Taking some time this morning to examine what it means to be a woman who has an opinion and marched for many things, a/k/a hysterical snowflake.   Meanwhile my son is growing stronger by the day, I am so proud of him and the bonds he shares with his grandparents.  His grandma is in surgery today to get rid of some things that are keeping her from being a healthy, thriving woman, and my candle will burn for her all day.  This morning I changed my Facebook background to a sunset that looks like something Hollywood produced, but no, there it was, just a simple snap on my phone as I meandered on a sandbar.  How could I (we) have been given that holy moment? Who else saw it, and what did they feel?

This morning I am examining how much time I need to give to support the opposition, because I know this will not be a sprint but a marathon.  Social media really beat me down. I hit a wall, and I am only just recently getting my feet under me again.  Proof that balance is necessary in EVERYTHING.  Phone calls, post cards, and marching is easy, when you think about why an immigrant will risk it all to find hope in any other country but their own.  I think about people who refuse to vote or get involved in politics because it’s against their religious beliefs or plays no part in their moral compass.  I’m trying to work around the sadness and frustration that our taxes support their way of life without their kicking in a little something.

This morning I think about the dress I wore for my first holy communion. I looked like a little bride smiling next to Father Jim.  I went to the school my parents chose for me and did what I was told.  It was just what I was supposed to be doing, right?   I remember what I learned in science class, what the earth tells us about the ground we live on and the atmosphere that protects us. It wasn’t until I was older that I began to question the politics of religion, that faith and science struggle to co-exist.  Looking back, if my parents gave me a chance to choose being Catholic over being a woman, I doubt I would have chosen what they wanted.  No wonder we become brides and grooms of the church when we are young, before we can make an informed decision.

This morning I think about the deluge of news from media that gets caught between reporting facts and keeping their subscribers/viewers.  Headlines attract viewers which could attract interest in their advertisers. I invest a lot of energy while reading the news in keeping a centered view of things, and reading articles from left, right, and all the above.  It takes a lot of time, and I am beginning to feel like I need to clamp down on the amount of time I will give the news.

This morning I thought about the angry woman of me. I make room for the anger because it’s how I feel, but I try not to let it dictate how I will treat others and what the rest of my day will be.  The angry woman of me is sad because of the nightmares I had, waking me up crying out “NO!”  She sees women reposting Facebook memes, knowing how easy it is to cut and paste, but where are their own, original thoughts?  The angry woman of me watches Facebook friends complain about how awful their FB page has become, how wonderfully responsible they make themselves seem to be while they overlook the mess they made in their own lives.

This morning, the angry woman needs to take a hot shower and step back from social media for a while.  My phone calls are done for the day. Something good is out there, and I really, really need to get some of that inside of me. And then a friend posts a still from the original “Planet of the Apes,” and I think my day’s agenda has changed.  *sigh*