Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Category Archives: Minnesota
Always Looking for Minnesota
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Wednesday gratefuls: Thomas Friedman. Paul Wellstone. Al Franken. Ilhan Omar. Hubert Humphrey. Walter Mondale. Rene Good. Alex Pretti. All the Minnesota resisters. ICE. Border Patrol. Minneapolis. St. Paul. Lake Superior. Up north. The Boundary Waters. Ely. Duluth. Grand Marais. The Gunflint Trail. Andover.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Resistance
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.
While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another.
Tarot: Two of Stones, Challenge
Many challenges… are born of insecurity and subconscious issues…In the modern material world, where so much emphasis is placed on a show of power or wealth, it is often a perceived position or status that enflames… rather than the reality of a situation. Holding your own ground and defending your position at such times can be achieved by keeping in touch with pure and positive motivations and holding on to personal integrity and sincerity…Remain clear and focused on your objectives and stay firm in your ethical efforts to proceed… Parting the Mist
One brief shining: Dr. Josy led Shadow out on her yellow leash, the cut on her right front leg below the carpal pad too deep to repair at home; Shadow didn’t want to go, she snuggled up between my legs, looking up at me with those pleading eyes, Dad can’t you fix this?
Dog journal: Shadow cut her leg, not sure how. Going to check the Dog run today. A deep cut. Dr. Josy had to take Shadow home with her, to her office. She sedated Shadow and stitched up her leg. Shadow will be home this morning wearing the cone.
The last time a Dog looked up at me with those fix me Dad eyes Vega had just come home from the Bergen Bark Inn after Kate and I returned from Joe and Seoah’s wedding. Vega died that night from bloat.
Shadow’s leaving last night brought that right back to the surface. Many weeks after Vega’s death her plea for help would come in my mind’s eye. I’d push it away because the pain, the pain of not being able to help…
I learned a great life lesson with that memory. One day I decided not to push it away but to bring it back, to relive the anguish in her eyes, to relive the moment when Kate and I went to Sano Clinic and knelt together over her body, both crying, saying goodbye to a Dog with an outsized personality, a companion we loved. After recalling it, reliving the pain, I no longer needed to push away the memory.
Just a moment: Thomas Friedman* and Al Franken are good Jewish boys from St. Louis, Park. Both, like Paul Wellstone, another good Jewish boy, roughly my age.
Wellstone’s 1990 campaign, conducted from the back platform of his famous green school bus surprised Rudy Boschwitz, the two term incumbent senator. Wellstone won.
He drew on the same reservoir of left populist political attitudes that today fuel the non-violent protests against ICE, the Border Patrol, and red tie guy’s cruel policies. A sense of decency, of justice, of belief in the American dream, of belief in equality before the law runs deep among Minnesotans.
Why I wrote on the 16th, after the murder of Rene Good: If any state in the country can stand against this abuse of Federal power, it’s Minnesota.
*”Friedman: I will just say one thing about my fellow Minnesotans, who I’m really proud of for the way they’ve risen up against what is basically a deliberate provocation. Minnesota is a unique place.
I always tell people this story. When I was about 5 years old there was actually a Jewish Mafia in Minneapolis, and my dad grew up with a lot of these guys. They were mostly bootleggers. One day, when I was young, my dad came home and said one of his friends had been sent to jail. When you’re 5 years old and your dad says he knows someone who went to jail, it just blows you away. I said, “Dad, what did he do?”
My dad thought for a second. I was just 5. He said, “Son, he was shopping in a store before it was open.” That’s Minnesota for breaking and entering. It’s that kind of place.
