Living in the Now… For Now

Here’s one of my dirty little secrets – I’ve always found it hard to live in the present.

You can imagine the challenge this presents during a global pandemic.

Who’s gonna tell him?

Certainly there are advantages to not dwelling in reality these days.   But it’s more complicated than that.  When you’re usually thinking about what will happen or what could happen you’re never fully experiencing what is happening.

Yeah, well that’s the idea.  You pretend it’s healthy to eat a pint of ice cream and/or a bag of cookies a day because to not do so will cause you to scream ‘WEAR A F-CKIN’ MASK’ at every person on your street who isn’t doing so and thus avoid your arrest by police or Homeland Security (Note: HAHAHA, they’re really Black Ops Forces!), whichever comes first.

#realtalk

Okay, point taken.

However hear me out.  There’s a lot happening right now, TOO MUCH.  But the good news is WE actually get to decide what to focus on.

It recently occurred to me there is a power in this, especially in these extreme days of social distancing/isolation/quarantine/near suicide.  See, even in that instance I get to decide what to call it.

My daily routine

I mean, I could’ve chosen the phrase, my personal alone time to do what I want without anyone interfering or telling me what to do.

Yeah, I could’ve chosen that and tomorrow I just might.  But not today.  Tomorrow, it’ll all look rosier and tomorrow I can CHOOSE to have a happier day!

See, the glass is either half full or half empty.  We figure out for ourselves how to look at it.

What glass?

Am I being snide about these choices, making fun of this new age-y approach or quite sincere and/or spiritual?  Well, it’s up to you to decide how to take in this message and what YOU will TAKE AWAY from it.

See what I mean???  Once again?

This actually all occurred to me after I received a wonderful, thoughtful and ultimately quite mindful gift from a dear friend and colleague via Amazon.

No, it wasn’t cookies or ice cream.  Though that’s probably a good thing because how do you effectively scrub those down with Clorox wipes?

Rather, it was this:

EVERYDAY PEACE CARDS – 108 Mindfulness Meditations by Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh.

Namaste

TNH is a peace activist, poet and global spiritual leader who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1967 by Dr. Martin Luther King and his teachings have been around for decades.  Here, you can look him up.

But these, his 108 everyday peace cards, all printed on sturdy, shiny paper stock, do quite well summing up his philosophies.  In fact, his instructions are to pick a card each day, think about it, and then display it for yourself in his enclosed small, white paper standee on your desk and/or nightstand so you can refer to it anytime you want on that given day.

Or not.

Again, me

Remember, you have the option.  You can decide to re-gift it or even trash it.  I mean, how relevant is this hippy dippy stuff in neo-fascist fascist 2020 America, anyway?

Yes, you might feel that way one day.  And on another, maybe the very next, one of those cards might strike you being as incredibly profound and relevant as each one of Carole King’s 12 songs on Tapestry was (Note: And continues to be) to me the first day I heard it in 1971.

(Note:  For those under 30, simply substitute for Tapestry Taylor Swift’s just dropped folk collection, Folklore, and you’ll get what I mean).

Legends

Again, you decide on whether I’m being serious or snide about this.  Consider what you want to focus on and how it will best serve your life in this given moment YOU’RE living through.

That is the real beauty of these cards and, to me, that was the true meaning of this present.

So far it’s told me things like:

— Every twenty-four hour day is a tremendous gift to us.  So we all should learn to live in a way that makes joy and happiness possible.

— If there are negative things around you, you can always find something that is healthy, refreshing, and healing, and with your mindfulness you can recognize its presence in your life….If you are facing a sunset, a marvelous spectacle, give yourself a chance to be in touch with it.  Give yourself five minutes… 

Would the 10 seconds between episodes on Netflix count? #askingforafriend

— Real silence is the cessation of talking – of both the mouth and of the mind…This is not the kind of silence that oppresses us.  It is a very elegant kind of silence…It is the silence that heals and nourishes us. 

