I have a joke to share with you.  It was going around almost four decades ago with the rise of radical feminism and for some reason it's on my mind lately.  That's probably because I blame the hard times the world is going through on patriarchy.  In fact, I pretty much blame patriarchy for most of the ills that have plagued humanity for the last five thousand years.  I know that's sexist of me, but there are some compelling arguments for my case.  Patriarchy represents the lust for power and domination of the earth and women.  It's power over rather than power from within.  

But I'm not here to re-hash the same old stuff I've been complaining about on this little web of mine for more than a decade now.  Today I'm writing a joke that reminds me of being young, righteously angry, recognising my divinity and embracing the power of sisterhood.  It's not deep, and not even that funny.  But it made me laugh long ago, and remembering it now still puts a little grin on my face.  Which means there is a basic truth in it, despite its sexism.  So here it is...

Q:  What would the world be like if there were no men?

A:  No war and lots of fat, happy women.

That's it.  That's all I wanted to say.  Have a nice day.

- g.p. 

Kamala Karma

A goddess has been elected vice president of the U.S.A.  Kamala Harris triumphed over vile racism and misogyny as she campaigned alongside presidential candidate Joe Biden.  Her bravery and perseverance in the face of extreme asperity is nothing less than heroic.  

Kamala means lotus in Hindi, the language of her Indian-born mother.  The lotus is a sacred flower in Hinduism and Buddhism because it grows and blooms out of muddy, murky waters.             

Kamala Harris is the perfect embodiment of the lotus.  She emerged victorious after The U.S. - and indeed the entire world - endured four years of living in the muddy trenches of Trump's lies, ill will, and ignorance.  And she survived a mud-slinging campaign with grace and dignity, attributes which have been seriously missing in the outgoing president.                                                                    

Kamala represents all women, race and religion notwithstanding.  She is the daughter of a Black father and Asian mother and married to a Jew.  She is Everywoman.  Her perceived privilege of class is the result of being educated - a right which should be available to everyone.                                                                                                                                  

What celestial committee consorted to elect this woman of divine proportions?  The mere facts of her remarkable story are mythic.   She is beautiful, brilliant, accomplished, and compassionate.  Kamala moves me and makes me proud to be a woman.   

For four years the world has been forced to watch a shit show in which Trump played the villain.  Enter our heroine Kamala Harris, dea ex machina and the stuff of Trump's nightmares - an educated woman of colour in a position of power.  Like the fierce Hindu goddess Kali, she is a destroyer of demons.  

The lotus has risen to the top of the mud heap while the world breathes a collective sigh of relief.  A new era is at hand.  It won't be easy for her, but Kamala has proven that's she's got what it takes to surmount whatever challenges come her way.  Her story is a reminder of that pithy maxim - No mud, no lotus.                                

Namaste.                                                                                    - g.p.  

Smilin' Through

If you can't beat 'em - join 'em.  And that's exactly what I've done.  After six months of refusing to wear a designer face mask, I've given up and given in.  I hate wearing them of course - who doesn't?  But if I'm going to have mini-anxiety attacks brought on by shallow breathing because a swath of cloth is pressed against my mouth and nose, while my glasses fog up so that I can't see, I might as well be wearing something that looks better than a piece of ugly tissue hiding half my face.  So I bought a handmade facemask in my favourite colours.     

 Up until now I hadn't purchased a permanent facemask because I hoped it would make me feel as if this shit show we're going through wouldn't last long enough to warrant the expense.  Well, I was wrong.  Boy, was I wrong. 

And if that weren't enough to convert me, I don't like the same, nondescript, sterile appearance of the disposable masks.  When you can't tell who's behind the mask almost all individuality disappears.  Because as oppressive and depressing as these times may be, at least  we're not living in communist China during the Mao regime.                                                                        

Most of all, however, I miss seeing people who return my smiles.  But maybe they are.  Maybe strangers are smiling at me the way I'm smiling at them beneath the mask.  We need good will more than ever now, and  we shouldn't have to hide it.  So that's why I'll keep wearing my mask when I should, and smile and breathe all the while.  So mote it be. 

- g.p.

Live and Learn

old  adjective
1. having lived for a long time; no longer young
2. belonging only or chiefly to the past; former or previous                                                                     


A few of my friends and I were celebrating one of our birthdays.  Gayle, the friend whose birthday we were toasting, has just turned an age that marks another decade. It's one of those birthdays that ends in zero.  That's time for pause for most people, and becomes even more noteworthy the older one gets. 
Aging is not for the faint-hearted.   If turning an age as young as thirty causes someone an existential crisis, they must be living their lives in constant fear, because every sunrise makes them another day older,  although clearly not any wiser.  Hopefully that changes with the passing of time.
Fearing birthdays that end in zero is not one of my problems, I'm glad to say.  Regular readers of this little web of mine know that I mark my age in days, and not just years. Every day is a diaversary.  So for someone like me it makes annual celebrations extra special since they happen only once a year.  And when it's a big-0 birthday, which is the kind of birthday my friend Gayle is having, it's cause for even more merrymaking, because it won't be happening for another ten years.
Though I won't divulge more details, most people would acknowledge that a memorable birthday like Gayle's has officially entered into the "old" category, (Of course, the younger and stupider one is, one is "old" at a relatively young age.  You know, like, thirty-three is, like, so old.) 