Whenever people ask me where I’m from, I say, “Well, I live in Beirut or Jerusalem or Washington, but I’m from Minnesota.” And you will never understand my column if you don’t understand that. My column is called Foreign Affairs. It used to be, anyway. But it really should be called Always Looking for Minnesota.” Interview in the NYT, 1/27/2025
The Wild Life
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Tuesday gratefuls: Sue Bradshaw. Shadow, bone crusher. Warming. A bit of Snow. Marilyn and Irv. Roxann and Tom. Jessie. Minnesota, leading the way. Non-violent resistance. Just folks saying no. Australia Day yesterday. On this side of the dateline. The Emirates. Saudi Arabia. Desert monarchies. Iran. Israel. Palestinians. Egypt. Jordan. Syria. Lebanon. Iraq. Kuwait.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Circle Route around Lake Superior
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.
While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another.
Tarot: Page of Bows, the Stoat
- Connection to Nature: The Stoat serves as a guide to help you reconnect with the sacredness of the ground beneath your feet
One brief shining: The wild streets where violence and dominance meet love and resistance, a reminder that our animal natures lie not far beneath the veneer of civilization, only waiting the right insult to emerge, leap the whole construct of ego and superego, let that id out to play.
https://www.duluthharborcam.com/p/canal-park-cams.html
Minnesota on my mind: There is a spot on I-35 heading north where your vehicle crests a rise and suddenly, in the interior of the North American continent, lies a huge body of water and two port cities, Duluth in Minnesota and Superior in Wisconsin. From that crest you can see the shipping canal visible if you click on the link above. A shipping canal! On a Lake.
If it’s summer, Lake Superior straddles the horizon, a blue reflection of a northern Sky. In winter the Great Lake might be frozen or might be, as it had been on this cam for several days, a scrim of slate gray with Water Vapor boiling off it.
I never tired of seeing Lake Superior just as I never tire of living in the Rocky Mountains. Different geographical features, yes, but equal in majesty and wonder. Twice I drove all the way around Lake Superior, 1,300 miles. The shoreline itself is 2,726 miles. A big Lake.
We live our Mayfly lives in the presence of miracles. Black Mountain. The Front Range. Lake Superior. You. Your friends. The Atlantic and the Pacific. The Mississippi and the Nile. Africa and Asia. Wild Neighbors like the Mountain Lion of Pacific Heights in San Francisco. Kangaroos and swooping Magpies.
See what you’re looking at.
Soul work: Is easy. Let no one fool you. No clergy, no self-help guru, no psychologist. All you have to do? See what you’re looking at. Hear the world around and within you. Let your hand brush over the coarse bark of a tree. Smell that Wood-burning stove. Or a Stargazer Lily. Taste your morning coffee and, in your mind’s eye trace back to the hand that dug the clay and the one who shaped the mug, the Coffee Tree, the Bean picker, the who dried the beans, who packaged them.
Then. Notice who saw. Who heard. Who smelled. Who touched. Who tasted. Really notice. If it was the One within who saw the miracle revealed by each sense, that’s your soul. If it’s not, repeat until it is. Easy.
Love is the Power.
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Monday gratefuls: Good sleeping. Cold weather. A bit of Snow. Shadow, sleeping. Roxann, recovering. Tom, too. Jessie. Alex Pretti. Rene Good. Minnesota strong. January in Minnesota. Marilyn and Irv. Tara and Eleanor. Paul, shoveler of Snow. Braiding Sweet Grass. Furious Minds. Prostate Cancer. Western medicine.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Minnesota
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.
While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another.
Tarot: #6, The Forest Lovers
The Forest Lovers represent a positive spiritual force of creative emotional energy and a universal desire for harmony. The inhabitants of the Greenwood revere and respect the rites of love as the force that ensures the unfolding cycle of creation and emotional stability. Always bring the light of love with you; allow it to illuminate the darkest corners of your world and support you through whatever you set out to do.
One brief shining: Yogurt, yes, cheese and Egg burrito, yes, protein bar, yes, a tin of Sardines, yes and I’ve hit sixty grams of protein, ah, still finessing my diet, the biggest challenge of my life after Kate’s death, neither great nor bad, if not quite good, nourishment, I know. I know.
