As promised, color and light during the dark days and the cold waves and storms so many of us are experiencing. I’ll keep the flowers coming until my own are growing again. I’m glad I archived enough. These flowers make me smile; they signify hope and promise. See you in the morning. We didn’t get the worst cold, but it’s cold enough – the high was 20 degrees today. Stay warm and dry.
I was foolish today. I took some late afternoon photos outside and left my gloves inside to work the camera shutter.
Four of those fingers got frostbite during a storm at the first Bedlam Farm, and when I go out in the cold like this, the pain is severe and immediate if those fingers are exposed to bitter cold. It hurt. When will I learn?
I got inside and rubbed my hands briefly before they stopped hurting. This was more of a storm than I expected. I learned my lesson.
I loved being out there, though; the winter pasture is beautiful.
And I had company. Zip, who never follows anybody into the pasture, follows me, even in the driving snow. None of our barn cats have come out in this kind of snow, not to my memory.
He was right by my side, visiting the donkeys and a couple of sheep. This cat is fearless and is not afraid of anything that we have encountered so far. When I went out to clean off the car, he was right alongside me every step of the way. He’s a good friend and a precious addition to the farm. When I came up earlier, he was sitting up in the roost with the chickens as if he were one of them. They didn’t mind.
My favorite landscape photo was different today. It’s still snowing.
Zip walks up to Asher, and they touch noses.
The donkeys are at ease with Zip; they let him walk in the middle of their hay feeder without complaint or protest. He has no fear of them but only walks in the pasture like this with me; he goes out into the marshes when none of the animals are around. This was nice to see. Zip is at home here.
Still life. My Christmas Angel, below, makes me feel warmth and hope.
One of the anemic students who triggered Sue Silverstein’s request for nutritious breakfast snacks for hungry or needy students looked at the big boxes of healthy snacks today and asked Sue: “Why do people who don’t know me want to help me? It’s so kind.”
Sue answered: “Despite what you hear on the news, many people are good. So many thanks to all who have contributed. It’s truly an act of love.”
It is kind; it keeps me hopeful and grateful.
It’s an act of the Army of Good. My father was a social worker. On his grave was this inscription: “No man stands taller than when he stoops to help a child.” I always think of the generosity of the Army Of Good when I think of that.
Sue is right; some good people are just good. You will never see them on the news.
Twenty-three new boxes came today, in addition to the scores of boxes that have already arrived and the generous cash donations Sue has already received.
As requested, the food is perfect, thoughtful, helpful, and full of vitamins and iron.
Thank you for helping these children see the real America many have not seen in recent years.
Thanks for keeping my hope and faith alive. You never fail to help.
I know now that almost everyone carries a great, instinctive, ingrained, and habitual fear inside – fear of money, sickness, death, losing the people we love, change, failure, and being alone. I’ve been afraid of all those things, a part of being human.
In America, as in other countries, we now add our politics to the list of things that frighten us. We no longer take peace and the transfer of power, our promises, compromise, and the welfare of everyone, for granted.
Mr. Trump hovers over us like a giant dark cloud, his followers living in their own dark and angry world. He’s the dybuk who won’t go away or can’t be forgotten.
We are afraid of what he and his followers might do if elected. They are promising revenge for being rejected and punishment for their opponents.
There is not much Joy in the MAGA movement unless you count crushing all opposition into oblivion, as Trump Scholar Ron DeSantis has vowed to do (push people like me right into the river) if elected. I am encouraged by the rejection of such unthinking hatred.
In this sense, I owe a great deal to Donald Trump and his MAGA movement.
He has frightened me and got me to think almost simultaneously. He has awakened my dozing sense of patriotism and realization that freedom always has a price.
I didn’t wish to be like him or his followers. I needed to deal with this fear positively.
In so doing, I’ve managed a hat trick. When I think of Mr. Trump, I can’t help but think of good.
Political leaders ought to inspire and comfort the people who depend on them. That idea and respect for compassion and truth have been discarded.
The politicians of our time compete to see which one can scare us enough to write a check.
Mr. Trump has loomed over us like a giant, angry balloon for years; he has inspired and awakened me. He will be around for a while, and I don’t plan to be angry and aggrieved all that time.
Whatever one might call the MAGA movement, fun isn’t one of the things that comes to mind. I’m grateful that I don’t hate people who disagree with me, but I was also uneasy about being hated in return. I didn’t wish to be angry or frightened or get death messages for years, but I can live with it.
In 2016, Trump scared and angered so many people – myself included – that I launched what came to be called the Army Of Good, a loosely run movement of good people all over the country drawn to the idea that it is better to do good than argue about what good is.