Gayle is the oldest of the four of us that got together to eat, drink and be merry, but none of us is young or even middle-aged anymore.  Although we are by no means stooped and doddering, I used the word "old" to describe our group as we sat around and talked about life and the number of birthdays we've accumulated. 
"No, no.  We're not old!" one of my friends exclaimed.  I understood why she responded as she did, because the adjective old applied to human beings has distinctly pejorative connotations.  When I judiciously describe someone as old, including myself, it's usually (but not always, depending on the person) referring to the number of years they've lived, and not their appearance or demeanour.  Check out the first meaning of the adjective old at the beginning of this blurb.  There's nothing disparaging about having lived a long time.  In fact, it can be a good thing, depending on the amount of experience and wisdom one has acquired, and of course, one's physical condition.

Being old is unfortunately equated with loss of vigour and beauty.  Sure, it happens to everyone.  But why not enjoy the slower pace of life and a different kind of beauty which happens with living longer?  The later years of life are sometimes described as the "sunset years."  Though there is an inherent sadness in sunsets that presage the arrival of the dark, I love a splendid sunset.  As the sun sinks lower on the horizon, its colours and those of the surrounding sky become deeper and more vivid.  Old and dying trees are still admired for their gnarled, twisted forms and the striking silhouettes they make.  And the ruins of ancient, crumbling buildings all over the world are highly regarded tourist attractions, admired for their derelict beauty.  Beauty is not just the purview of youth.
And what about the wisdom and experience that come with age?  That's surely one of the best things about growing older; and I do mean growing older.  If you're going to reach old age, it's better to grow rather than decline while you're getting there.
Wisdom is acquired by learning from experience.  Wisdom is earned.  One of the attributes of the Snake as a spirit animal is wisdom, because it continues to grow until the day it dies. (Animals that grow all their lives are called indeterminate growers.)  Another animal that symbolises wisdom is the Tortoise/Turtle, because it's the longest living animal on the planet.  And the reason it lives so long is because it takes it's own sweet time travelling through life.  

But make no mistake, just because someone is old doesn't mean they're wise.  There are a lot of old coots out there who have spent a lifetime honing their ignorant, curmudgeonly ways.  That's certainly not the case with my friend Gayle, however.  At her birthday celebration she proudly declared her intention to honour her very special day and make the most of the coming decade.  Way to go girl!      
With each passing year (and day - happy diaversary everyone!) I appreciate the clever, pithy words of George Bernard Shaw more and more - Youth is wasted on the young.  There's no better time for advancing than in one's advanced years.  Growing old is the surest way to stay forever young.
- g.p.

Something for Everyone

Hey there Pig!

 

Happy 24,000th Diaversary! 

 

 

Enjoy your 24s!

Every day is a diaversary!

 

and for everyone else...

 

Happy Home & Native Land Day!

 

- g.p. 

Serious Silliness

Today I'm 25,052 days old.  That makes this a very special diaversary because 25,052 is a numerical palindrome. 
Okay, so I'm writing about trivial, nonsensical stuff that doesn't mean anything to anyone but me.    But it doesn't mean I don't know or care about the upheaval and chaos that's happening around the world.
Humanity is experiencing a triple threat to living in a healthy, safe and peaceful planet.  We are undergoing 1.) climate catastrophe, 2.) a global pandemic, and 3.) a righteous and necessary rebellion against systemic racial inequality.  The first two factors fomented the perfect conditions for the last. 
The current crisis has been a long time coming.  A lot has to be toppled and destroyed -  and not just statues and monuments commemorating racist history - before we can start clearing up the mess we've made. 
We can't move forward without first dismantling centuries of bigotry and injustice. It will require sacrifice and constant awareness of how we think and behave.  It's a difficult and sometimes dangerous undertaking, and probably will be for a long while to come.  And the world that eventually emerges out of all this will be a sadder but wiser place.  At least I hope so.  But sadder for sure. 
Which brings me back to my palindromic diaversary.  Sure, my obsession with these personal details in my life may seem flaky, but the attention I pay to them isn't flaky at all.  When I focus on the minutiae of my daily life, I am more aware of the day and even the moment I inhabit.  The result is I'm more present and balanced. 
Writing this inconsequential blurb won't change anything out there, but it won't harm anyone, either.  And please know that my gratitude for being able to indulge in frivolous pastimes is tempered with guilt.  For the brief time it's taken me to write this down, I'm fully aware of my white privilege for being able to do so, and in that awareness I find balance and equanimity.  To paraphrase one of my heroes, Mahatma Gandhi, I'm doing my best to be the change I want for the world.
- g.p.
p.s.  The Universe gave me an awesome diaversary gift today.  There were two bunnies hanging around my birdfeeder this morning.  Rabbits are active around dawn and dusk and therefore associated with shadow worlds, which is why they're also known to be guides into the fairy realm.  So at least the Universe takes me seriously.

Time Away with the Fay

There's a columbine growing just outside my door, which happens to be a very fairy-friendly flower.  The Fay like hanging around columbines.  They're a kind of fairy pit-stop.  If you don't believe me, you can google it. 

Anyway - the other day I took a picture of one of the blossoms, and noticed after I'd taken the photo that there was a little dandelion seed on it.  It had escaped my attention while I was taking the picture.  That's because it's a fairy in disguise.  They do that sort of thing.  Fairies can be a tricky lot.
It's nice to know there's still mischief and magic in this world.  It's not all crap out there, even though you wouldn't know it when you check in on the news. 
I'm well aware that writing this piece of fluff about a little bit of fluff doesn't help the grief and pain the whole world is feeling these days.  But this little web of mine isn't called The Magical Musings of Gossamer Penwyche for nothing.  It was never intended to offer solutions to the world's problems.  It's meant as an escape from them - for just a little while. 
Sure, sometimes I address serious issues.  But not today.  Today I'm indulging in some beauty and magic.  It doesn't cause any harm, and it makes me feel better.  And when I feel good, I'm a better person. 
So mote it be.
- g.p.