Tarot: I’m so glad I drew the Forest Lovers this morning. The Birch Tree wound with green Vines reminds me of Minnesota, especially the Arrowhead where Paper Birch, Aspen, Balsam, Spruce, Jack Pine, and White Pine continue the southern reach of the Boreal Forest, enclosing the many Lakes there and providing habitat for Moose, Wolves, Canadian Lynx, Black Bears, canoers, and other Wilderness loving tourists.
The reminder of Wild Minnesota and the reminder of the power of love to illuminate even the darkest corners of our world encourages me to see our political dark corner from a different vantage.
Non-violence as a strategy assumes power comes from helping others see the oppression, the injustice that can only endure when people of conscience look away, pretend it isn’t there. Non-violence chooses love as a healing force, as a way to make change, to be the difference the protester wants to see in the world.
There is an argument that non-violence cannot work in an authoritarian polity, like say Hitler’s Germany. If the ruling authority does not care about public perception, about individual human lives, then protest can be silenced either though violence or stopping it before it happens.
While it’s true that the Miller/Trump/Noem worldview reads as authoritarian, and that the leadership of ICE and the Border Patrol are outright authoritarians, we’re not Germany in the 1930’s. Not yet.
Why? Because there are still millions who love freedom, liberty, and justice. Sure most would rather ignore the immigrant among us. Many never encounter an immigrant, documented or undocumented.
But the love of our friends and neighbors in Minnesota will not let us look away. They brave the cold and the danger to awaken that ember within, to ignite a Wildfire of love that can burn down the twisted, dark forest of hate. Open your heart and you will become a wildfire of your own.
I will never forget Rene Good and Alex Pretti who gave their last full measure of devotion. I hope you won’t either.
Sad. Yes. Despair. No.
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Sunday gratefuls: Minnesota. Each whistle. Each winter garbed protester. Each person of brown skin living there. Each act of defiance. The wonderful spirit of all those out in sub-zero weather melting ICE. Shadow, who comes inside. Work outs. The haiku writing glass lady of Bernal Hill. Its owls, coyotes, dogs. Counterrevolutionaries. Against radical reactionaries.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: America
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.
While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another.
Tarot: King of Vessels, Heron
The King of Vessels (Heron) encourages you to trust your intuition and move through life with the calm assurance of someone who understands their place in the natural world.
One brief shining: Shadow goes out and comes in, rolls her red Kong ball, eating treats as they fall out, picks up her Barkely bone with the marrow now licked out, grinds it in her strong jaw, grating her teeth, flops over on her back still holding the bone, another Mountain morning well underway while the America we once knew lies broken, a ravaged bone beneath the feet of oh, so sad delusionaries.
Here’s my letter to the editor on an NYT article: Watching America Unravel in Minnesota.
Yes, the American government has revealed its dark, dystopian nature and how this ugly chapter can only worsen. It is unraveling.
But not America. As a 40-year resident of the Twin Cities, I’ve never been more proud of my adopted home state. America has shown up on the streets of Minneapolis, in a thousand acts of protest, in a general strike!
Bend no knee. Blow a whistle. Organize your neighbors. Say no to tyranny. That’s my America. And, my Minnesota.
I wish I had a lighter side to offer this morning, something to whisk away the descending darkness, reveal the ohr that I know lies hidden under the masked, jackbooted thugs, yes, even them. All I’ve got is a faith in the millions and millions of Americans who know in their heart that shooting civilians, killing them has never been acceptable. Who know that the deaths create martyrs for the cause of liberty and justice for all.
I cannot tell you the depth of my sadness. My ongoing grief as this, this tawdry simulacrum of democracy, continues to lay waste to American cities, laws, norms of decent behavior. At how it feels to near my 79th birthday and find my home shaken to its core, divested of harmony, all in service of long discredited ideas: xenophobia, white supremacy, oligarchical greed, and a devastating lust for power.
