the weight of hope

Have you heard that the weight of a soul is 21 grams? That's equivalent to the weight of five nickles in the palm of your hand.

What do other energies weigh? What is the weight of love?
What is the weight of potential? What is the weight of hope, or more importantly, what is the burden of hopelessness? Not just for the individual, but for the society?

We stand at the precipice of suffering and opportunity. It has been decades since the safety net has been this threadbare as we dive into a recession. One of every 100 black men are warehoused in prison -- locked in the basement -- as our President elect smashes a glass ceiling.

So let this not be the diet of our nation -- the loss of hope, opportunity and our collective souls.

Voting for Obama was a step. A big step. Now we need to stay fully engaged in our democracy and speak loudly for those still without voices. Racism is not over with the election of a black man. And fear and hatred trumps love with the rescinding of gay marriage in California and other anti-gay legislation in Arizona, Florida and Arkansas.

Will Rogers said, "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there."

ecstacy & anguish

It'll take more than Halloween candy to fix what I'm feeling now.

After canvasing and phone banking from 8am-8pm for Obama on Tuesday, I watched the election returns in a room full of African Americans. Overwhelmed with ecstacy, I listened to Obama's acceptance speech feeling proud to be an American, thrilled that the world was watching.

I awoke on Wednesday morning and raced to my computer, anxious to learn the results of Proposition 8. Anti-gay ballot measures in California, Arizona, Florida and Arkansas passed on Tuesday. Ecstacy plummets to anguish in an instant. Now I am trying to hold both feelings at once.

I'm surrounded by people celebrating the hope that Obama's presidency brings while my joy is clouded with despair.

So I've been speaking up. I'm not trying to bring anyone down; I just want my frickin' civil rights too. Halloween is over and I've stripped off my mask. Not even the left-over candy can sweeten how I feel. Mark Twain said that only in the dictionary does success come before work. We've still got lots of work ahead.

counting sheep

I'm reading one of my favorite blogs ( http://www.yogaforcynics.blogspot.com ) and it gets me thinking about the upcoming election. What am I saying? Everything has me thinking about the election. So here's what I'm pondering in this random moment: sheep.

You know how counting sheep is supposed to help you to fall asleep? It's kind of like singing "one hundred bottles of beer on the wall." The repetition eventually leads to a zone where the only option is to surrender. It's the cynic's meditation.

So here's a twist...What if in the simple act of visualizing and counting sheep, we actually merge with their energy? What if we become the sheep? Okay, stay with me because I'm meandering somewhere that has nothing - or something - to do with pulling the proverbial wool over your eyes.

Once we become the sheep, we enter a sort of sleepwalking state (as opposed to a red or blue state), following in lock step with herd. And how easily we are dogged by, herded by, fear. Not the wars, not global warming, not even the financial crisis jars us awake. The most recent 3 day poll indicates that Obama's lead has dropped to 4 percentage points. Need I say more?

What would it take to wake us up before next week's election? To spring us from the slumber of the docile herd, to raise our voices and pull the lever for O-baaaah-ma?

(On the other hand, if we become the bottles of beer on the wall instead of the sheep, it could be a heady experience)

Here's the point: I shamelessly beg you to vote. Count sheep, count bottles, count calories, count whatever you want. Counting is good, especially when it comes to votes. Make yours count.

(I am Barack Obama and I approved this message)

sleeping with dolphins

Have you ever gone through your day, waiting for nightfall so that you could climb into bed and rejoin a dream from the night before?

Tonight's the night.

But first, a word about my days. They suck. I'm full of worry about the upcoming election. Will Diebold rig the voting machines? Will the thousands of new voter registrations purged from the rolls be the difference between an Obama win and loss? Are we driving towards a crash or a bounce and what can I do to influence it?

But last night I had the best dream of my life and I can't wait to get back to it. I was swimming in a current and spied a dolphin nearby. Then another. And another. And another, so close I could reach over and feel its rubbery skin. Soon I was surrounded by dolphins and they were swimming beside me, body to body, practically carrying me along. The feeling of effortless movement and connection is blissful. Something I long for. So until I figure out how to recreate that feeling in my waking hours, I will wait for nightfall and invite dolphins into my dreams.