A Christmas Message 2021 — finding light in the darkness

How we might find a way through the darkness!

Shorne · 19-12-21 -- A Christmas Message

On Twitter fact-checking Trump’s tweets

Yay! A little bit of sanity amid the world of Trump. 😊

If Trump, like some sort of twisted Pied Piper — is leading people a merry dance with off-the-charts incorrect information, then it’s great that Twitter took it upon themselves to fact check this.

One person opined on social media that this is censorship, that they have editorialised Trump.

They did not ‘editorialise’ Trump. That would involve their opinions. They fact checked him. With a discreet line under his tweet. Naturally he’s furious, because facts are anathema to him. It’s like vampires and sunlight. Or Daleks and stairs.

Heard of Obamagate? Of course you might not have done until very recently, because it’s a made-up thing, that Trump casually tossed towards reporters, accompanied with mystifying hints as to what this might be. Was Obama’s tie not straight one time? Because America has gone from having a dignified and level-headed leader to having the clown from Stephen King’s IT, all garish and seething with animosity, drool dripping from his chin in fevered anticipation of feasting on the gullibility of thousands of Americans.

He’s accidentally stumbled on a gold mine though by unwittingly tapping into conspiracy theory-land, a world where some bloke called Q apparently has top level clearance, and seems to think Trump is ridding the world of a NWO ‘dark cabal.’ But the real genius is in tapping into Christians. Not the normal ones, hell no! The Born Again, speaking in tongues, the rapture-is-a-comin,’ Bible thumping, gun-toting, sorta folk. Praise God! Hallelujah! Can we get an AMEN?! To them, he’s either Jesus incarnate for the Second Coming, or he’s fully ordained by God himself to carry out his task of protecting Israel and America. (Perhaps God lives in his hair and controls him like a puppet.)

His followers hang on to his every word, in a fevered, bonkers sort of way. He’s the ultimate cult leader — move over, L. Ron Hubbard, there’s a new cat in town, who is even more mental than you are. And I have not even touched on how hate groups are on the rise in America again, perhaps in part encouraged by his unpleasant speeches and Twitter tirades.

Trump is to me, a rather desperate figure, underneath the bluster. A bloke suffering from Narcissistic Personality Disorder, with an inability to tell the truth or even recognise it, and a pathological need to remove himself from any responsibility for his own actions (fancy a pint of bleach, anyone?). He’s a caricature of a caricature of a copy of the man he could have been, so desperate for approval ratings he creates a candy-coloured world in which he’s the greatest and bestest at all times.

So yeah. I’m a fan of fact-checking the shit outta Donald Trump.

(It won’t make a lot of difference to the folk who literally believe every word that isn’t dedicated to the orange-haired one must be a lie. Trump could round up all the bunnies of the world and shoot them, or mug little old ladies, or ride a chicken down the street, naked, and even if there was clear video footage his fans would steadfastly shout ‘FAKE NEWS!’)
It’s a puzzle. 😊

A month of Lockdown during the Coronavirus

What a strange month it’s been. It feels like a whole year, in some respects. It’s maybe more like 6 weeks since we went into lockdown. Since the fear gripped us all, coupled with deep uncertainty. Since my dreams turned into a jumbled trainwreck of past/present/future – real folk mingling with characters from films or mini-series. (My beautiful late Mum was having what looked like a fab conversation with Leonard Nimoy’s character from Fringe, just a few nights ago!) I’ve dreamed of Grandparents, parents, old bosses, friends, former places I’ve lived, all mashed together all in one big, tangle of oddness. This happens often! (I’m not a psychologist. But if I had to hazard a guess as to why, it could be simply because our outer landscape has become such a weird place. The familiar, rendered unfamiliar. With only small things to anchor us. Moments of comfort and happiness mixed with fear; someone’s termed it a ‘Coronacoaster’ and I think that sums it up well! The mundane, the fun, the weird, the fear; all mixed up and experienced on a daily basis! Going to the shops has felt like Russian Roulette, at times. And the fear of 'if I’m contagious and could I pass this to anyone else?' It’s a heavy thing, sometimes, this.

But some things do anchor us back into a deep sense of joy. The importance of creativity to help anchor us into some deep well of inspiration, even in difficult times. Catching up with friends, even at a distance! Laughter really is damn good medicine. :-) And fear distorts so damn much, doesn’t it? I’ve seen former spiritual folk slip into the murky sea of conspiracies, up to their neck (don't get me wrong, I don’t believe we can trust our slippery current government all that much, and sometimes the conspiracies can be true! It’s good to keep an open mind – just perhaps right now with all the fear, some folk are losing their minds completely. (Understandable – but a good lesson in keeping grounded where possible, and not doing an Icarus!) :-)

I don’t have any solid answers – I’m on this Coronacoaster and I’m human, too! :-) But I do know that fear shrinks us, and makes our thinking distorted. And love expands us. Love makes us bigger inside, more joyous, and buoyed, even in this storm. I’ve also seen lovely people become consumed by anger and bitterness and I know that’s a way downwards, a dark path that can lead towards decay of the soul. When we hate, we can become what we hate. (Darkness can drag us down and blacken our hearts if we don’t make an effort to swim back up to the surface. Sometimes Darkness can seem like a friend, when you think of the allure of dark rock songs, for example. They can help people adjust to the darkness within. But too much can consume you, and you might not know until it's too late. It's a force to be respected, and not dived into. And if you do take small steps downward, please do mark your path back home with breadcrumbs or stones or tiny remnants of who you usually are, your kindness, your humanity. Songs/animals/people. Things you love unconditionally. Love is the key*. If we hold love in our hearts like a tiny flame, it tends to ignite, inspire, keep us alive, feeling joyous, buoyant, expansive, open. Love kills fear. And of course, it’s not easy if all is falling apart around us. But, even a tiny flame can invite in magic, if you’ll let it**.

