‘Tis the Season of Things to Come

In the car and out the garage, oh how the cold does blow!  It stings the toes and bites the nose, and nips the fingers, too.  As I walk, my heeled boots clink against the sidewalk; my double layer car coat crinkles, the hood hides my earmuffs and keeps my scarf in front of my mouth. My hands are in ski gloves and feel bulky and awkward – I can barely hold my tote bag. People scurry by, faces down out of the wind. I feel extraordinarily cozy and cheerful. By the time I have made it the block from my parking space to inside my office building, I am feeling for all the world like a proud, astute survivor of the Antarctic cold.

Ungraceful in my struggle to unwrap myself in the building’s gust of heat, I am secretly and illogically delighted with the reappearance of winter weather during actual winter, especially at Christmas and the New Year holiday.

It brings back awestruck childhood memories of all that white snow to walk in…hills to sleigh down…ice rinks to skate on…and soaked mittens and socks from the snow that slid in during the snow fight with my brothers at our snow fort. All sibling rivalry was forgotten as we peeled the layers off the kitchen floor, ignoring Mom’s shouts of “Don’t track snow on my floors, I just finished scrubbing them!” We raced to the stovepipe furnace in the living room where each claimed a side and took up positions: flat on our backs, knees bent, feet bottoms directly on the furnace. We sighed happily as the red tones of our feet started to fade to pink. We watched the fire through the little window and exaggerated our great aiming skills during the snow fight. Life was good…and warm, this winter of my childhood.

Not so much any more.

Global warming, climate change, destroying the ozone – however you want to describe it, is destroying the environment we living creatures need to breathe, eat and survive.  The planet will continue to exist without us, much like the moon and Mars.  I want the generations after me to live safely and healthy upon this wondrous planet.  I desire they travel to cold places and warm places…visit rain forests and touch snow atop a mountain.  Photograph the beauty of a desert and the prairie or farmland and vineyards.  Hell, they can stay put if need be. I just want them to be able to drink water that doesn’t poison them and eat food that doesn’t give them cancer.  And I want the seasons to be true for each climate.

When there is spring, let there be flowers and green grass.  Where summer beckons, let there be lazy, hot afternoons and cool waters.  Where fall pounces, let there be leaf burning and crisp air and apple cider.  And in the winter…let there be snow and cold and bright days; cozy indoors and a respite from life.

It is time for our world to be in harmony with itself, in balance with its genders and fluid in its compassion. The strife and violence of the patriarchal society has worn out its welcome. The future is female. There is no turning back now for us, and we would not want to. The future is female and our season has come.

In the car and out the garage, oh how the hate does grow! It stings the disabled and bites the nonwhites and nips the atheists too. As I walk, my determination clinks against the sidewalk, my double layer of intention crinkles like electricity. The aura around my head shines my love and opens my mouth to speak my power. My hands are steady and my reach feels long – I can barely contain my strength. People scurry by, faces down out of the wind, but look up with a start at what has passed them by. I feel extraordinarily cozy and cheerful. This time I have made it from where I once was to where I am supposed to be. I am feeling for all the world like a proud, astute survivor of the herculean challenge of facing down hate, lies and misogyny.

Although struggling against odds, I gracefully wrap myself in my gender’s gust of power. I am secretly and fully, delighted with the reappearance of an actual change during this season of hate, especially at Christmas and the New Year holiday. It brings back awestruck childhood memories of all that white light of compassion and empathy to walk in…hills of rage to climb down…ice hearts to thaw and heal..and all the other bright lights that slid in during the fight with the New Republicans at our constitutional halls.

All polite rivalry will be forgotten as we peel the two faces off Congress and ignore their naked shouts of “Don’t steal my pile of money, I just finished robbing it from you!” We females will race to the White House and rid it of its vile stench. We will reclaim the West Wing for humanity and take our positions of backs straight, legs out, hands on hips, eye-to-eye. We will sigh happily as the orange tones of our nation’s gravest mistake start to fade away. We will watch the glow of hope through the Oval Office window travel once again across the nation, and credit our sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, grandparents, and loving friends, for standing by us during this fight. All this, too, shall come to be. Life will be good…warm …and peaceful once again in this upcoming winter of femalehood.

 

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