Yes, sad. Despair, no. My Wild Neighbors continue to thrive. Shadow sleeps after her morning’s play. I have family I love. Friends I love. Artemis has Garlic Cloves ready to send up Scapes in the warmth of Spring. Tara and I will plan our gardens this Tuesday. My birthday present to her. Ruth has begun her training to become a phlebotomist. Gabe feels life beginning to change as he enters the last semester of his senior year. Roxann had a successful procedure. Tom and Jessie supported each other. Alan has a new left knee. Life continues.
Is This a Friendly Place?
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow, chewer of bones. Ruth and phlebotomy. Gabe beginning to grasp leaving home. Rabbi Jamie, grieving his dad. Tom and Jessie. Roxann. Star Trek: Discovery. Joe and Seoah. Afar Hafar. Down Under Melbourne. Up high Shadow Mountain. Minnesota. Its culture.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Science Fiction
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.
While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another.
Tarot: Page of Bows, Stoat
- Spirituality: It represents a free spirit, a prodigy, and the realm of dreams and visions.
- Connection to Nature: The Stoat serves as a guide to help you reconnect with the sacredness of the ground beneath your feet
One brief shining: Waiting outside while a loved one is in a surgical suite, a shiva minyan, a young man looking into the future, a young woman educating herself with joy, people close to me at inflection points, moments when life can feel the wind shear of change, perhaps moments after which the journey alters in a significant way. Bless them all.
First. Minnesota. Land of 10,000 protesters. A general strike! From the yesteryear of the labor movement. Wonderful. Chesed, loving kindness in concrete action. Solidarity. Across racial, class, and sexual preference lines. Our America live now on the streets of my former, yet forever home.
100 clergy arrested at the airport. Those who know justice will roll down like a Spring Mountain Stream. Those who feel the oneness, who pray for peace and acts of compassion. Those who risk themselves to say NO to this Stephen Miller fever dream, this Trumped up version of law enforcement. My peeps.
I could not be more proud of this out of the way state, on nobody’s well traveled path, up north, bordering Canada. Yes. That Canada. Who also stood up to our naked would be autocrat.
Minnesota, the only state in the lower 48 which never lost its Wolves. Landed sister to the great Gitchee Gummi. Where the Boreal Forest sweeps around crystalline Lakes carved out by receding glaciers. Where the Anishinaabe and the Lakota have lived for centuries. A beautiful, proud state with a long history of radical politics, of caring for the other, of owning the past and its failures. Of looking for solutions that include, not divide.
These cruel, cold weeks we are all Minnesotans. Melting ICE. Showing love for our neighbors. Standing tall against injustice.
Second, is the universe a friendly, unfriendly, or neutral place? A question Einstein saw as the most important of all as humanity advanced into an increasingly technological future.
Perhaps since late high school, certainly since my first philosophy class, I’ve been in the neutral camp. I never believed in a god that reached into human lives and changed them. Or, one that changed history. My gods were abstract expressions of human projection. Merciful, demanding, angry, loving, just. As we are.
Once I disabused myself of gods altogether, I saw the universe as awesome, wondrous, and indifferent. How could it be otherwise? An infinite game of pool with one atom striking another, repeat, form something new, repeat, until without a guiding hand, on this Rocky, Watery world evolution took hold. As wondrous and awesome as the creation of the universe, but still random. Mutations, extinctions. until, in a rare geological epoch, a goldilock moment favored a bipedal life form with a big brain. Could have been otherwise, eh?
Well, yes. It could have been. But it wasn’t. This last week I’ve considered all the same data and have come to a different answer to Einstein’s question.
Friendly, I now see. The universe is friendly. How could it be otherwise. Random its working may have been, yet can I deny that those random acts of Star creation, solar furnaces in which the elemental structures of the universe were brought into being, did not seed the Galaxies and Solar Systems with the needed material to create Water, Mountains, Land, life?
And, can I deny that over the 4 billion year history of this single Planet-one of trillions captive to those solar furnaces-the interactions of gravity, erosion, freezing and thawing, lightning strikes, volcanic explosions made it possible for the vagabond continent of Africa to become home to the hominid evolutionary path that led to Homo Sapiens.