Spirituality and meditation are also brilliant. Meditation helps us see beyond limitations of thinking. And spirituality helps us see the magic our ancestors once knew but modern society eroded. It's been a long month. But there are brilliant developments with regards a vaccine, and who knows? Hope always finds a way through, even in the darkest of times. :-) xx

 *Don't get me wrong, occasional swearing is also good for the soul! :-)
**For everything else, there is beer! :-)

Hope in the time of Coronavirus

the View from the Window

The view from the window was beautiful. Glorious sun, lazy bees drunk with nectar, flying from one glorious nectar haven to another in their splendid quest. Birds sung their hearts out, and flowers started blooming in their Spring awakening. You could look but not touch. You could see, but you must never leave your house.

It started with a virus; a simple novel coronavirus, which sprang from the same group of pesky viruses that created the common cold. After it swept the entire global population, people still rebelled. Tried to find ways to return to their old lives. They didn't want to believe it was really happening, so they visited the ice-cream vans in forests, went for walks in fresh air together; walks along the beach listening to the friendly waves lap at the shore and breathe in the salty air. Walking in nature like this made them feel safe, like death wasn't lurking behind them, waiting. Waiting...

As time went by, the powers of the police, grew. Fines grew heavier. New surveillance cameras started popping up, and a mandatory app was downloaded onto people's phones. The app tracked their every move and would question every place they visited. A bot would answer their questions, and if deemed acceptable, all was fine. If not, they had a letter through their door, and a fine would have to be paid. This was not negotiable. Three of these, and their cars were taken away. The app also broadcast their movements to social media, which also was like throwing them to the wolves, since people were turning against each other, so great was their fear.

People with gardens loved to sit outside, it seemed a tiny freedom and act of rebellion in the climate, but that too was being eroded. Jobs and houses were lost. Instead, people were moved into vast camps, where they all had their own hepa-filtered doors to tiny cells; small windows as tiny offerings of the outside world.

For those who still had their homes, they would scan the news each day for offerings of hope. A vaccine remained 12-18 months away. It was always 12-18 months. There had been success with an antiviral drug, but Donald Trump bought the rights to it, and ramped the price up to all but the USA. So other countries continued to suffer, and plough money into research, and hope for an end one day.

As time went by, the fear and anger remained present. Kids were told 'NEVER' to go outside. Outside was death. 'You can look out the windows, but don't go out!' School was held in virtual space. People's muscles often atrophied as they got so little exercise. People would often put blackout blinds on their windows to avoid temptation.

And then the virus disappeared. It went away as quickly as it had appeared one day. The deaths simply stopped. Hospitals gradually returned to normality. Field hospitals, built for this purpose of trying to fight the virus, lay empty. Doctors and nurses were so happy, but were instructed not to speak of it. In case it wasn't completely gone. Days passed. Days turned into months, but the blanket media silence on the disappearance of the virus didn't stop. And people continued to enforce it by angrily shaming and judging anyone who went out. Still, freedoms were curtailed. People didn't ask anymore. They didn't want to know about the bad news and they didn't notice the deaths were no longer reported. The fear was so great that one day, even when the government announced it was safe; no-one believed them. Cases in agoraphobia surged. Myths, persisted. What was real, what wasn't? Fear danced around the peripheries. If people suggested it was safe to go out again and meet up with people, they often disappeared, were found tied to a tree or similar, by angry members of their community. It wasn't uncommon for mobs to jeer outside a house if one of the residents was found to be outside! The fear and anger had grown to such an extent that nothing the government said could convince people anymore. The mantra 'outside is death', was all they would respond with. The institutionalisation was complete -- although never intended, but small conspiracy groups popped up to try to convince people this had been the governments' plans all along -- New World Order and total lockdowns. They tended to disappear, too.

And so, the governments stopped trying to convince people. Laws stayed in place, restricting movement. Gradually, people forgot why. They just had stories of generations past. They had only their empty hearts as companions during the dark nights. Governments simply turned this to their advantage, people continued to live in their vast internment camps which tracked their simplest of movements and even their thoughts. People had VR headsets and computers and lost themselves in virtual worlds, sometimes for weeks. People died, slumped over keyboards. Virtual currency and identity, became everything.

Still, the birds sung, and the bees lazily buzzed. The birds sung their hearts out. They were trying to wake the humans up to the sanctity of nature, of the cycles of things. Tried to say 'hey, it's all OK now, you can come outside! It's safe! Nothing in this physical world is forever!' One day, they hope, the songs will wake at least one human. Because there is *always* hope.

The birds are singing songs of hope, right now. Weaving these into our hearts with sheer love. It's going to be OK again, one day. It really is.  Every day we wake up lost, helpless, scared. Step outside in nature if you can (safely, with social distancing), and they will show you how to have simply faith in something bigger, more mysterious. They'll lead you back to your own soul too, if you'll let them. x