My younger son is writing a paper this week about the impact of climate change on young people. Think: anxiety, despair, the refusal to have children. It got me hunting down quotes from Rebecca Solnit.
She makes the point repeatedly that hope is an active state, one we choose out of dedication to justice and the future. I wonder where we got this idea that hope floats in and out of our lives like grace? An intangible, wispy thing that comes and goes with the weather?
I can’t tell you how many women that I marched with during tfg’s reign are deflated… how many postcarding, Congress-calling, hearing-attending friends are confessing a near refusal to take in the news.
I can’t tell if this is a temporary (and necessary) resting state or a recalibrated equilibrium. They probably can’t either.
So much to point to: voter nullification (forget suppression, folks), a mystifying reluctance to dispense with the filibuster even though the GOP is not only refusing to govern, they’re refusing to let the Democrats govern. The rising militias and anti-vaxxers and talk of civil war. The absolute insanity of some of the misinformation out there is so stunning (Jewish space lasers, aliens, bamboo ballots, Democrats tearing heads off babies to drink their blood, a stolen election) that you shake your head in disbelief and wonder, how could this have happened?
Yesterday I pressed a load of freshly washed fabric. Today I will do the same. And I will walk and say Metta. And write. And wait to hear from my editor.