Further, can I deny that that evolutionary path led some early humans out of Africa and into what is now Europe, India, China and that further travels of my/our ancestors eventually found what is now the Americas.
Lastly, can I deny that if the long, amazing chain of atoms striking atoms, the kindling of Stars, the subsequent creation of Planets and solar systems, the emergence of life on Earth, and the long, long, long path leading to Mom and Dad, which led to my birth proves the universe to be friendly? I cannot. Neither, however, do I believe that the universe qua universe works as a somehow god, finding our everyday actions a place to intervene.
Yet, we are all part of this marvel, this miracle and in that connectedness find our mutuality, not only with other humans but with the Bear, the Lion, and the Platypus, the Ocean and the Desert, the fertile Land and the frozen poles. And even the most distant Stars and Galaxies.
Minnesota Proud
Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship
Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers on books. Rams v Bears. Cold. A dusting of Snow. Field Guide to the Soul. Shadow, her joy. My joy. Mary’s pics of the Royal Show in Melbourne. (think State Fair) Mark’s conversation with Salman, his student. Joe back home. Ruth and her new car. Morning darkness.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Books
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Daat. The Bridge Between Mind and Heart
“If Chokhmah (Wisdom/Inspiration) is a seed and Binah (Understanding/Analysis) is the soil that develops that seed into a plant, Da’at is the nervous system that carries the vital life force from the brain to the rest of the body. It is the point of transition from “thinking” to “being.””
Tarot: Two of Arrows, Injustice
“The scales of natural justice have been skewed by false judgments, ignorance, or arrogance. Sitting in judgment with unbalanced scales to an untrue premise, however ardently or sincerely, will not prevail. The bow is broken and useless through prejudice and misuse.” Parting the Mist
One brief shining: Martin Luther King would have stood with the protesters, blown a whistle, followed ICE agents, taken videos of their corrupt action; wherever the scales of justice stood unbalanced, weighted on one side by ignorance or arrogance or false judgments, his moral compass led him to the other side of the scale. Minnesota proud.
Never felt so much pride in my home of forty years, Minnesota. Pushing back against corporate and government arrogance runs through the veins of Minnesota’s left, sure, but it also comes naturally to a Scandinavian influenced culture which believes the common good should drive decisions.
It does not surprise me that just folks have their whistles, neighborhood phone trees, and a willingness to stay in the fray. Nor does it surprise me that Tim Walz and Jacob Frey (mayor of Minneapolis) have called out the storm trooper invasion by red tie guy and that weasel, Miller.
When I first moved to Minnesota in 1970, the anti-war movement had a very strong presence. When police came to arrest a student at my seminaryfor draft evasion, a guy I didn’t know very well offered to ride along with him.
Howard Vogel, who became a good friend and would go on to win a landmark environmental lawsuit against Reserve Mining Company, surprised the arresting officers with his humble appearance and his knowledge. My friend came back to the seminary that same day.
I spent fifteen years organizing in Minnesota. It was never difficult to find ordinary citizens who understood why it was not a good idea for Control Data to run the Elliot Park neighborhood. Or, why General Mills didn’t belong in the landlord business in Steven’s Square Park.
The Democratic Farmer Labor party, the DFL, has its roots in radical left politics. A Minnesota third party, the populist and leftist Farmer-Labor party merged with the state’s Democratic party in 1944. Hubert Humphrey. Walter Mondale. Paul Wellstone. Al Franken. Standard bearers.
What a state.
It’s Minnesota
Yule and the waning crescent of the Moon of New Beginnings
Friday gratefuls: Joe. Ruth. Gabe. College. Andover. Tulips. Iris. Anemones. Grape Hyacinth. Daffodils. Wild Roses. Wild Grapes. Borage. Sage. Thyme. Rosemary. Leeks. Garlic. Red Onions. The Firepit. The Woods. All the Dogs. Canning. Drying. Harvesting Honey. A life close to Mother Earth.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Joe
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Wholeness. Shleimut.
