By Judith Gayle | Political Waves
The beauty of Fall is calling me, even as I try to wrap my mind around political issues that seem to have reached a crescendo of importance. Outside my window the light has taken on that diffused quality that makes stained glass of the leaves, just hinting at a loss of color. The air is no longer heavy with humidity, a slight breeze is caressing today rather than scorching, and the garden plants that survived the weeks of broiling heat and the deluge that followed seem victorious in the way prize fighters appear as they raise a glove in triumph: still standing, but battered and bruised. So, I think, are we all.
From coast to coast, everyone I’ve spoken with this week has started their conversation by telling me how tired they feel, how unmotivated and lethargic. Heck of a time to feel depleted, subscribers might think, having read Eric’s prescient review of what lies ahead; this is more likely a time to strip down to fighting weight, get our ducks in a row, ready ourselves for action and prepare for unknown challenges — or not, depending on how we intuit the impact of the coming escalation of energies and our ability to cope with them.
Still, it’s easy to understand the level of weariness that seems to have gone viral, given the larger question at hand: Where are we now? Have we hit the turning point, finally at the brink of a planetary emergency? Is this an existential crisis? A breakdown or a breakthrough?
Yes, to all of the above. We are solidly into our Pluto/Uranus identity crisis and this time it’s for all the marbles. Last time, in the 60s, we had a similar imperative as holders of the nuclear arsenal while still in denial at how dire the consequence of its use, but we made it through the Cuban Missile Crisis and lived to create even more dangerous technology. Now, all those gizmos and gadgets we’ve relied on for our self-indulgent lifestyle, and still refuse to surrender, are holding a sustainable future hostage.