June 10, 2025

It is not real life…

Awaking early, I couldn’t go back to sleep. An unease hung in the air, which I couldn’t explain. The steady drip, drip, drip of tension has been raining down on us for months. Some go about their days, seemingly oblivious to the erosion of values supposedly held dear by Americans. Others witness this degradation occurring, but cannot process it nor know how to act. Public conversation rarely occurs. People are cautious about their speech and who they are open with. I suspect other homes are as abuzz as ours when the doors are closed, though I do not know what their conversations are. 

I feel the need to prepare myself for the days ahead. Yet I do not know what that means, or how to prepare. I expect things to get worse. Much worse.

My hubby asked me if I was anxious. I had no solid answers for his question. Instead, I told him of my feelings. You know the feeling you get when you are on a steep roller-coaster. The whole time the car is slowly edging to the top, you feel the anticipation or dread building within your whole being. Then, many times, the car stops at the top, leaving you suspended in space hanging above the steep drop. In an instant, you are hurtling down the steep drop at record speeds. You scream. Everyone does. Then the ride levels out and gradually slows to a stop. You get out, laughing, barely able to catch your breath or your balance, and finally recognize that you’ll be okay. Right now, I identify with the stage where the car is slowly edging to the top, to pause, suspended in space before dropping. Just not sure how safe the fall will be, not sure what life will look at the bottom, or if I’ll even stand.

It seems to me that the warning signs have been presented to us for months. With each passing event, the acts become more brazen. I listen to people bemoaning how we may be losing our democracy. This morning, I awoke to news that the National Guard and the Marines are in the streets of Los Angeles. Really? Losing our democracy? It is safer to say that the ship has already sailed. It is gone. People think we can return to something. How? Nothing goes backwards.

 I have no vision of what is forthcoming, or knowledge of what it will be, or how it will materialize. Yet I believe once the burning is complete, something will arise from the ashes. 

I consider we are in for some hard times. Again, I’m uncertain what that means, what it looks like, or how it will affect me and my family. My goal is to continue to focus on individuals, to bring peace and love to those around me. My hubby and I will continue to encourage and support one another. Both of us feel the tension of these days and recognize how important it is to be gentle with one another, to keep seeking things we enjoy, things that bring us peace and contentment.

This won’t happen, but how I would like to awake from this nightmare and declare, “This is not real life,” then sigh and enjoy a sun-filled day.