— I believe that in America there are many people who are awakened to the fact that violence cannot remove violence.  Those people must come together and voice their concern strongly, and offer their collective wisdom to the nation.

 A joke or a map or a little of both?  Or still, none of the above?

So many possibilities. Daily.  And decisions.

Taylor Swift – “August” 

Oh Mary

The fastest selling book in Simon and Schuster’s almost 100 year history debuted this week and it was written by — Mary L. Trump, Ph.D.

It is entitled Too Much And Never Enough, How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man and in a very brisk 225 pages it gives us the unvarnished details of what it’s like to grow up in the extremely dysfunctional and just plain mean Trump family.

We ready

It also sheds light on why she believes our current president is a mentally ill sociopath with an inability to care about anyone but himself.  The book contains an enormous amount of stories about the endless string of Donald lies, Donald incompetence, Donald bullying and, well, pretty much every other type of anti-social behavior any Donald could display short of murder, from the time he was very young up through the present day.

Ms. Trump, 55, is the niece of our current POTUS, Donald J. Trump, and a clinical psychologist who spent quite a lot of time around Donald, his siblings and his parents (Note: Her grandparents) growing up.  So she knows whereof she speaks.

She is also a lesbian.

Gasp!

Well, to be fair, in the late nineties she was married to a woman for an extended period of time, they had a child together, later divorced and she now raises and lives with their teenage daughter.

So at the very least she is a member of the LGBTQ community.

This in no way is an outing of Ms. Trump, who rightly neither hides her sexuality nor dwells on it in her best seller.

But in watching and reading the myriad of coverage about her life and the book roll out, it’s impossible not to notice that the one person in the extended Trump inner family clan strong enough to make a full and healthy break away from all that immorality and, umm, financial dysfunction – and live to come clean about it to the world – is gay.

Perhaps made even more impactful while being interviewed by Rachel

We gay people certainly have as many faults as anyone but the one thing we do know how to do is open a closet door and let the truth come out.

Our very lives are an embodiment of the old adage the truth will set you free because for the vast majority of us it has.

For those of us of a certain age (Note: Ms. Trump is younger than me but still of my generation), and still, for some, of any age, this has not always been easy.  But once we realize it’s not the end of the world but the beginning of a brighter new one, we’re far less likely to be the keeper of anyone’s dirty little secrets, especially when they cross us.

Run Tippy, Run

In short, the Trumps were f-ckng with the wrong person when Mary finally found out after many, many decades, that Donald and his siblings had financially f-cked her and her brother over to the tune of many tens of millions of dollars.

(Note: Buy the book and google her in the NY Times and you can read endless articles about how the family undervalued the size of her grandfather’s estate and threatened to withhold health insurance from her brother’s very sick baby until she and her brother capitulated for a pittance of their inheritance).

Still, this does not appear to be the primary motivator for why Ms. Trump wrote her book, which sold ALMOST 1,000,000 copies in its FIRST DAY.  Rather, it was Donald playing out the same type of lies he had perpetrated upon her and other family members to enrich himself from his father’s estate on the entire country that tipped her hand.

Just a litttttttle bit late, Mary

Watching him lie and deny the plan to put immigrant children in cages or expound on the virtues of KKK members instead of defending the Jews and people of color they wanted to exterminate, was an all too familiar playbook.

In the Trump family, you did what you were told because to not do so would cost you your standing in the inner circle.  To maintain the power, the protection and the position – even if all those brought you were scraps – you kept your mouth shut (nee lied) or risked being thrown out and DESTROYED.

That is what Donald did through the years to all his rivals and perceived enemies (nee EVERYONE), especially Mary’s alcoholic father, Freddy, who died broken and penniless at the hands of the family and Donald at the age of 42.

Again, all of this is recounted in very readable stories throughout the book in ways that are surprisingly even-handed and, even a bit sympathetic, towards Donald.  It’s what gives Too Much and Never Enough its power, and its undeniable ring of truth.