“The concept of shleimut extends beyond the individual, applying to relationships (finding a life partner with whom one feels complete) and the community (mending societal cracks to achieve collective creativity and flourishing).”
Tarot: Two of Vessels, Attraction
The Two of Vessels Wildwood Tarot asks us: In your life, what is attracting your attention? Is it worthy of your attention or a distraction?
One brief shining: “Goodnight, Joe,” I said; he returned, in words sweet to my one good ear, “Goodnight, Dad,” and in that familiar family ritual called back a childhood of stories and bedtimes, of meals at Mickey’s Diner, of playing catch in Irvine Park with the giant Oak as backstop, of silly plays and choral evenings, of attending Twins games, driving into St. Paul together.
Fathers and sons. Can go wrong. As it did with my Dad and me. Can be neutral as it is for some. Also can remain positive over all the years from first sight of that wicker basket to 44 years later. Joe was a stable, happy kid who made and kept close friends from elementary school through high school and college and in his work. Sang Yang. Zach White. Aaron Canner. David. Natcho. Jamie. Ken. Many others.
It makes my heart sing to see the man he has become. An excellent husband, a caring boss, a thoughtful person. A Godparent who actually had to step into that role. How he parents Ruth and Gabe, even from afar. A person in your life you can trust.
Just a moment: I know. I feel like I should be saying more about Renee Good. ICE in Minnesota. Still sorting through feelings of dismay, anger, sadness, pride. Dismayed that red tie guy’s brownshirts have descended on my old home ground. Angry that I’m not there to work with protesters, stand against this insult. Sad for Renee, her wife, her kids, her friends.
Yet also proud. I know Minnesota at a heart level. I know Minneapolis streets, parks, neighborhoods, people. I know the government and how it works. I know Renee’s death will not go unanswered by street politics. I know the state will investigate her death, even if the Federal Government tries to paper it over with lies and ignorant propaganda.
Will Ross be brought to account? If it was up to Minnesota’s Attorney General, Keith Ellison, I know he would be. Whether the complicated network of laws and jurisdictions between states and the Federal Government will allow that, I don’t know.
If any state in the country can stand against this abuse of Federal power, it’s Minnesota.
Renee the Good. Is dead.
Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings
Friday gratefuls: Shadow, the awake. Cold night. Snow. Morning darkness. Light-headedness. Mussar. Altitude. Distracted. A bit dizzy. Working my scheduled review of newspapers, websites, podcasts. Doing further research on Pan. On the luparii. Reimagining Superior Wolf. Minnesota. Proud to have lived there forty years. Colorado. Proud to have lived here eleven years.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Minnesota
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Year Kavannah: Creativity. Yetziratiut. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso
Week Kavannah: Patience. Savlanut. “Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tarot: Back at it soon
One brief shining: Rene the Good died at the hands of an ICE firearms trainer after another ICE agent had threatened her by trying to open the door of her Honda Pilot and shouting in her rolled down window, “Get the fuck out of the car.” As she turned her vehicle away to leave, she received a bullet to the head.
Don’t cry for me, Minnesota. The truth is I never left you. How I felt when I saw the familiar setting in Powderhorn Park. That maroon SUV parked diagonally on Portland. The so-out-of-place government provocateurs with masks-masks!-hiding their identities. ICE. A Trump militia spreading fear and chaos in American cities.
In Minneapolis. Wrong place to kill an unarmed woman. Minnesotans. Will. Not. Stand. For. This. The Federal government, Kash Patel’s oh so trustworthy FBI, took over the investigation. Minnesota’s criminal justice system would have arrested and charged the ICE agent with first degree murder. No wonder the FBI stepped in.
