Like sand through the hourglass...

I was out in the shop pouring the sand out of my weight bags and lining them with plastic bags, even though the nylon they are made of seems to be coated inside. Each one weighs 25 pounds and I guess I am committed to going to Market Saturday, because now that I spent two hours making a mess of the floor of my shop, I am going to take those bags down to the Park Blocks and strap them to my pop-up.

A rainy day when I won the haiku contest and the duct tape!

Whenever I do some task that takes a lot of focus but no smarts really, my lovely mind starts to build metaphors and write blog posts...and this one was rife. I'm doing this because of water. They are raving on the TV about all the water that is coming our way, with wind, and you know, I have plans on Saturday. I could stay home, but I like what I do and Saturday is the best day in the week for feeling powerful. I get to stand there with the things I made out of nothing but my imagination and skills, and trade them for other people's money so that I can buy my heat and food and all the necessary consumables of modern life. That direct relationship feels great and lots of people have smiles on their faces and walk away happier than they were. It's one of the sweetest parts of life to make someone's life better.

Even if it is a small thing, a hat that will keep the rain off their glasses on the bike trail or a bag so they won't drop their slippery bag of grapes. I'm out there today putting slippery sand into slippery plastic bags and thinking about how I won't have an extra fifteen pounds of water on the way home from my wet Saturday, making up stories and thinking about power.

And I realize all of a sudden that I am giddy, absolutely delighted, with what I see right now as the Fucking Death of the Fucking Patriarchy!  I'm sorry if you feel offense at my delight or my words, but you can choose amusement instead as I am choosing amusement with the utterly ridiculous throes of the taking down of the ultimate symbol of the abuse of power. The whole world is watching with disgust, horror, and like me, delight, as that orange person learns the hard lesson that despite what he says, no one likes him. He can't even get a hug or kiss without having to use his power to take them from people unwilling to give.

Yes, this is not about sex and it is not about gender, and if you never got this before, get it now. This is about power. And remember what we learned: there are three kinds of power. There is power from within, that which we have carefully cultivated for so many decades and taught with the word "empowerment." We have done our jobs, parents and teachers. We now have lots of people who feel power from within. They are sure of it. Thank you to our young people who are so brave and fearless! You are using your gifts well.

And then there is power with. You know that one, when you stand in a line where people call out the person who cut in, or even all the time now on Facebook when people like and share, read and discuss, and we all get on the same page with the concepts and events that are changing the dynamics. We know what this feels like so well! Thank you to our elders and all those who stood together and taught us this with all of the liberation movements, with our heroes like Harriet Tubman, like all of our heroes, like Bernie. What we can do together is so much more powerful than standing alone with all of our internal conviction. We are using this, around the world, so much better these days with this internet thingy. Kids get heard, women tell their stories, people get helped, life gets better. I am so happy with the internet today.

And then, my friends and neighbors, there is power over. That is the tool of the patriarchy that is being dismantled as I write. We saw old Puddinghead Cosby fall from grace, we saw over and over how men who used power to dominate oppressed peoples fell to their disgrace. It's not over, not at all, but the winds did shift and the waters did run over the lands. Trumpy is done. Oh sure, he will dangle and dip and dance and he will always have a few syncophants, but his day is over. And as soon as Hillary takes the oath of office, as soon as she gets into the White House, I hope she looks at her philandering husband and says to him, as she locks her door, I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee. Now maybe you should go and learn to bake cookies if you want to keep busy for the next eight years.

I know, she will use power and we all will still use power over. It is in our DNA to dominate and it will still play out in so many ways, but everyone knows now that rape culture is power culture. He is such a wonderful symbol and this campaign has been such a terrific illustration of all the ways that it is a bankrupt way to be and we the people do not accept it. Even my 90-year old mother is being a rebel in her old folks hotel and thanks to the media we all are watching the squirming and apologizing of the people who still cling to the past. The people have moved on. We are looking within and talking with each other and we will work together until the vestiges of the abuse of power are put on plaques and become the historical past and not the present. I'm giddy about this today.

