Dyssonance

In which the efforts of the past make ready to bear the fruit of the future.

Some may have noticed that over the last several days I have remained silent here, while somewhat less so elsewhere.

I’ve done a great deal of reading, scanned many different sites. I’ve read magazines and newspapers, books and blogs, comments and columns, pundits and politicians. I’ve heard much said in radio sound bites and television edited for public consumption. I’ve heard arguments and argued men, I’ve looked at friend and foe and those neither and I’ve been busy in doing it all of it.

I have rested the last evening. I’ve been up all night and let this percolate through my head and I’ve looked at myself as well as the world around me.

As I write this, people are collecting together for an event here in Phoenix. I had a small part in that event early on. I am proud of that small part, and I’m glad it is going off. I hope that today, of all days, there is great and wonderful attendance, and that people are brought together who need to be brought together, and I hope that the message within it carried forward, and I think that it will be.

Had I been capable of such, I would have been delivering a segment today myself. It would have dealt with what I think is the most important part of the whole thing, which is the concept of intersectionality.

I will speak to that in depth here, sometime in the near future.

A long time ago, early in my blogging period here, I started a project I set aside. The first part of it still rests herein. And, in light of what I have seen and heard and read and felt and been touched by the last few days, I think I will give it a shot at completing it as well. Likely before I finish Spooks.

One of those whom I have opposed has chosen to shun me, writing a scathing attack on my person, then withdrawing it. Those associated with them have retreated to a different space, a separate place. This is good for them.

Some have chosen to use alternative methods to “combat me”, attempt to discredit me, perceiving in me, some way or some how some sort of threat to them or their person. And so it is that I must, to some extent, give credence to what they say, despite my long admitted hubris, and acknowledge that maybe I do have some small amount of influence, though how and why and what it good it may have is beyond me, sitting here on my own, feeling curiously barren.

I hope they find the peace inside they seek. I worry their fears will prove their undoing, but take some small comfort in the knowledge that their fears are what controls them, and I know their fears well, myself, and know that those alone will prevent them from accomplishing their goals, and so I need not shun them.

There are others with whom I have spent many a day fighting the good fight, who do not always agree with me. I hold unpopular views, I see things through a lens few can fully grasp, and I am often far too willing to roll in the mud and sewage with my opponents for their taste.

To those who say I think I am better than others, I have but one thing to note: I am not. But what I am is willing to go both to the heights and the depths and all in between, for what I hold, without much qualm.

I have had an encounter with those who would strike things from books because they find the ideas untenable, and rather than actually pause and consider, they choose to exercise their opinion over truth, and that’s ok. I shall call lies by their right name, but I shall not deny them that.

And all of this leads up to what I see, in little ways, the minor and the major, the little piece and the big one, and they all start to fit together in my skill like some sort of giant jigsaw puzzle where the pieces are always changing shape, and you must look at affinities to see the patterns and the connections and my one failing is that I am, as ever, always very poor at articulating these million threads as they tangle together in that glorious tapestry I cherish so very, very much.

IT is time, I see, though I doubt it will be my words that make it happen. It is time, I see, though I doubt that I will see it come to fruition.

There is much to do, of course. Much deliberating, much considering, much debate and many, many days of discourse that all too few are going to be given to.

But its time. The words will write themselves, the path will show itself to those who can walk it, the means and the ways will be set before those who do to accomplish it.

And I shall miss it all as I fear I shall miss this grand day that I had a most miniscule part in making happen.

Which happens when one cannot do much more than eke through things. But, as I am wont to say, we do what we can with what we have, and I have a few tools still left to me, a few sparse remnants of my ability to do for others.

I just hope they are enough.

And I hope I can accomplish it come Monday…

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