Recovery

In my home town of Memphis, Tennessee, we watch fires devastate The West, tornadoes wreck The Middle, and hurricanes and floods destroy The Coast. Their 15 minutes of fame vanishes as it evolves into 15 years of pain, suffering, and never-full-recovery.

Trump, his spineless party stalwarts, and his 74,000,000 gaslit supporters are the fire and weather devastation event that will affect the entire continent, and from which we will never fully recover, in 15 years, or likely in 15 lifetimes.

Martin Luther King’s long arc of justice just received a huge kick in the arc, resulting in an aimlessly skewed trajectory which may never find its original path.

I think of visionaries of prior centuries or millennia, who, in the midst of unspeakable pain and injustice, must have thought “surely, there is a better way…” but were denied seeing any of their hopes materialize. At long last, we thought the 20th century was the brew pot of at least a few of these hopes. The ingredients of fairness, awareness, compassion, and direction seemed to find their way into the pot, and a few sparks of ignition from inspired leaders began the cooking. A short couple of decades into the 21st century revealed the cold xenophobia and religious, gender, and race suppression which would douse the spark and ultimately destroy the pot completely. 

I now, in this new millennium, also must maintain hope for a better day. I also must face the realization, that I too, like the ancient hopers, may not see that better day. But hope must survive.

I hope, therefore I am.