Of course it is going to rain on me and this parade and I know I will not be able to hold onto this feeling and I might go back to the disgust and horror but I don't think I'm going back to fear. People are smart, more than ignorant, and just like nature is going to humble us a little for the next couple of weeks, the people are going to humble the unworthy and take away their power. I know this.

So later for the ways we are still going to try to humiliate Hillary when she has worked so hard in the halls of power to do better. Later for the work we will have to do to stand with women in all areas of our lives as the power-hungry thrash their last. Later for the complicated self-examinations that we will have to do to eradicate the ways we capitulate and fail to protect the powerless and don't follow our gut feelings. Later for the fine points.

Today we celebrate locked doors and careful consent. We pat ourselves on the back for raising good boys who get this stuff. We stand proud of our young and old women who don't put up with unwanted hugs and unremarked insults. We stand proud for all the new opportunities we will get to use our wit and wisdom to make these changes last. Take him down. Take down all the symbols of abuse and all the perpetrators of it. Bring up the real powerful and stop the DAP and all the rest of the things that are unjust. Let's have justice for awhile and see how we like it.

And quit using so much oil, people. If I can bike to the market in the rain with my 75 pounds of sand, you can do without one plastic thing or take one less car trip for a corporate cup of coffee. Come down to the Market and talk to an independent artist or farmer and share the abundance and bounty that we are so fortunate to have right here in the town we love. Walk down in your rain gear.

We're having the Market-wide sale this week. I have thought a lot about this as it does not work for me to take more stuff on a rainy day; I have to take less, at least 75 pounds less. So I don't want to bring a basket of old stuff and sell it for cheap. I don't actually want to sell anything for cheap.

If you know me you might have heard my little rant about people who ask for discounts. This is a good example of a subtle power-over relationship that gets my gut feelings to simmer. Someone wants me to give up my hard-earned profit, my reward, so that they can use their money to buy something else that is more valuable to them. They spent all their money on organic tomatoes and they want a hat, but for less than the very reasonable prices I have set. Or they are just used to cheaping out, which is something I have certainly done for most of my life and have no defense about...it's easy to use being "thrifty" as an excuse to try to get something for less than it is marked or valued by someone else.

But it is one thing to be given a discount and another thing to ask for it. Mostly my customers do not ask, and sometimes I give it, and happily, because I am happy about the transaction or like them a lot or am in a giving mood. So I do want to participate in the sale in some fashion, without begrudging it, and without allowing someone to dominate me against my will. And we all know what happens on rainy days at the Market: lots of people don't come. Lots of people don't sell and lots don't buy, so for those who do brave the weather, the pickins are slim and you might go home with wet shoes. So I think I will offer a discount. If you read this, and you come and tell me one thing you did to help smash the power, I will give you a dollar off anything you buy. I'll be generous about what that means: maybe you became a parent even though you were scared. Maybe you bought a car with better mileage or passed up the Starbucks for Dave or Colleen's coffee. Maybe you did a big thing you are kind of embarrassed to take credit for. Maybe all you did was read this, knowing that you might have an uncomfortable feeling or two.

And we'll have to have a little conversation about it. It might be kind of intimate or we might have a guffaw. I reserve the right to refuse your dollar off if I have something I can't settle with you about our power dynamics. Maybe we'll have time to settle it. We all know that one of the good things about the rainy Markets is that there is so much more time. We'll see. And for every dollar that I give off one of my products in this little campaign for justice and compassion, I will give a dollar to the Kareng Fund. I hope it is my biggest donation ever.

And I hope we have some fun. Because oh dear, that weather forecast is grim. We are all going to have to dip into our power reserves for sure. No guilt if you can't. It's not a judgement to admit where you have to protect yourself from harm. That is part of accessing your power within, to set your boundaries and take care of what you need. I need to go to Market. I need to stand on my spot on the west block and be my strongest self. I want to do it for my community and for myself. I even want to do it for the City and the damn placemaking in downtown and the lovely people who came from NYC and want to get to know us. I want them to know the real us, the creatives and the intrepid and the endlessly delightful. 

So I guess I have sealed my deal. Now when the alarm goes off at 5:30 am on Saturday, I won't be able to second-guess myself. I'm going. See you there.

Back in the 70s on the Butterfly with my little paper things.