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Sheltering Walls

Bare Trees in Fog

I have been given to understand how small this world is and how it torments itself with countless things it need not torment itself with if people could find within themselves a little more courage, a little more hope, a little more responsibility, a little more mutual understanding and love.

The past week in America people found courage within themselves and with that came a little more hope. Millions marched together to say NO to any King, or any dictator ruling over "we the people". Those who stood together from LA to Boston spoke with one voice, out loud, in Solidarity, the word most often associated with Vaclav Havel, dissident turned President of former Czechoslovakia.*


Photos are everywhere of how the Saturday protests looked from the outside. What it looked like on the inside is what makes the difference. If you were there you know the way the crowd kept growing; the signs kept coming; the flags kept rising higher above the fray. June 14 used to be called "Flag Day" before it became NO KINGS day. They are one in the same. Those early days of this Republic were symbolized by the red, white and blue. When I had a Cape Cod home, I flew a "Betsy Ross" flag by the front door. The thirteen stars in a circle and as many stripes fit the locale where pilgrims who sailed across open waters for months on end first made landfall. (Plymouth was the second place).

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At "First Encounter"Beach*, the long story of White Europeans encountering indigenous peoples who did not look like them, speak like them, believe like them is said to have begun. This four-hundred-year old narrative brings us to where we are in America today.


In their first efforts to escape an intolerant King on their homeland, these men and women arrived uninvited and claimed the moral high ground over others. This attitude led to violence with those who belonged in the first place. We know how this played out for First Peoples. Yet, we still see this attitude toward who belongs in this Replublic and who does not. But, unlike early days, we have become a mix of colors, languages, religions, and personal identities. There is no "one and only one" who can rightfully and righteously speak for what this country, or any country, ought to look like, sound like, dress like, love like. No! We are all in this together. One for all and all for one, except for any ONE person who would be King.








 
 
 
Twenty-one year old American Southern Black Woman, Coco Gauff, French Open Tennis Champion 2025
Twenty-one year old American Southern Black Woman, Coco Gauff, French Open Tennis Champion 2025

This is what America also looks like today to the world. This young woman stood not only for herself, but with hand over heart, represented the United States during the National Amthem played during her championship moment.*


There is a story here that is All-American, in Ms Gauff's own words: ‘Americans who look like me’


She nailed it on the court and in the public eye. She showed us the possibilities too often hidden by racial prejudice that restricts rising to the top. She kept her cool under pressure and demonstrated to a whole generation of women, no matter their color, and especially their color, what success feels like against all odds. She beat the odds!


There have been other role models in sports and politics and business, but as this champion said following the match, It means a lot, and obviously there's a lot going on in our country right now with... like, everything,” Gauff said “But just to be able to be a representation of that and a representation of people that look like me in America who maybe don't feel as supported during this time period.


Words spoken from a platform watched by millions around the world matter. How come this Gen Z woman gets that when those parading around the world on serious business have no idea? Coco Gauff said the truth through a megaphone to the entire world. She IS as American as apple pie!


 
 
 

Updated: Jun 2

When I wrote for a Cape Cod newspaper, each week I filled twenty pages with community news stemming in large part from local officials' meetings, school calendars, police logs, and random unexpected events. The photos were shot with a K-1000 film camera, always there on the front seat of my car. Burning the midnight oil on an Olivetti manual typewritter in a rat-trap building for low wages felt satisfying somehow. The community counted on the small, local rag for information. It was the only way, other than word of mouth, doubling as fact-checkers around every corner. If I got something wrong, I heard about it. Immediately! It seems like a long time ago. Everything has changed except the news which just keeps on coming.


These days I still read the printed word, albeit online. There is too much information and then again not enough. For every headline there are myriad reports on unprecedented events. Granted there is truth to that, facts belie the gravity of what is actually happening on a regular daily, hour-to-hour, minute-to-minute basis. This is a concern. At least to me and maybe to you.


Unprecedented means "never done or known before". If everything that is happening all the time is unprecedented then let's tell it like it is. The news du jour reporters say over and over how the horrors of rule-breaking by rulers has "never been done before" by comparing news stories in (their) recent memory. A headline screaming "unprecedented" is juxtaposed against every egregious political shenanigan pulled off by some other unsavory politician in the past. Most notably, Nixon with his 1972 Watergate scandal and McCarthy with his 1950 communism attacks are often cited. Both were once unprecedented to be sure and have become a current events litmus test.


When words are overused the meaning is reduced to nothing. Each time the press looks backward to frame a story, today's headline is obfuscated. The story is not in the "never done before", but in the shocking facts needing to be told, clearly and deliberately. The fact is there is nothing else with which to compare today's stories because these stand completely and utterly on their own like "9/11" terrorists taking out the iconinc twin towers and the American atomic bombing in Japan. Nothing compares to these. Each was once and for all. Today is once and for all.


I am not a Historian, but for nearly fifty years I have been an avid news follower. There are many who can explain how we got here, and we should understand our stories and more importantly our own part in them. But as far as I can see, what matters most at this moment is not referring back, but looking ahead; not comparing other bad times, but seeing today's reality for what it is: A NEW World Order Taking Shape. That is today's headline, or should be, printed in 30 point bold for all of us to read and heed because this sets aside every other story written to date.




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© 2023 by Marie Laure

​Six Stages of Pilgrimage:

  • The Call:

  • The opening clarion of any spiritual journey. Often in the form of a feeling or some vague yearning, a fundamental human desire: finding meaning in an overscheduled world somehow requires leaving behind our daily obligations. Sameness is the enemy of spirituality.

  • The Separation:

  • Pilgrimage, by its very nature, undoes certainty. It rejects the safe and familiar. It asserts that one is freer when one frees oneself from daily obligations of family, work, and community, but also the obligations of science, reason, and technology.

  • The Journey:

  • The backbone of a sacred journey is the pain and sacrifice of the journey itself.  This personal sacrifice enhances the experience; it also elevates the sense of community one develops along the way.

  • The Contemplation:

  • Some pilgrimages go the direct route, right to the center of the holy of holies, directly to the heart of the matter. Others take a more indirect route, circling around the outside of the sacred place, transforming the physical journey into a spiritual path of contemplation like walking a labyrinth.

  • The Encounter:

  • After all the toil and trouble, after all the sunburn and swelling and blisters, after all the anticipation and expectation comes the approach, the sighting. The encounter is the climax of the journey, the moment when the traveler attempts to slide through a thin veil where humans live in concert with the Creator.

  • The Completion and Return:

  • At the culmination of the journey, the pilgrim returns home only to discover that meaning they sought lies in the familiar of one's own world. "Seeing the place for the first time . . ."

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