Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We went to the zoo yesterday with our two little grandsons and their parents and our younger son and his wife.  The day was sunny and the animals seemed primed to be active and entertain.  The lions roared, the elephants played, the bears wrestled in their pool, and only the hynenas slept through the crowds.  My husband said today it was so wonderful to be among such a diverse group of people, of all colors and languages.  I love that all these families were out with their children, educating them about the various species on our planet.  There was a chimpanzee who sat on a rock near the cage edging, and contemplated all of us.  His look was intelligent and curious.  A mountain lion was similarly positioned right next to the public, but his look was curious about something beyond us, something that resembled prey, I bet.  We, of course,  had to ride the train, waiting almost an hour to get on, and the little fellows soaked up the engine whistle and the tunnel and the waving to people as we chugged by.  They were so exhausted that we had to call it a day and leave, and I'm sure both boys, in their cars, dreamed of bison and condors and giraffes.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I watched the first of the Cate Blanchett movies about Elizabeth I.  We hadn't seen them in ages, and after watching Flora Dobson's masterful performance in the Errol Flynn film "SeaHawk", we wanted to see more.  On Sunday we watched the opera Roberto Devereaux, so we're on an Elizabeth I bender.  The firm holds up marvelously, and the emphasis on symbol and the visual rings valid.  Again, we see the bloody times, when people were beheaded routinely, and Elizabeth's life was at constant risk, because she carried the blood of Henry VIII.  The brilliance is especially dazzling in the scene where her advisor more or less tells her that if she takes away the Virgin Mary and other symbols of the Catholic church, then the people will be bereft unless she herself takes on that powerful role.  From the beginning of history, in pagan times, there was the Virgin who was worshipped, and it's so deep in our DNA that it's an unconscious craving in most people.  When Elizabeth cuts her hair, applies chalky cream to her skin, and adorns herself with pure white pearls, she becomes the older icon.  She had a long, successful reign because she became a deity.  We are often ruled by symbols, especially if we don't recognize them consciously.  I guess we have a hunger for authority in the non-rational part of our minds.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is supposed to be warmer than usual.  I'm a nervous wreck because I'm taking a letter to my bank protesting it's support of private facilities that keep families apart, a la the recent separation of migrant families.  I'm most worried about taking a photo of myself in front of the bank.  I'm not so good with the selfies, in fact, I never take them because the result is so hideous.  I can barely stand to see myself when I do Facetime with the grandkids.  I look so, how shall I say it?  Elderly.  Oh, dear.  Vanity never quits.  So I'm off to be a baby protester in my own way, part of a group of women doing what they can to change and make these enormous entities accountable.  Give them some moral backbone!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just finished reading an article in the New Republic by Rebecca Solnit.  It describes three new books about women's anger, and how the root is often compassion for victims.  We don't want to see women scorned and ridiculed for speaking their truth.  We become upset at the treatment because we've experienced it first hand.  She mentions Shirley Chisholm and how she appeared stoic in public but cried in private for the treatment she received as a presidential candidate.  She was a hero of mine and I voted for her way back when.  She had a fire about her, and if that was anger, it was righteous anger, seeing the corruption of our system of government and the the unfairness to our citizens.  But women are not supposed to express anger, and when we do, we are often punished for it verbally and physically.  Men claim ownership of anger, and it is a very effective weapon.  But it is often a weapon of the patriarchy, suppressing women's voices.  Anger for ourselves has no wholesome component, but anger for others may lead to action that is an act of compassion.  I think that is happening now with women.  We are finally protecting our gender, in a way we felt we could not protect ourselves.  We are speaking up for our daughters and granddaughters.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We saw Donzinetti's "Roberto Devereaux" yesterday, in a great production.  The whole ball of wax is Queen Elizabeth I and the soprano Rabinvesky tears apart the scenery.  Her voice is sublime, and the story so powerful that we've seen multiple versions on screen and television, and are about to see yet another film about her and Mary, Queen of Scots.  But this show focuses on the terror of having your father behead your mother when you are three years old, and seeing many fall in the grab for power.  Her fear is palpable, that if she gives over any control, to a husband perhaps, her own head may be next.  She wants to love and trust, but cannot.  She wants to live most of all, but it comes with a high cost, and at the end of this opera, she finds it too great to bear.  What a bloody world the monarchy in England was.  And even today, to be trapped inside it resembles a prison, with glass walls that expose you to the stings and barbs of the world.  I thought of Princess Diana, not allowed to love, but treated as a brood mare, and relentlessly attacked from all sides.  I even thought of Meghan Markle, now trapped in a snare that perhaps her princely husband cannot protect her from.  Who would wish it?  Not me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we go to the opera.  I'm excited for this one, which I've never seen, and the rave reviews for the soprano.  But no matter how good the production is, there is one thing that will bother me:  the inconsiderate behavior of the audience at the end of the opera.  The attendies rise not to applaud, but to leave.  They block our view of the stage as the singers come out for their bows, and rush en masse to get to their cars or parking spaces or buses or whatever.  They spoil the joy of acknowledging the hard work and splendid results of the opera.  Their needs override politeness or consideration of others, and evidently appreciation is not for them to show, as they "need" to get home or to a bar or restaurant or whatever.  That they disturb the rest of the audience is not their concern.  Our selfish culture is evident everywhere.  The "Me first" attitude is foremost.  Applauding is evidently for suckers.  What's important is getting the EDGE.  Getting ahead of other drivers or walkers.  Miss Manners would be appalled.  I am.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today my husband and I went with our younger daughter and grandson to a harvest festival, tasting apples, pears and grapes, picking out pumpkins in a patch, watching our grandson in the petting area with chickens, a pig, two ducks, bunnies, and two goats.  We had lunch outside and listened to blue grass music, and then wandered over to another area where a woman was teaching two step dancing, and my grandson and I walked up on stage and joined the dance a dozen other couples.  Heel, kick, one two three back, same again, then shuffle forward one two three eight times.  He held my hand and kept up with me, never once turning away.  Clearly he was delighted, and even though he hadn't really been able to do the steps, he remembered the order, and in the car on the way home he kept saying heel, kick, back.  He was so delighted to have danced, and at twenty two months, he was amazing.  What a memory I will have of this day, his bravery, and his passion for music and dancing.  He's a regular Gene Kelly!