I just gave the chickens some cherries and that is about as productive as I've been today. I worked in the garden and yard for maybe an hour or an hour and a half and we finally got the garden cleared and ready for the fall plantings and oh yes, I did clean out the hen house and put the poopy straw on a part of the garden we'd just cleared and I picked up fallen branches and limbs and I did a laundry and hung it out and made the bed and washed the breakfast dishes but that's all.
That is all.
That is nothing.
And I laid on the couch and I read an article about Angelina Jolie and her new movie which she wrote and directed and looked at the pictures of her there.
Celebrities. Ah. I pick my favorites with an eye to something I can't even describe. I don't give a damn about Lady Gaga and I don't know why but show me a picture of Angelina with one of her children and I melt and think about goddesses and I understand why mankind invented religion- obviously there is a god or gods who have favorites.
So I laid there on the couch and I read that article and I have read all the comments on my blog post from this morning and I am surprised, yet again, not to find one that was hateful. I don't understand this. I guess that the haters haven't found me and if I can slip under that radar forever that will be fine although I am a big enough girl to take what comes my way.
Or so I think.
But what I also think is that many of us feel the same way but are scared to say it. And also, I think that despite my very non-religious slant on things, even people of deep faith who come here know that my heart is good and that I am at least truthful in my beliefs and as they are too, we have that in common.
And I love that- that I can say what I think and even if others disagree with me, they respect my right to say it as I can respect their right to say what they think. Isn't THAT what being an "American" is all about? What I cannot respect are those who parrot what some puppet master is piping into their heads via some megalomaniac, whether he or she be a politician, a radio personality or a preacher. People who never once stop and ask themselves, "Is this true? Does it make any sense at all?" People who would rather be roused to righteous fury than to have to examine their own motives.
Ah. We humans. We are sheep, so easily led. And if we disagree with the herd then we know we shall be viewed as "the other" and "the other" is shunned, cut off, abandoned, left behind.
Left behind. Oh yes. No wonder those damn books are so popular. Do any of us want to be left behind?
Well. I do.
This is not what I sat down to write. I don't even know what that might have been. Giving cherries to the chickens. Taking in laundry. I have more chigger bites than any living human being on this planet. You know, stuff.
But I think what I really want to say is that I am so fucking grateful for each and every reader I have. Even writing that makes me blush. Angelina said in that VF article that she feels more vulnerable than she has ever felt in her life by the movie she has just directed which she wrote herself and I can just see her, as I see all of us, finding the time somehow (although yes, she has nannies, she has ROOMS of her own, she has...well, everything including the preferential treatment of the gods, it would seem) and then finding the courage to show her words to someone, to humble herself that way, the way all of us do here in our blog posts. To risk sounding a fool or stupid or unpatriotic or politically incorrect or...oh, whatever it is we fear in putting our words out there for anyone to read. Including our families and those we love the most.
Thank you. All of you who read what I said today (and any other day for that matter) and left a comment that was positive or sweet or thoughtful or all of the above and yes, to you who may have read it and thought, bullshit, and who did not bother to relate that to me although if you did, it would be okay. I promise.
I made my man and myself pancakes. I gave the chickens some cherries. I collected four beautiful eggs. I cleaned the poopy nests. I took in the laundry. I laid on the couch and I read an article about a woman whose existence really doesn't mean a thing in my world but who, for some reason, I believe when she says she loves her children as I love mine and as you love yours and whom I believe was as vulnerable as I am when she showed words she had written herself out of her own soul.
I did not need drama and I did not need crisis and I did not yearn for anything I do not have. I have everything I need and that includes you. I hope you understand how truthfully I mean that.
Thank-you and love...Mary