularly around our Uranus and Saturn oppositions in our 40s — can give rise to a very different set of priorities.

My Neptune square and Uranus and Saturn oppositions turned my life inside-out and upside-down. Maybe it’s not so dramatic for most people but I became infuriated that such a ground-shaking era could be tied up in a neat little package called ‘midlife crisis’, during which we all supposedly try to recapture our sophomore year in college.

My 40s were less about sex than my previous adult years. Due in large part to physical illness, this was the period when my metaphysical aims were brought front and center. After perceiving visual guidance for many years, I became able to access audible guidance. The world was telling me I was nuts, and all the while a strong case was being made from what I was tapping into that, if anything, it was the other way around.

I think it is the bigger picture of this phase of life that illustrates a similar experience for us all. Whatever we’ve put on hold or in the backseat comes to the forefront. If the nuclear family was chosen over other equally heartfelt desires, those desires are brought up for review. It is for this reason that midlife transition gets a reputation for chasing sex and the glory of youth.

I can’t reiterate enough how strongly I feel that our midlife transition is a monumental journey into ourselves. I can only empathize with those relative few who feel moved enough to uproot from everything they’ve built to recapture some aspect of themselves. If my experience demonstrates anything, such drastic measures are not necessarily required to get to a most welcomed truth of our longings during this period.

As the metaphysical happenings took over in my transition years, I resigned myself to the idea that my days of sexual exploration were basically over. So profound were my experiences, I figured I was headed for an ashram. What actually happened, though, was that my willingness to yield completely to my nonphysical facets only served to refine and improve the way I experienced sex. Furthermore, it drove home what an integral part of my life path sexual connection is.

I would be quick, therefore, to allay any fears up-and-comers have that the innate restlessness and cloudiness of this life passage inherently leads to losing what is near and dear to us. Certain longings may well need to be explored. Scary as that may be for some, I believe if applied consciously, a greater level of appreciation for what we already value is the big news flash after all is said and done.

What I am pleased to report is that despite my clear-cut physical aging in recent years, as well as post-op inconveniences to deal with, a principle I believe I’ve really come to embody is that attractiveness is an inside job. It’s one of those things I don’t exactly understand; I’ve just found firsthand that it works. I think what I love most is that I don’t sit around nitpicking every little physical imperfection so much anymore. They’re there. I see them. But I no longer believe they are the determining factor in making key connections.

This new chapter of letting go has resulted in way more deeply gratifying sexual experiences because I’m so much more present now. But there’s something I find even more interesting:

At least 60% of the time, although a sexual attraction may draw me together with someone, that’s not what I find is needed to bring the deepest level of fulfillment. Particularly with the younger types I feel a connection with, I often find simply connecting on a heart level can wind up bringing the greatest satisfaction.

More than ever, I understand why those old men were trying to hit on me in my youth. There was indeed a sexual pull. I totally get it now. Because of that, I strive to consider such dynamics from a variety of angles. As attractive as someone may be, I now aim to take whatever time I need to ask what it is I really want here. Sex? Sometimes, yes. Very much, please. But very frequently it is just to have a connection with this person’s warmth or vitality. That can mean friend, creative cohort, teacher, student or something else.

That’s something I sure couldn’t have done in my raging-hormone youth. And probably not in my nab-a-soul-mate years. Thanks in part to those old men, though, it’s something I’m glad this old man can do today.

Curious about what the epic Uranus-Eris conjunction means for you? Intrigued by the dance of Neptune and Chiron in Pisces? In our exciting new class with Eric Francis, The Astrology of Now, your questions will receive thoughtful and insightful answers — and you’ll have lots of fun in the process. You may sign up here.

Unlike what is usual for the sky, events in the world and your life are not always regular and predictable. Even so, the cycles and patterns evinced by the Sun, Moon and planets above often find striking correspondence here below. Hence, the fundamentals of astrology: observation and correlation.

Observations make you aware. Correlations establish context. Context is fundamental to making connections. Some sense of connection might be useful (or at least comforting) for you right about now. That’s where Uranus sharing the same degree of Aries with Eris comes in.

You might reasonably ask how two distant planets might have anything practical to do with your life (or even the world). That would be a very good question. You deserve a good answer.

It’s not about influence. Uranus and Eris do their own thing far away. They do not, and will not, intercede to make a discernible difference on Earth. Yet, they both orbit the same Sun you (and your world) do. That means Uranus and Eris are part of the same system with you and your planet — the solar system.

One definition of a system is that any of its parts give you information about any other part, and about the system as a whole. No scientist, no matter how hostile to astrology, would deny that definition is true of the solar system. That single fundamental is the justification science has used to justify the effort and expense of exploring our local solar neighborhood, its place in the galaxy, and in the universe. You have witnessed the results.

