Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones

Nov28

Pauline Oliveros

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For my dear friend and mentor, the brilliant, generous, wise and kind Pauline Oliveros, who passed peacefully last Thursday.  We are listening Pauline, remembering your instructions, remembering your sounds and presence.  You are with us forever.

 

Lines For Winter

Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself —
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.

~ Mark Strand  ~

 

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Nov27

beast

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I took this picture earlier this fall, when I was still full of optimism and expectation. I watch her in all seasons, changing her aspect, her colors, but always the guardian, overlooking Winchell Mountain in Millerton, NY with her antlers cocked skyward. She is now just bones and branching fascia, but in October, she was flowering, still green and luscious.

Then I was awaiting the election of our first woman president, the great and wonderful Hillary Clinton, and the end of her ugly, deplorable opponent.

I do not feel hopeful now.  I feel angry and watchful –  “on the muscle,” as we say in the horse world, when the horse is spooked and ready to fly or fight.

So let’s fight.  Let’s stand up and show the world what activism and outrage really look like.  Let my gorgeous beast be just one of our protectors, as we come together to protect her, what surrounds her, and each other.

Onward!

 

 

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Nov5

united we stand

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Learning

A piccolo played, then a drum.
Feet began to come – a part of the music.  Here comes a horse,
clippety clop, away.

 My mother said, “Don’t run –
the army is after someone
other than us.  If you stay
you’ll learn our enemy.”

 Then he came, the speaker.  He stood
in the square.  He told us who
to hate.  I watched my mother’s face,
its quiet.  “That’s him,” she said.

 ~ William Stafford ~

 (The Way It Is)

Nov3

get out there!!!

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Today is Day 13 of canvassing in New Hampshire.  It was pouring, I got soaked.  I got cold, I got lost, I kept going.  Then I knocked on the doors of  two apparently sane men who were “undecided.”   I basically lost it.  After saying my piece about doing what I am doing for my daughters and all daughters, and how Hillary has a good heart and a dedicated life of service, and of course she is not perfect, but who is, they were still saying “it’s really tough.”  I had to walk.

In my car, I railed, “What is tough you freaking idiots.” How is this even a question?  What happened to simple decency, respect for others, inclusion, experience and vision?  I had just heard Stephen Colbert interviewed by Terry Gross, where he said that he had not been secretive about his feelings about the “flaming carcass shambling toward us.  Don’t touch it, it’s rabid.”

As I drove back to the office I played Beyonce’s Lemonade album so loud the car shook.  Channeling my nasty woman.

And then I looked at my emails where several people thanked me for what I was doing. Do not thank me.  Get your behinds out there and do the work.  I am not your surrogate, I am not doing this for you.  You need to work too.  I am so very sorry if you don’t think you “can do it.”  Of course you can. Just get up and start. You can knock on a door, you can make a phone call, you can translate your despair and anxiety into action and JUST GET OUT THERE. If you think that this is not worth your discomfort, then you have some deep thinking to do.

I read this from Anne Lamott’s excellent Facebook timeline:  “Jesus would have even loved horrible, mealy-mouth self-obsessed you, as if you were the only person on earth. But He would hope that you would perhaps pull yourself together just the tiniest, tiniest bit–maybe have a little something to eat, and a nap.”

So after I take my nap and have my grande flat white at Starbucks, I am going to GET OUT THERE AGAIN. Because the cost of inaction is far greater than the passing discomfort of falling into the occasional emotional pit.

JOIN ME.  If you don’t know how, then respond to this post and I will connect you.