Happy Friday, News Viewers, 😎 another rowdy week in our country’s politics. Yes, there were bogus lawsuits, yes there was sedition in the ranks, yes, democracy’s in peril, the economy is in disarray and COVID is beyond our control, this is 2020 so of course, the center is not holding. . . . .or is it?
This week’s happened against the backdrop of history, a history which reminded us we’ve been in the middle of such messes before–the anniversary of Pearl Harbor– we’re in this together— sacrificing for the war effort. . . .and the death of Chuck Yeager which recalled a time when we were experimenting with possibilities and aiming for space.
From chaos, fear and destruction to experimenting, possibilities and moving forward. Maybe that’s how it works, time looping in patterns of chaos to rebalancing to new directions, ideas, boundaries to test.
The quote on the Chuck Yeager memorial cartoon above is from a poem written by another flyer in Yeager’s generation (1922-1941), about the flight that can happen in between those periods of being grounded (because right now, as a country, we’re grounded, in fact we’re sinking down into the ground) I’m looking forward to High Flight……
John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
|Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth|
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air . . .
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
——John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Let’s chat about it; there is no topic and every topic, everything stays within reason; video clips are fine as long as they are short clips. Now…. what’s going on with everyone? Fill us in on wussup in your neck of the woods. . . .