Momentum Being Gathered

For years I have been fascinated by a particular wind feature in the Memorial Garden at our local hospice office. There is something inspired about the way the moving parts cooperate. I only visit on days the offices are closed. Today was one of those welcome days.

As I leaned against the utility case watching, an understanding of the movement dawned on me. Parts would move backwards, then stop and wait, and then turn and move in the other direction. The momentum being gathered by this “seeming” reversal was obvious. The pause was deliberate.

Tears streamed down my face as I got on my bike and rode toward home.

I am not sure if I have shared this poem on the Yellow Brick Road previously or not.

Poem Double Standard

~ Debra Basham 5/30/17

Arundhati Roy, author of the novel, The God of Small Things, is a political activist involved in human rights and environmental causes. This past week our daughter, Stacey, was let go from her job as an administrative assistant to a regional director for Speedway Corporation. She has loved her job, her “team,” and the Speedway corporate culture. In August 2020, Speedway was sold to 7-Eleven Inc. for $21 billion. Stacey was one of over a thousand employees who were let go just this week, and this sort of thing happens every day, a product of the way things have always been.

Arundhati’s words send a shaft of light into my soul:

“Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness – and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe.

The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling – their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability.

Remember this: We be many and they be few. They need us more than we need them.

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”

― Arundhati Roy

Our beloved friend lost her power in a strong thunderstorm on Thursday evening. Friday morning she received a call from the facility where her beloved husband has been in a memory care unit for over five years. He had taken a turn for the worst, and could she come right away. Today is Saturday and her power had not yet come back on. As John began action to get help to take our generator to her home, I sent him a text message, “Does it make sense to wait to see if it does come back on?”

He wrote back, “It’s probably time we get it running.” Before he pulled in our driveway with Larry in the van, I had a message from her saying the power was back on.

The conversation that followed was not isolated. It is woven into the web of patriarchy that has outworn any benefit it might have ever had. As John shared with me that “the guys at coffee” said the refrigerator stuff was critical by this time, I spoke truth. This was just the most recent of his discounting my opinion in favor of the opinion of his male friends. Earlier in the week we confirmed what I had known since 2019: we had a roof leak in the guest bathroom. Before the market crash in 2008, we met with our financial advisor and I expressed worry I had about our investment. I wanted him to move our investments out of the market for a while. The investment broker said, “If fear takes you out of the market, it will keep you out of the market.” He used logic to override what I had no logic to back up. All I had was a feeling.

As I was riding my bike away from that amazing wind feature with its powerful lessons, a song came into my head. Here are the lyrics:

Oh, I wish I were famous
Like Sarah or Ruth
I wish people would listen
When love speaks the truth

I wish knees would bow
And hands would clasp
When we all remember
Who we are at last

I wish I were famous
I don’t think it’ll take long
If someone would pray
Another sing a song
Write a poem
Paint a picture
Let everyone see
I belong to you and you belong to me

Oh, I wish I were famous
I’d give it all away
I’d lay down my weapons
And go out and play
I’d let the sun shine on me
I’d dance in the rain
Oh, if I were famous
I’d end all our pain

Seemingly backward motion might just be momentum being gathered….