faith | Evening Light

Or, more specifically, in it. It was the “joyful noise” that distracted me from what I was doing, which was a less than ideally productive bit of messing about with a painting I already knew had “failed” – so I was working and overworking it, trying to find something in it worth keeping. I did not. The noise down on the beach wafted up at regular intervals. Cheering. Clapping. A crowd of merry-makers. It is, after all, a beach, and it is the end of summer.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My back was aching, anyway. I stood and stretched to take a break and step out onto the balcony to see the source of the noise. A dense gathering of people, on day I might not expect so large a crowd unless for a planned event (like the kite flying event going on further up the beach this weekend). I watch and listen. I can’t make out the words, other than an occasional call for “the next” to come into the water. There the crowd, on the edge of the water. The bay is very shallow and it is low tide (just 12 minutes ago). There is a man separated from the crowd, further out, where the (very) shallow bay reaches waist deep on an average-sized man, which this one appears to be. He raises his arms to the sky, calls to the next person, they come to him in the water – and he dunks them in. The crowd goes wild with cheers, clapping, and calls of “hallelujah!”. Full immersion baptism is still a thing in some Christian denominations. (I can’t say I really “understand”, but understanding is not what religions are about.)

…I rather question doing that sort of thing in the muddy water of Siletz Bay, but it isn’t my religion, and I really just don’t have a horse in that race…

I stand on the balcony watching for a little while. I find myself wondering why the many followers of the god of Abraham, Isaac, and ~~Moses~~ Jacob* don’t all recognize each other on the path? Why are they at odds, ever? The ink on a set of holy documents is barely dry before older sects decry the false gods and heresies of a religion that just seems like more of the same to me, with my outsider’s perspective. Fighting like poorly behaved siblings, and very much in need of a nap. Real community develops around shared ideas (and suspicions), but it is a shame so much damage is done in the world over religion(s).

A September morning at Siletz Bay, and no hint that a sunny afternoon is ahead.

I take a breath of the clean sea air. The afternoon is warm after a chilly, overcast, misty morning. When did that change occur, I find myself wondering. I had been “distracted” from watching the clouds and the changing tide, focused on a small 5″ x 7″ piece of carefully prepared board, on which I had been utterly failing to achieve anything that could actually be called “art’. The colors came out muddy and imprecise, and the lack of precision wasn’t the serendipitous sort I often count on, it was more the failed chaos of the lack of clarity of mind that sometimes comes “as a side” with inspiration (for me). Too many ideas, and I failed to select the focal point of the work with sufficient care. The piece doesn’t know what it wants to be, at all, and our dialogue fails to reach an understanding between thought and execution.

…The warm afternoon sunshine cares nothing about such things. I make a cup of tea and take it out onto the balcony, to listen to the waves as the tide turns…

I briefly consider taking pictures of the baptism ceremony happening on the beach below me, and decide against it. Isn’t part of what’s gone wrong in the world the loss of privacy from too many of our personal moments being photographed by (or for) strangers and unseen cameras? Turning our lived moments into “content” for the broader consumption of others is a little weird, is it not? Were I participating in such a moving personal moment as my baptism into a religion, I would certainly not want to discover later that it was published somewhere, in an article I had no opportunity to see or consider, putting me on display for anyone at any moment. Nope. I would not care for that at all. So… I put my camera down, and sipped my tea instead.

A recent sunrise near home. A moment of lived experience that will never be repeated quite as it was.

We make moments. We make art. These are very human things. Lived experience. You know what “AI” doesn’t have? Any of that. No comprehension. No emotion. No pleasure in a moment of lived experience. No context. No compersion. No joy. No ability to grow wisdom through failure – because there is no understanding. I watch the sun beginning the slow summer journey from afternoon to eventual nightfall. It’ll come when it comes. Watching a sunset on a warm summer afternoon is also a very human experience. However many times you might get an AI to describe a sunset, it has never seen one. You may not like everything about every group of people, but do you really want to abdicate human decision-making about human lives to some thoughtless algorithm that doesn’t understand the consequences of its decisions and can’t comprehend the outcome? That can’t ever understand the emotional and real-world cost of taking human lives? I sip my tea and think my thoughts as I watch the human beings on the beach doing human things. Living their lives.

Gulls sail past on eddies of air currents invisible to me. They watch me sitting on the balcony, expectantly. Will I, perhaps, bring something tasty out onto the balcony and carelessly look away? They are practiced at this. I can see from the spatterings of bird poop on the balcony rail that this is a stopping point for one or more of these birds. (Earlier this morning, I turned and found myself facing a lone pigeon sitting on the rail. Gulls are bigger, but it’s no surprise when they stop on the balcony or on the rail – tourists mean snacks..) I watch the small fishing boats out in the choppy waters at the mouth of the bay. This is a popular spot for fishers.

