Wednesday, October 21, 2020

A beautiful morning, another in a series of days with summer-like temperatures here in eastern North Carolina. It’ll be another day during which I try to avoid news about the coming election. We’ve voted; the constant advertising–radio, tv, web, US Mail–just creates anxiety as I, like so many people everywhere, fret over what November 4 will bring. There is little to do in preparation (buy more toilet paper?), and the only productive step seems to be to encourage people to vote. That is a step I take, and will continue to take

Reading the polls? Reading the constant lies? Listening to statements by voters asked about their views? No, these things just make my blood boil, and can only bring on anger and depression. To reframe a slogan from the 80s, “just say no” to the drug of 24-7 news, muck-raking, destabilizing pundits.

Instead, I’m trying to write that song that’s been awaiting me. And that text, where “the moving pageant file warm and breathing through the street” is pitted against “where nothing stands that stood before,” as well as in my discussions with John Dixon re a requiem of sorts, I’ve been thinking about the cheery topic we’ll all face in due time.

I’m working my way through this fascinating series of articles about how different faith practices talk about death. Highly recommended.

And, to bring good cheer to the day, a pic of Jackson, kicking back…

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