A Fool and Her Ways

“Clutter is not just physical stuff. It's old ideas, toxic relationships and bad habits. Clutter is anything that does not support your better self.”
 ~ Eleanor Brown

My mother once told me I was one of those rare people who "marches to the beat of a different drummer", which, at the time, I thought was somewhat romantic.  Now, I realize that being "out of step" with the majority of the human species is probably the cause of my most painful as well as my most joyous experiences.  Today, as I am moving towards the end of this journey, I don't find I have the same amount of stamina and energy I had for the march on a different path.  It's more like a half-hearted shuffle. I just want to hole up somewhere and live out my years studying philosophy, history, and alternative housing.  I want to listen to music, read and write about the people I've known and those I have yet to meet if only in my imagination, without interruption for political worries.  I don't ever want to hear the words, "economics, tax cuts, corporation, or president Trump" again.

I find myself in the middle of a civil war, lost behind enemy lines.  Out of the many members of my family, not including those under the age of sixteen, only three of us lean to the left.  If I add in those friends with whom I communicate on a regular basis, I count twenty-six people who have told me, reluctantly, that they watch Fox news exclusively, believe Trump to be a brilliant businessman, an excellent president and refer to themselves, (his supporters) as "patriots who know the truth" and "have the facts."  Nothing Trump says is a lie.  If he says there is no such thing as global warming, that is the truth and everything else is "fake news" spread by "leftist reporters working for the elite".
I mentioned that Facebook (source of my reunion with friends and family) sold advertising to Russian bots and that there was a possible similar link to Twitter. That information was dismissed as "leftist propaganda, seeking to tie Trump to the Russians when, in reality, he was just trying to develop a relationship with Putin for the good of the country."

While I was disheartened by the rhetoric, I eventually developed a live and let live attitude towards family and friends.  Apparently, that was a one-way sentiment.  I've been told recently that I am considered a "misguided, but well-meaning innocent hoodwinked by a media with nothing better to do than sell stories and bully Trump out of office."

I'm still reeling from the shock.  While I recognize the great boon to the media a Trump presidency has fomented, I am not ready to dismiss every news outlet and every reporter in this country in order to believe that only one has the facts.  I disliked that news organization, and I use the term loosely, for its obvious bias long before Donald Trump was a blip on the presidential radar.  That is a conspiracy beyond all proportion even for someone like me who sees a conspiracy behind every corporate door.

My first inclination was to pack my bags and head for either a convent or a hermitage (do they still have those places?), and hole up until everyone comes to their senses, extraterrestrials land and take charge, the world ends, or Kim Jong Un sends a nuclear warhead to Seattle.  My second inclination was to limp along, as usual, calling one of three relatives when I get a little lonely, who will listen to my point of view mostly because we almost always are in agreement.  I wonder if this is what happened during America's first civil war when the South seceded from the Union and then fought against a UNITED States of America?  Brother against brother, families torn apart, and a nation divided.  How unutterably sad.  How do you go about communicating with people that you love with all your heart who have suddenly become strangers?  And what do you say to them when they tell you they think you are a fool for having the values and principles you hold dear?  I feel absolutely no anger.  Just incredible sadness.
I am going to spend some time pondering and meditating on this dilemma for the sake of my mental equilibrium.  I need a solution that falls somewhere between running away to a monastery, (I don't think they take cranky old ladies who are non-Catholic) and limping along as usual with resentment and sadness eating away at my peace of mind.

I left Twitter some years ago and have managed, mostly, to wean myself away from Facebook.  The thought of reading an ad or rhetoric from Russian bots makes my skin crawl, so I do what I can do.  Leave it to others to sort it out.  I refuse to engage.  As I mentioned earlier, I just don't have the energy to waste.

So, dear family and friends here is my message for you: have a good life, I love you, and I hope you'll look me up if you are ever in my neck of the woods. If not,  I'll see you on the other side.

Now, where did I put that "Handmade Houses" book?  I need to find the chapter on composting toilets.  I have a feeling one is going to be part of my very near future.