A story for a “holiday” we shouldn’t need…

Trigger alert.

This is me, dear friends, about to say a bunch of things I absolutely wish didn’t need to be said. But, they do.

In the wee small hours of Monday morning, when Grandmother Moon‘s mini-me was enjoying her perch next to the “other” bed, and whispering in my ear, I began to dream a fairy tale of sorts in my head.

Well, maybe not so much a fairy tale as a teaching metaphor in language a learner might have space for in their story-mind.

We may, or may not, get to the actual story-telling bit in a few minutes. For now, the Duh! moment I discovered when I made it to the land of tea and magic chair a couple hours later.

It seems that today – September 28th – has been designated by the Women’s Global Network for Reproductive Rights as an international day of observance.

Originally, the day was created to observe the Law of Free Birth which was passed on September 28, 1871 and intended, by the Brazillian Parliament to provide freedom for children of enslaved people of Brazil.

In 2015, the day’s name was changed to International Safe Abortion Day. In the years since 2015, people in nations like Argentina, Malta, El Salvador, Chile, and Mexico have marched and rallied for abortion rights.

Today, in the USA, Conservative GOP candidates are framing overturning Roe – v – Wade, and even possible limiting of access to contraception, as an issue of faith. “Christian” faith.

More Progressive candidates are insisting that abortion and reproductive health care choices of all kinds are issues of civil and human rights. Of bodily sovereignty.

I am a Grandmother who hopes deeply that neither of my girls are ever facing an abortion decision.

I am also a former surgical nurse who has assisted in abortions for a variety of medical and personal reasons, the deliveries of dead fetuses to heartbroken mothers, and C-sections on terrified teenagers. Trust me when I tell you that none of those people were ready to be where they were. And none of it would have been better if criminal prosecution had been part of those traumas.

I’m tired, now, and sad, and angry so I’m going to take a break and see what tomorrow brings and what my fledgling fairy tale decides. I have told enough of my truth – I hope – to sleep.

And then there was darkness, and dreams. And light. So…

Strange Things About Fish & Politics

Once upon a time, there were two goldfish. Their names were Robby and Walter! Robby was orange with long wavy fins and Walter was black and had big, bulgy eyes.

Robby and Walter lived in a lovely aquarium. They swam – usually in circles – and watching  them was a bit like meditating for me.

Here’s the odd thing about goldfish. They can be many, many different sizes, but they only grow big enough to fit in the place where they live! So, a pet goldfish who lives in a small bowl will stay very small and cramped, while that fish’s cousin, who lives in a big aquarium – or even a koi pond – will grow bigger and more fully what they were created to be!

Here’s another story about a fish, with a much harder name to say… ICHTHYS.

Ichthys is a funny word which has meant different things to different people throughout history. Today, it is commonly used as a symbol for Jesus… like the little silver fish you may have seen on the backs of people’s cars.

If you think of each letter in the word as an initial for a Greek word, it can be understood as meaning Jesus Christ Son of God Savior. It used to be a bit like a secret code and is now often more used as a trademark… like, you know, an apple with a bite out of it. Or FOX.

Some people, trying to control the world like big scary sharks, want to tell the rest of us what to think and what we can choose. Often, these days, those people say that the things they want are the things Jesus wants.

Some of them are just confused. Many, many of the loudest of them are wrong!

What they’re really trying to do is to keep Jesus very small – like a goldfish in a tiny bowl – so that people won’t pay attention to what Jesus really said, which is, basically, that our Divine Parents created and love us all – like all the kinds of fish – and want us to have what we need. Because we all matter in this world.

Now, this story, like so many of its kind, needs a message at the end. A simple sort of message. One that’s easy to share. So here it is:

Beware listening to those who want to trap Jesus in their tiny fishbowl!

ps…instead of asking you to wander around FierceArtWithHeart and buy something empowering, I’m hoping you’ll donate whatever you can manage to candidates and causes, where you are, that support real civil and human rights. It’s going to take a lot of us!