This has been a rough summer for me, one of sadness, incomprehension, and uneasiness about what is going on in this country. I blamed myself for a while, thinking my dejection was my own fault for paying attention, but it seems as if this summer really is an historic one, where the hidden agendas suddenly became unhidden. One that shocked me is the move to make socialism and communism thinkable, where for so many years it truly was unthinkable, even though behind the scenes the push was in that direction (the push, specifically, to take over one of the established parties rather than create one of their own). But now the plan is not only thinkable, it’s visible. The lies are more obvious, the propaganda more blatant, and the willingness of too many people to accept the headlines and the chopped video clips too appalling. Whatever the reason — the success of the victim/oppressor ideology taught in schools, the move to make Israel the instigator of all ills, the hatred of one old man, and anything else that might be behind it all — it does seem as if this is a pivotal summer and autumn.
So much, too, of the past is coming out — the truth that I knew but had no proof, such as the whole Covid mess, the insane level of lawfare perpetrated against elected officials, the election fraud — that it makes this summer even more of a pivotal one. Since too many people are holding on to the “truths” that their opinions are based on rather than the facts that could cause an identity crisis, they are exacerbating the rift that already has been created.
I know I’ve been talking about this way too much, but as I’ve mentioned before, writing is how I try to make sense of the unsensible. The plethora of these posts, as well as the all too obvious evidence of my dejection, has probably led people to think that I’ve given up my pursuit of gratitude. But there is no reason one can’t see what is going on and still dress themselves in thankfulness.
Because, despite it all, I am grateful for so many things. I’m grateful that people are fighting the push toward communism. I’m grateful that, despite my sense that it’s dangerous to speak the truth, it’s still a protected right. I’m grateful that we’re allowed to move freely without restrictions, still allowed to think, still allowed to own property.
It’s the last I’m most grateful for — owning my own house. As long as I pay my taxes, so far, there’s no one who can take my home from me. I’m grateful for every minute I spend taking care of the house and yard. I’m grateful for every beautiful thing I’ve brought into my life, whether outbuildings, plants, or friends.
I’m grateful, too, for the many moves of my life that have taken me from big cities to small towns until here I am, almost at the edge of civilization, where there’s a strong sense of community.
Is it necessary to pay attention to the outside world? That is one of the questions these blog posts never seem to clarify for me. I could block out the world quite simply — turn off my computer, turn my eyes to just what is directly in front of me, turn my mind to small issues, such as how to change smoke alarm batteries without getting on a ladder. The really important things of a small life!
And that, I think, is what I am most grateful for — that I have the choice to take a look at the big world beyond my environs and then find solace in my small life.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One