It was not about hating anyone. It was about doing good to feel good.
The group follows an unspoken rule against arguing about politics and doing some good instead. We seek out small acts of great kindness and have helped many people.
We don’t hate, argue, lie, or traffic in hate and conspiracy. We do well with the method of St. Terese, who preached the idea of small acts of great kindness. That is our unofficial motto.
That work has been transformative for me. It spurred me to finally overcome my fear, learn about it, and train my soul to see beyond it.
I’ve suffered from extreme anxiety almost all of my life, but Donald Trump kicked me in the butt and got me to deal with it finally.
Simply put, I have learned and am still learning how to transform fear into love and even happiness. For me, that is a life-changer. And Donald Trump is my inspiration.
He helped me see the alternatives to anger and fear. Pain is inevitable; suffering is a choice.
I am no longer afraid of Mr. Trump and his movement. I won’t let anyone mess up my head that way or take away my hard work to love and be fulfilled.
It’s almost magical, turning fear into love.
Several things helped me learn how to turn fear into something positive – doing good, patience, faith, and hope. Mr. Trump brought me to spirituality and its teachings of hope, love, empathy, and care for others.
The angrier he got, the more good I did. Instead of feeling angry and frightened, I felt good and fulfilled.
The great fear scholar Thich Nhat Hanh (Fear, Essential Wisdom For Getting Through The Storm) wrote in his book on fear that sorrow, anxiety, and depression are like a “kind of garbage.”
He wrote that these bits of garbage are part of real life, and to understand them, I had to work hard to look deeply into my nature to fear less and turn the waste into flowers, something I am successfully learning how to do.
In practicing how to turn fear into something beautiful, I decided not to throw any garbage out or ignore it but to face it and learn from it, not dispose of it or deny it.
Fear, even Donald Trump’s kind of fear, was something I could transform into learning, growing, and changing and learning and living without fear, without despairing of my life.
I decided to pursue a spiritual path, a movement that has been working for centuries to promote peace, kindness, and self-awareness.
It’s not for me to tell others who to follow and what to believe. We are all responsible for what we do. I don’t want to be pulled into the all-encompassing fray.
It’s quite the opposite of political squabbling and hatred. We don’t hurl insults at strangers online; we don’t threaten them with death or smother them in conspiracy. We do good.
It turns out that I am good at doing good, much better than arguing about good or hating people who differ from me and are different from me.
I know now that I don’t need to be afraid of anger, fear, or despair because the transformation into something better and even beautiful is always possible.
I am also mindful of my love for Maria, many at the Mansion, and many brave refugee children fighting for a new life in America. I have many blessings to count and many things to be grateful for. I don’t want to be part of a joyless social or political movement, left or right. I don’t wish to be cruel.
When I feel irritation, anger, or grievance, I recognize the feeling and practice my tools: mantra, meditation, silence, contemplation, deep breathing, and mindfulness. To my surprise, these tools have worked to change my life.
Once uttered, my mantras and my breath, once deepened, can change my feelings.
These formulas are not magic; they require hard work and concentration with body and soul in mind.
And they work when followed faithfully.
They have effectively watered the seeds of happiness and peace of mind in exchange for fear, suffering, and loneliness.
What a great deal for me, my soul. So the specter of the MAGAS is upon us again, like the huns heading for Rome.
My choice is to be unafraid and prepared. That depends on me, not him or anyone else.
I’ve found something that is as calming and grounding for me as meditation and deep breath, two powerful remedies for anxiety and anger. The new thing is bird watching. I sit inside Maria’s studio (with her permission) and point my camera. Sometimes, the birds come. Sometimes, big and bossy blue jays chase them away.
They are used to Maria, but if I move, they bolt. I’m learning to be still.
Sometimes, Zip hides in the chicken roost, scaring the birds off (he doesn’t fool anybody). Sometimes, they wait until the snow stops. But they keep coming, grabbing some food and taking off. I do this for about a half hour, and I love it.
Sometimes, there are no birds. Sometimes, they come in blocks. I missed some more significant, colorful birds, but I’m figuring out when they come. Photography, I am learning, calls for patience, not my strength. They say nature is healthy and good for us. I am finding this is true.
Bird watching is another thing – like cats – that never drew my attention. Now, I can hardly wait. I sit in one of Maria’s chairs in silence and wait. It is both beautiful and calming.
I love watching their agility flying around and their enthusiasm for food.
Junco bird from Canada is waiting his turn.
Zip, hiding out in the hen-roost, watching the birds. So far, he watches them. They have his number and take off when he appears. Zip is everywhere, watching everything.
