anaturalwoman
01-22-2017, 04:00 PM
Loved S. Bliss' sense of this being our 3rd US revolution, led by women --thanks! Marcia Singer
“Isn’t Santa Rosa wonderful?!” exclaimed the bus driver. We were four passengers, me alone up front.I was beaming, too, watching thousands of peaceful, local marchers, signs held aloft.We waited for bus passage through. I’d just come from that crowd, still sporting my safety-pinned note, “Love Trumps Fear.”Mid-bus, a large Black man sat, dressed in orange Buddhist robing: hadn’t I seen him walking on Old Redwood Hiway near my house?Had he come to the local rally, too?
The crowds had made our ride twenty minutes late –but who cared? -- Such a show of support for equality, respect, caring and action to benefit us all. We’d come to sing for peace and shout out for justice, and listen to speakers sharing our broad, progressive, inclusive world view, our prayers for all living things, all sentient beings. Recognition that this election was sign of a deeper corruption and pain in our culture, our world, needing healing.
Signs held aloft, demanding universal healthcare, rights for women, immigrants, LGBTQ persons and pleas for protection for the earth flooded the town hall square.The tone was solidarity for humanity’s best dreams, protest against allowing our worst instincts to rule.And what a diverse rainbow of humanity we were!Young families with kids sporting hand-made “love & peace” signs, graying activists singing a rousing “I Got A Hammer,” teen groups and college youth with glaring pastel hair and piercings, dancing couples, and wheelchair bound vets. Near me, a young woman was handing out bumper stickers with spiritual themes, another older gal offered cookies from a large bag. Together, we'd come to publically stand up for what we value, and for our collective future.
And to think I nearly missed it!Worried about tiring myself out, standing too long on pavement, dealing with rain, crowd noises, traffic.Luckily, I thought to try Sonoma County Transit.Within minutes of boarding, I’d discovered three other older riders all headed to the rally: sweet!At the end of the line, we exited, wishing each other well, moving into the crowded streets. I loved the signs: clever, angry, irreverent, fervent, thoughtful: “The reality show has got to go.”“Make America Nice Again.” “11/9=9/11.” “No one is free while others are oppressed.” “Queer with no fear,” “Proud Nasty Woman.” “Girls Just Wanna Have FUNdamental Healthcare.”
I was pleased and proud I’d joined in. But my body was tiring, and I thought to catch the next bus back –nearly missing it, as the driver had showed up on the 'wrong' side of the street, due to the throngs. “Don’t you just love it?” she said.
Yes, indeed I did.And during the trip back to my hood, we opined about corporate greed affecting so many of our lives, including local bus drivers. She shared some of the challenges in working with the public, passengers struggling for dimes, food, a dry place to sleep, right medications.When I mentioned how some cities require protective shielding for drivers, she said she couldn’t live in a cage like that. She opts for being as respectful as possible to every passenger. Again and again, I was moved by her empathy for her riders, colleagues, everyone hurt by our politics of economic greed and inequality. We echoed each other, that it’s up to us to show up, speak out for a just, caring place to call home.And that sometimes you only get there, you only wake up through hurt and loss. And then realizing you can choose how you want to live.
As I was getting ready to exit, I asked this exemplary employee her name --“Teresa.” I wondered ifshe had a word for me to describe her philosophy of life and being on the job: “Evolving!” she replied.
Indeed, aren’t we all?
The Buddhist, wearing a damp, well worn grey jacket got off at the same stop. As I bowed to him in recognition, he said hopefully, ”Enlightenment,” asking if I might spare some change for a meal.I gave what I had left, he bid me well.As I walked down ORH back to my MHP, I spied treasured turkey tail mushroom growing on rotting logs; perfect for immune healthy tea.
–A glorious day to Be.Shining deLight, Marcia
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“Isn’t Santa Rosa wonderful?!” exclaimed the bus driver. We were four passengers, me alone up front.I was beaming, too, watching thousands of peaceful, local marchers, signs held aloft.We waited for bus passage through. I’d just come from that crowd, still sporting my safety-pinned note, “Love Trumps Fear.”Mid-bus, a large Black man sat, dressed in orange Buddhist robing: hadn’t I seen him walking on Old Redwood Hiway near my house?Had he come to the local rally, too?
The crowds had made our ride twenty minutes late –but who cared? -- Such a show of support for equality, respect, caring and action to benefit us all. We’d come to sing for peace and shout out for justice, and listen to speakers sharing our broad, progressive, inclusive world view, our prayers for all living things, all sentient beings. Recognition that this election was sign of a deeper corruption and pain in our culture, our world, needing healing.
Signs held aloft, demanding universal healthcare, rights for women, immigrants, LGBTQ persons and pleas for protection for the earth flooded the town hall square.The tone was solidarity for humanity’s best dreams, protest against allowing our worst instincts to rule.And what a diverse rainbow of humanity we were!Young families with kids sporting hand-made “love & peace” signs, graying activists singing a rousing “I Got A Hammer,” teen groups and college youth with glaring pastel hair and piercings, dancing couples, and wheelchair bound vets. Near me, a young woman was handing out bumper stickers with spiritual themes, another older gal offered cookies from a large bag. Together, we'd come to publically stand up for what we value, and for our collective future.
And to think I nearly missed it!Worried about tiring myself out, standing too long on pavement, dealing with rain, crowd noises, traffic.Luckily, I thought to try Sonoma County Transit.Within minutes of boarding, I’d discovered three other older riders all headed to the rally: sweet!At the end of the line, we exited, wishing each other well, moving into the crowded streets. I loved the signs: clever, angry, irreverent, fervent, thoughtful: “The reality show has got to go.”“Make America Nice Again.” “11/9=9/11.” “No one is free while others are oppressed.” “Queer with no fear,” “Proud Nasty Woman.” “Girls Just Wanna Have FUNdamental Healthcare.”
I was pleased and proud I’d joined in. But my body was tiring, and I thought to catch the next bus back –nearly missing it, as the driver had showed up on the 'wrong' side of the street, due to the throngs. “Don’t you just love it?” she said.
Yes, indeed I did.And during the trip back to my hood, we opined about corporate greed affecting so many of our lives, including local bus drivers. She shared some of the challenges in working with the public, passengers struggling for dimes, food, a dry place to sleep, right medications.When I mentioned how some cities require protective shielding for drivers, she said she couldn’t live in a cage like that. She opts for being as respectful as possible to every passenger. Again and again, I was moved by her empathy for her riders, colleagues, everyone hurt by our politics of economic greed and inequality. We echoed each other, that it’s up to us to show up, speak out for a just, caring place to call home.And that sometimes you only get there, you only wake up through hurt and loss. And then realizing you can choose how you want to live.
As I was getting ready to exit, I asked this exemplary employee her name --“Teresa.” I wondered ifshe had a word for me to describe her philosophy of life and being on the job: “Evolving!” she replied.
Indeed, aren’t we all?
The Buddhist, wearing a damp, well worn grey jacket got off at the same stop. As I bowed to him in recognition, he said hopefully, ”Enlightenment,” asking if I might spare some change for a meal.I gave what I had left, he bid me well.As I walked down ORH back to my MHP, I spied treasured turkey tail mushroom growing on rotting logs; perfect for immune healthy tea.
–A glorious day to Be.Shining deLight, Marcia
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