Plus it’s mega ratings

Still, while most readers will no doubt linger on all things Donald, and how his equally sociopathic father Fred, Sr. preyed on each member of their clan and then the outside world to their maximum personal benefits, it is the moment that Mary Trump finally owns her power to us as an LGBTQ woman that most stood out to me.

All through her life, Ms. Trump watched as her father Freddy was shamed into believing he was a failure by the only family that she or he knew, one that they were led to believe they were beholden to (Note: Because they indeed, were; see the above DESTROYED) for personal survival.  Yet many years after Freddy died, Mary still remained close to her grandfather, Fred, Sr., and her grandmother, who she called Gam.

It is with this history she recalls the last two weeks of her grandfather’s life in June, 1999, and how some of the family (Note: Though not Donald) gathered around the dying Fred, Sr.’s hospital bed.

More tea cometh

Her grandmother, Gam, sat in a chair, an aunt held his hand, while another aunt stood to the side with Mary, bemoaning the fact that she and her husband (Fred Sr.’s youngest son / Donald’s youngest brother) would have to postpone their London trip with Prince Charles because of Fred’s likely passing.

He invited us to one of his polo matches.  I can’t believe we had to cancel, her aunt noted in an exasperated and too loud voice that others would likely hear yet, in true Trump fashion, not react to one way or the other.  At which time Mary reveals the following to us:

I could have topped that story.  In a week I was supposed to be getting married on a beach in Maui.  Nobody in the family knew; they’d always been spectacularly uninterested in my personal life (when necessary, I asked a guy friend to accompany me to any family occasion that required a plus one) and never asked about my boyfriends or relationships.

A couple of years earlier, Gam and I had been talking about Princess Diana’s funeral, and when she had said with some vehemence, ‘It’s a disgrace they’re letting that little faggot Elton John sing at the service,’ I’d realized it was better that she didn’t know I was living with and engaged to a woman.

Seeing how serious my grandfather’s condition was, I had a terrible feeling that when I got home, I’d have to break the news to my fiancée that, after months of planning and overcoming logistical nightmares, our mostly secret wedding would have to be postponed.

As it turned out the wedding was postponed and Fred, Sr. died several weeks later.

Sums it up

The entire Trump family attended the funeral, including Mary, yet Mary was the only one to escort Gam, her grandmother, home and sit with her for several hours more in the house she had shared with her husband for more than 30 years so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

Any number of LGBTQ people from dysfunctional families will read the above passage and recognize a familiar scene. The single young thirty something with no discernible life taking care of the elderly relative the straight, married siblings don’t quite want to be bothered with or can’t be because they have a family.

But equally familiar to some will be the scene some 30 pages later when her Gam also turns on Mary once Mary and her brother realize they are not receiving their own father’s share of his inheritance from Fred, Sr.

Will we be shocked by any of this?

Apparently it was Donald’s edict that unless Mary and her brother disavowed their claims to their share and let Donald and the remaining siblings have the many more millions, her brother’s permanently disabled baby, would lose his Trump family health insurance, which he was guaranteed to in perpetuity and, in fact, needed in order to be able to survive with round the clock care.

Now not quite sure of what to do, Mary gets a call from Gam who not only tersely tell her off amid Mary’s protestation, but to pound her point home, admonishes her with these choice words: Do you know what your father was worth when he died?  A whole lot of nothing.

 Not knowing what to say, Mary pauses.  At which point there is a click. Gam had hung up on her. In fact, Gam never spoke with her again.

It took awhile but after all this time Mary Trump is finally talking back to the entire Trump clan, most especially about their leader, and ours, Uncle Donald.  Like many in her community, it’s taken almost a full lifetime for her to embrace her voice and the entire truth about who she is and where she came from full throttle.

Now that she has it would behoove us, ALL OF US, to listen.

Sly and the Family Stone – “Family Affair”