It’s the technology developed to conduct cosmic explorations, and the data obtained that has undeniably influenced your life, not the planets themselves.You might fairly say something the same of astrology. Uranus and Eris cannot be demonstrated to directly cause anything or effect anybody in your life. Even so, you can observe how the symbolic nature of Eris and Uranus (in the context astrology provides) correlates with events in the world, and act on those observations to be the real and actual agent of cause and effect yourself.

Turns out the nature of Uranus and Eris have something in common. In both cases, their discovery upset the sense of order people projected on the universe. In each case, there was controversy as result. Finally, both Uranus and Eris were discovered during times when the sense of order on Earth was also being upset. To simplify things (but not too much), you might say that Uranus and Eris both correspond with revolution.

As for astrological context, there are three big factors. First, Uranus and Eris are currently sharing the same degree of the same sign for the first time in nearly 90 years. Astrologers call that a conjunction aspect.

Conjunctions have a nature of their own. First the aspect is thought to merge the qualities of the two constituent planets. Next, conjunctions are interpreted to represent an old cycle ending and a new cycle simultaneously beginning. Finally, due to their close proximity on the zodiac, conjoined planets imply a blind spot of sorts that can only be resolved with the detachment that will inevitably take place with the passage of time.

The second big factor in correlating the observation of Uranus and Eris in conjunction is that their symbolic merger is taking place in Aries, just like their immediately previous get-together in 1928. Aries is where the zodiac’s cycle of signs begins.

A second consecutive conjunction in Aries (among other possible interpretations) is thus a second chance to start over as regards to what Uranus and Eris in their conjunctive aspect symbolize. In this particular case, this being the first conjunction of Uranus and Eris since Eris was discovered, the implication is a second chance after having learned something vital and intrinsic since their previous conjunction.

The third big contextual consideration is the astrological background of the Uranus-Eris conjunction. It is happening just as Uranus is separating from an era-defining square aspect (a separation of 90 degrees) with Pluto in Capricorn. This offers a plausible image of one thing leading to another. In other words, cause and effect. That’s where you come in.

Also included in the astrological setting for the Aries conjunction of Uranus and Eris is this year’s defining mutable T-square, consisting of Jupiter in Virgo on the other side of the zodiac from Neptune in Pisces, with both of them in a simultaneous square aspect to Saturn in Sagittarius. Once again simplifying (but not too much), the overall indication is that something has to give.

So add it all up. Two planets associated with revolution. Both planets in conjunction in Aries for the second of two widely separated times.

That conjunction is, in turn, taking place as cause and effect — manifesting through you. You are being handed the baton of history, and the necessity to stop persisting with what cannot be sustained.

If astrology were arithmetic, the sum total would look something like the product of a multiplication.

Specifically implied is the multiplication of two like amounts (implied by the revolutionary nature Uranus and Eris have in common) which is what the word “square” means for mathematicians. The result of a square function involving any number bigger than one is at least the sum of its parts (as would be the case with two squared), if not more. In this case, all the things the Uranus-Eris conjunction alone correlates with indicates at least the possibility of much more.

Given the nature of conjunctions, it appears that you are in a good position to make your own calculations about what the ongoing merger Uranus and Eris means to you. You have the detachment that goes with 88 years separating you form the last time it happened. You have an awareness of Eris that people experiencing its previous conjunction did not have. You also have the astrological context, some of which represents a second chance, and some of which implies the necessity of a whole new ballgame.

You also have time. Uranus and Eris both move slowly. Their conjunction will continue to be in functional range for at least another year. What you might want to do with that time is to figure out what your role amounts to, and where you fit in the equation. If there is anything to astrology, you would be wise not to play small.

Odds are that your potential to directly influence the world is much bigger than Uranus and Eris combined.

Offered In Service

By Amanda Moreno

I recently had the opportunity to spend some unexpected time with a man I’ve grown quite platonically fond of. I’ve long lamented the seeming loss of my ability to gain new male friends at this point in my life. When they come in and it seems like there’s a chance for something to grow, I tend to be enthusiastic and excited.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

We met up at happy hour and then spent some time at his house playing music for each other. He tried to convince me why I should like baseball and I enjoyed watching him demonstrate batting techniques knowing that my learning about it was a lost cause but that I’d enjoy observing such a beautiful male form executing different batting styles in slow motion.

Then we decided to go to dinner. Somehow our conversation at dinner took a turn towards the political and derailed. It hugely derailed.

We’re two humans who share many values and left-leaning tendencies, and yet for the second or third time in my life I found myself giving into the mayhem of a full-on political argument. All I know was that he was ranting, and then my disagreement was seen as automatic opting into the opposite viewpoint, and that just pissed me off because in my world there are far more subtleties and gray areas.

I’m quite certain that the American political scene is dominated by football mentality, which is itself dominated by gladiatorial tendencies that did not die in ancient Rome but instead morphed and went somewhat underground, to emerge again in the more ‘civilized’ form of football. But that’s just my take.

