In a strange, odd way - I’m profoundly grateful for the phenomenon of Donald Trump. His ascent has stripped away all illusion of the capitalist republic masquerading as democracy maintaining the capacity to be held as a shining light of justice, truth, and equilibrium.

In reality, women have been mistreated since the early fall of Sumerian priestesses. The goddess Inanna was the last bastion of respect for the feminine in our global culture. There are still a few pockets of decency - say with the Mosuo people or perhaps the Yanomami? But by and large the rise of the assumption of the authority and superiority of violence, control, and domination is nothing new.

Which brings me back to that odd feeling of perilous gratitude. We seem to have to see clearly what we don’t want in order to reach for something we do want instead. It’s the contrast that brings truth into sharp relief.

Toe pieces of mine you might enjoy reading - they take the long view - are:

This is the Time of the Unweaving
& She Has Come

None of us would be here without women. It’s time to take this reality to heart. Or else our kids won’t have long to enjoy the miracle that is life on this world.

I will choose hope in the face of incredible odds.

Because what’s the point of giving up?

Thanks for sharing this one!