I would rather have local authorities investigating. Especially the state attorney general’s office. Though. Based on video and eye-witness testimony I don’t see any wiggle room. While Renee had disregarded an order, she turned her SUV away from the agents to drive from the scene. That’s clear from the video examinations done by the New York Times. There was nothing in her movements that warranted gun fire.
My heart leapt back into Minnesota on seeing this news. Became one again with the street level politics I knew so well there. Powderhorn Park has an active political community, many leftists, anarchists, co-op folks.
The glaring, searing contrast between masked agents of fear and the community oriented spirit of Powderhorn Park struck me forcefully, enough to make me gasp.
I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. Minnesota and its politics of the common good has been my North Star. Flawed, sure. Full of humans. But there I found the arc of the moral universe bent a little further toward justice than most places I knew. Minnesota shaped me into the man I am now and I like who I am now.
This brutal, senseless killing shows the moral sinkhole that hate and bigotry have created in our national spirit. This is not how Americans are. Is it?
A shining city on the hill. A beacon to other nations. No longer. We will, if we have not already, become a pariah state, only engaged in actions in our perceived self-interest. Not my America.
Shhh
Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings
New Year’s Day gratefuls: Nathan. The Dog run. Beef tenderloin. Broccolini. Seasoned Potatoes. Joe. Murdoch. Seoah. Solid wood cutting boards. Cooking. Shrimp and cocktail sauce. 2026. Morning darkness. 250 years, USA. The Hummingbird. Dandelion. Bread Lounge. Wildflower. The Black Bird. Primo’s. Aspen Perks. Conifer Cafe. Lucille’s. The Cow. Breakfast, the friendship meal.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Shadow pillow
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress
Week Kavannah: Gevurah strength, discipline
Creating Space: “Gevurah is the strength to create space and to hold space… it’s what helps us nurture our passions.” — Renee Fishman
Tarot: Doing a Celtic Cross spread for the New Year
One brief shining: Laid out in ten foot runs the six foot tall chain link fence with a gate will enclose Shadow in a smaller space, one with an igloo Dog house and outdoor heater, making her world more manageable for me, more confining for her, yet necessary if we’re to continue living together. Nathan comes today.
Dog journal: Ruth’s Hannukah present to me. A Shadow pillow. Very sweet.
Been a month full of Shadow related matters. Finding Nathan to build the Dog run. Natalie picking up Shadow for boarding school. Dr. Josy checking her over and prescribing prozac. Shadow learning how to cross thresholds and have a leash put on. Staying connected with Shadow as she learned new behaviors. When she returns this Saturday, she will have been with me exactly eleven months.
Not an easy first year. For either of us.
Just a moment: Proud to live in Colorado and to have lived in Minnesota. Targets of he who shall be named bad man, very bad man. Down, bad man.
That guy stopped funding for an Arkansas River diversion project conceived during JFK’s presidency and about to deliver fresh water to 50,000 Coloradans who have to buy bottled water for drinking and cooking. Funny thing. Everybody’s favorite gun-totin, companion groping female member of the House of Representatives, Lauren Boebert, has pilloried red tie guy over the decision.
Why? For starters, those Coloradans are in her district. Yep, Colorado’s ruby red 4th district. Those same Coloradans? Trump voters most likely. But, the paw of the large animal inhabiting the White House reached down and vetoed Boebert’s legislation.
Trump has targeted Minnesota and Colorado as blue state enemies. “I wish them the worst,” said far right Christianity’s lode star. He’s mean, cruel, vindictive, and petty. Oh, right. And, President. Almost makes me wish for the second coming. Get a righteous judge down here.
He’s gone after Minnesota’s Somali community and the country from which they came. Now he’s suspending support to Minnesota child care. I wish he was a bull in a china shop. We’d be experiencing far less damage.
Wait till he finds out that Phillip Weiser, our attorney general who has sued Trump’s administration over 30 times in the past year, is a favorite to replace current Colorado Governor Jared Polis. Not just those lawsuits, no sirree. Weiser is a Jew. So is Polis. Shhh.