Each morning I rise early from my slumbers at a time when my home is still dark and quiet. I proceed with a routine mostly in the dark that involves making my morning cup of tea and microwaving a small tidbit for breakfast. I open all of the shutters and blinds downstairs and often see neighbors taking advantage of the lower temperatures of that time of day by walking for exercise. I suspect that their daily efforts keep them healthy and contribute greatly to lowering any anxieties that they many have. As for me, writing is my go to morning drill. The act of typing my thoughts onto a blank page is better than all of the exercise and pills for calming the concerns on my mind.
Some days I struggle to find a topic for my musings. On other days I am hardly able to move my fingers fast enough to capture the thoughts running through my head. I find composing to be one of the most relaxing things that I do for myself almost every single day. I suppose that if Sigmund Freud were to analyze me he would no doubt posit that I used writing to overcome my grief after my father died thus creating a lifelong habit associated with my difficulty in moving beyond that event. Regardless of the psychological reasons for why I love to paint word pictures with my thoughts the process has become a lifelong passion. It is a physical outlet for the ideas that race through my head.
I once dreamed of becoming famous for my wit and wisdom but soon enough realized the limitations of my ability to craft essays that keep the attention of my readers. It takes much more talent than I possess to become an author able to create a loyal following with words. Like homespun artists who create drawings and paintings beloved by family members but lacking in the kind of originality that moves them to the next level, I am a plain vanilla every day kind of author describing the limited ideas that I have. While I will never capture the big time, I suppose that I revel in the selfish idea of how soothing my artistry is to me personally.
I try not to rant too often but in truth the present time has me so concerned that most of my thinking focuses on the fears that rattle around in my brain. I see a nation that has become untethered from the ideals that we have never totally achieved but for which we seemed to be striving to one day attain. Instead our government feels broken and brokered by a single point of view emanating from a man who can’t seem to get past his personal need to be continually adored and praised. Like a small child Donald Trump insists that only those who bow to him will receive the rewards that he doles out in very strange ways.
I have been watching the professional journalists slowly becoming a bit more combative by recording the lies that Trump parses out daily. Nonetheless there is still a reticence and tendency to cloak their rebuttals in wishy washy words that don’t quite deliver the truths that they would normally tell. There is a kind of fear of Trump in far too many quarters while independent journalists are telling it like it is. Sadly the vast majority of Americans have no idea that such wise writers actually exist and so their investigations and their truths are all too often seen only by those who take the time to find them.
I suppose that if I had to choose one aspect of our Bill of Rights that I would literally die for it would be the freedom of press. Each of us has the right to speak our minds but the Trump administration all too often bullies anyone who chooses to speak the truth as they see it. Now we have protestors who show up at rallies being physically attacked while MAGA cult member schant, USA! Trump and his family members send threatening letters to those who write and post their thoughts about the state of our nation. He sues networks and makes life uneasy for anyone brave enough to note the problems with how he is handling the government. Still, there are incredibly courageous souls who speak their minds daily even as the danger of what they are doing grows.
In the long ago the colonists in what would eventually become the United States of America voiced their concerns with the king who single-handedly ruled them from across the ocean. They openly stated their needs only to be ignored and in some cases even punished for daring to challenge the monarchy. The revolution that followed would stun the world. The courage of those who joined the movement resulted in an imperfect nation striving for freedoms that the world had rarely before seen. Freedom became the holy grail and foundation of how we hoped to be even as it was understood that pointing out flaws in our way of life would be part of our duty as citizens.
We are not automatons who will cheer for violence when someone disagrees with our thinking. We are a vast assemblage of many differing ideas about how to live together peacefully. Some may want to scorn diversity or even suggest that we silence those who are different but that kind of thinking is anathema to what our founders hoped to achieve. There is no one perfect set of beliefs that we should all be bound to follow. Our true strength lies in the very diversity that so many fear. Our greatness becomes apparent when we strive to create a way of life that allows everyone to excel, not just those with a certain point of view.
This is why I write. This is why I sometimes seem to rant. My thoughts turn into words and my words are meant to bring us together, not apart. You be you and and I will be me. This is the United States that I hope to see.