We as a populace tend to ignore the fact that although our modern-day gladiators — known as football players — do not seek blood and gore, they are virtually guaranteed head injuries, chronic pain and an automatic gratitude for surgeons and physical therapists who can hopefully attempt to treat and correct the havoc the sport plays on their bodies.

Today we watch people’s bodies get smashed to pieces. But in a civilized manner.

It’s not so much the physical violence I refer to here, however, when I mention football mentality. It’s the black-and-white thinking: it’s your team or my team, and by god my allegiance to my team is supported by a legacy of family members who also cheered for this team, and I am going to die wearing their colors. No matter what.

This mindset is an unfortunate one to have in the political arena where things like critical thinking, which can and should lead to fluid and shifting beliefs and personal truths, is so crucial to constructive law making — and healthy societal shifts.

I realized during the conversation that my anger was stemming from feeling unheard and misunderstood as a statement like “I don’t know if I can vote for Hillary” was immediately translated into “so you’re supporting Trump.” My attempts to evenly discuss my belief that what is needed is full-fledged systemic change was met with cries of “that’s not realistic, you’re too idealistic,” and at this point in time, that argument is the one that I absolutely cannot swallow.

Especially when coupled with the notion that my generation (being the younger one — he’s a whopping 11 years older than me) is too unrealistic. The argument is that we’re not being practical when we cry out for a Bernie Sanders candidacy; or try to engage discussions about real, lasting reform of the system, which are met with accusations of being “too revolutionary.”

I have realized that for me, the real unrealistic course would be to stay on the one we’re on. It’s not realistic to refuse to deal with climate change in aggressive ways — actual science says that even if we were to stop climate change in its tracks (which we won’t), destructive changes like sea level rise are already a foregone conclusion. Our lived environment 40 years from now will be drastically different.

It’s not realistic to think that our current governmental system will or can change in ways that are drastic enough to get us out of the approximately 17,000 ways we are screwing up our ecosystem, our bodies, our communities, our relationships and economic system. Especially if we don’t see major shifts in party platforms, if not the structure of the parties themselves.

I hear arguments that Hillary deserves the presidency because she’s female or because she has been playing the game so long that she’s earned the right to be at the top, and my head feels like it’s going to explode — just to save my heart the ache of its seemingly inevitable full breaking. In some ways, for me, to see a woman candidate playing into the drama triangle of our current political system is even more soul numbing.

And then I realized that… the friend I was engaging with was in the same self-defensive place, too. So many of us are trying to work within the constructs we were raised to believe were the best in the world. The dream of the American way of life pervades so much of our global culture at this point in time, and giving up on it? That’s rough heartache right there. There is resistance. There is always resistance to grief. And defeat.

I walked away from my friend, after leaving the restaurant and standing outside my house for 15 minutes, conversation escalating. Part of me wanted to run back and hug him and apologize, but I didn’t. I realized I’d fallen under the spell of polarization myself, despite my whole being trying to call on communication skills and compassion. I was so angry and flustered. I felt so unheard and misunderstood at the same time as an awareness of how bleak the situation can seem crept over me.

I needed space. I woke up the next morning on the day of the Gemini New Moon and tried to reframe the conversation in terms of the ways it might offer me a new perspective.

Sometimes I wonder if revolution is becoming mandatory — or even a given — and I wonder what that means, what it will look like, and if we’re nearing a point where it will have to happen with a lot of discomfort for everyone involved. I’m aware that this meme is floating in the collective, be it consciously or not, and that so many are clinging onto their beliefs and ways of being with a brand of fundamentalism that can perhaps only be seen as a defense mechanism. When belief becomes defense mechanism — think shadow Sagittarius — our field of awareness narrows and we discount the ways our lived experiences tell us something different.

Of course my “we” is heavily colored towards the U.S. residents side of things. But perhaps the application of these ideas goes beyond that, to the wider world in which the American ‘Way of Life’ has become something to be sought after.

My friend and I both spend most of our lives trying to make the world a better place in our own ways. I know we share a level of heartbreak and disenchantment, but also a strong belief in hope and making that hope more active.

As I read Eric’s piece from earlier this week — aptly titled Mutable Grand Cross: Push Has Come to Shove I had to stop and take pause, and it brought me back home to something I struggle with: that although I know paying attention to the political situation is important, it also makes me feel impossibly hopeless and thoroughly impotent, especially as I try to find trustworthy sources. Digging in and trying to be the change and help others do the same is more palpable and centering. Finding the balance between the two can be difficult.

I’ll leave you with a few lines from Eric’s piece, as they deserve to be re-stated and encapsulate some of what I’ve found myself pondering, just as the whole piece deserves to be read:

Right now the world is drowning in good intentions. It’s drowning in people who want to be the best person they can be, which usually means waiting a long time before taking a chance. And the world is being consumed by rage in many forms, but one in particular stands out: a political system that is out of control, driven by a combination of blazingly ignorant and, in other quarters, well-meaning people who would seem to have little in common. I don’t think these are viable options, nor is the seeming standoff.

I suggest you not be distracted by it.