I sip my tea, and think about love. The moment feels eternal. I’m not in any hurry, and I can’t hear the clock ticking at all. 🙂

*and a quick “thanks!” for my Traveling Partner, who definitely knows more about Christianity than I do!!

It’s time to survive a grim sort of count down. 1460 days to the inauguration of the next president, on January 20, 2029. It seems a long time, I know. It could happen sooner, after a fashion, mortality being what it is, and circumstances being unpredictable; the future is not written. Make no mistake, we’re all in for a rough ride…unless, of course, you’re part of the billionaire class, and also a favorite of the current occupant of the office of President of the United States of America. I’m very much hoping – and clinging to that hope – that this administration does not bring the fall of our democractic republic. That would be…horrifying. Not that we’re aren’t already well on our way to face a few horrors. The wheels are in motion.

(It’ll be easier to get through the next four years if you refrain from doomscrolling news media or social media feeds.)

Have you read On Tyranny? It’s a good read, and you may find either comfort or useful tools therein. I definitely recommend it. Amazon has it, of course. So does Powell’s, and AbeBooks. Stand up for yourself and your family, your community, and people who are clearly at a disadvantage under this administration. Be the best version of the human being you most want to be that you are able to be. Speak truth to power, and don’t allow yourself to be talked out of what you know you’ve seen yourself. Hard times are ahead for that actual truth. Seek ethical fact-checking, and don’t believe the hype. These things do matter. It is unfortunate that so much of our world has become a race to generate revenue by a handful of already sickeningly wealthy hoarders of cash and corrupt seekers of power. It’s pretty grotesque. My personal vote for the two most toxic characteristics of human beings are greed and pettiness.

…1460 days…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The here and now does not have to be eternally infused with all of that toxic bullshit. I’m home sick, which sucks, after a lovely visit with a dear friend, which was quite wonderful. My Traveling Partner and I have a good thing together, which is something I value, enjoy, and cherish with my whole heart. I sit with my gratitude, and let that fortify me for troubled times ahead. The Anxious Adventurer is a good guy, doing his best, learning and growing and working on being the best version of himself he knows how to be – while also figuring out who exactly that actually is. That’s a lot to do. He’s doing pretty well.

(We’re all in this together – and we’re each having our own experience. Each of us sees the world and these trying times through a slightly different lens.)

As a woman, I don’t feel at all “valued” or “defended” by this administration’s immediate attack on people who are not so simply defined as either man or woman, in fact, I’m insulted by the narrow stupidity of it. If “defending women” were any sort of sincere goal, we would have equality (in opportunities, in pay, in healthcare), and consent would be the common language of the land – expected, understood, and honored – and our government would not be filled with rapists (which it most probably is, based on the choices for incoming cabinet members, and the behaviors of many who have held office). The concerns of my Traveling Partner and his son may be somewhat different, focused on the things that seem most important and relevant to their own experiences and perspective. That makes sense.

(I plan to listen with care when people tell me what frightens them most, what fills them with outrage, and what they need to thrive. I can at least make the attempt. I hope we all make that attempt.)

I sip my coffee and let my mind move on. I will hope for the best, and be open to “things being okay” for some values of okay. It doesn’t seem likely that this administration has good intentions (at all), or any will to create a better world for every citizen, resident, and human being (it’s already pretty clearly not the goal) – but I won’t try to undermine the potential for success. Maybe they’ll stumble upon it through failure to understand the consequences of their decision making? Maybe they’ll simply fail at their “evil plan”? (Yes, I do see it that way.) Incompetence and gridlock are as much likely outcomes as any measure of actual success for this administration.

I sigh to myself. Still thinking about this garbage. I let it go again, and think about other things. Mostly art. Also books I’d like to have and to read. I’d thought it might be nice to obtain Andrew Lang’s fairy books, maybe as first editions… now I’m thinking it makes much more sense to have non-fiction volumes that instruct and guide and preserve knowledge of various crafts one might need to survive harder times. The Foxfire books have been on my list a long while… I smile to myself. I like books. I’ve grown much less fond of the internet. Books and conversations with real people – more of those things might save the world. I think about that while I sip my coffee. I think about making a trip down south to visit old friends and have real conversations.

…I’ll get over this sickness, then I’ll begin again…

Baptism by the Sea

1460 Days to Go

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