Feet on the Ground

 

By Marilyn Moore

Two weeks ago today I was in the Cotswolds, a rural area of England known as the Fairy Tale Villages.  We were beginning our first walk on the Cotswolds Trail, a part of the National Trust that assures public paths through private property in this very picturesque part of the country.  We began in the little village of Marshfield and walked a little over four miles to St. Catherine’s Court.  The path led us along fields where barley had just been harvested and through meadows and pastures where sheep and cattle grazed.  We crossed fence lines and boundaries through an interesting variety of gates, designed to let people through, while keeping animals in their home pasture.  The terrain was flat in some places, rolling in others, secure footing in some places and a little less so in others.  Wild berries were a welcome roadside snack.  There was sun, and shade, a walk by a creek near the end, then a steep uphill climb to the chapel at St. Catherine’s Court.  Walks later that day would bring the total miles walked to a little over six.  

Subsequent days were similar, each day including five to seven miles of walking public paths on and through private property…fields, meadows, pastures, forests.  One day was rainy, the others, clear and sunny.  There were twenty people in our group; I was among the slower walkers.  It was not a race.  It was an opportunity to see this beautiful little corner of God’s creation up close and personal.  I realized as I walked at my ambling pace that I was experiencing, through feet on the ground, the farms and small villages in a way that I would not have done had we just driven through it.

There’s a feel for the ground when you step on it, when I walked on soil that had been turned, tilled, planted, harvested, and let go fallow before the next crop, a time for the soil to rest, to replenish itself.

There’s a feel in the meadow, with grass growing and grass dying, harboring the tiniest of flowers and the tender new shoots, highly sought by the sheep who were grazing nearby.  What looks like an even carpet of green isn’t when you walk on it; there are bumps and divots everywhere, evidence of grazing that slows my pace.

There’s a feel in the forest, under a canopy of trees that have grown for decades, a trail that has had fallen leaves and berries ground into it by countless walkers.  Feet on the ground, a literal connection with that time and that place.

This morning I walked one of my neighborhood walking routes, a little over two miles, noticing again the feel of feet on the ground…the bumps I know to anticipate where concrete has buckled, the cracks and uneven spots from Nebraska ice and snow, freezing, expanding, and thawing.  I notice the first of fall campaign yard signs start to appear.  I cheer the new plantings in neighbors’ yards that have made it through the hot/cold rainy/dry summer.  I marvel at a new garden spot, created where a huge tree had been removed a few months ago.  Feet on the ground, I know my neighborhood in a way I did not before Covid forced me to walk outside, instead of heading for the fitness center as I had done for so many years.  Feet on the ground, a visceral, physical connection with this time and this space. 

Farmers who walk fence lines, ranchers who ride ranges, outdoor guides who lead hikers over hill and dale, up and down mountain trails, day laborers who harvest strawberries and lettuce and other crops by hand, work that is hot and tiring and hard on body and soul, all know the land in a way the rest of us do not, because they are walking, feet on the ground.  They know the time and space in which they stand.

The term “grounded” can also mean that upon which a person stands, a belief, a value, a core…something so deeply held it reminds the person of where they stand in space and time.  At a memorial service a few days ago for a long-time friend, it was clear from the remarks of the speakers that this person was grounded by scholarship, by relationships, by a sense of social justice, by family, by faith.  So grounded by these principles, or values, that most of his life could be seen through these lenses.  Regardless of the path, his metaphorical feet were grounded by this core of beliefs.

As I watched the two political conventions this year, I found myself thinking about the values and beliefs held by candidates for office.  Like many of you, I suspect, I’ve come to believe that choosing a candidate based solely on their policy stances is difficult – remarkable as it is to me, no one agrees with my stance on every policy question.  There are some big policy issues for me, like voting rights, climate change, access to healthcare, public education, and I look at those, but even within those, there are nuances of positions – and I also know that in the messy process of governance, compromises are necessary in order to get things done, and policy absolutes become a little less certain.  

So instead of looking only a policy position, I’ve started thinking about what core values and beliefs ground a candidate.  What is the ground on which they stand, that will mark their decisions in this time and place? Will they be grounded in a fundamental belief that all persons are worthy of respect and dignity?  Are they grounded in hope, or despair?  Will they hold fast to the messy democratic principle that all voices must be heard?  Will they seek to include the least, the lost, the forgotten?   

And with their feet firmly grounded, will they also lift their eyes, and their soul, to the heavens to see all that might be possible?  

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An invitation to turn the news back on … only 86 days left

By Mary Kay Roth

Cicadas are thrumming on this cool August evening as dusk settles over my flower patch of Black-eyed Susans and the rhythm of summer starts to turn, ever so gently. Nightfall is just starting to overpower the pink mist of sunset, the sounds of a few persistent air conditioners blend with the last whisper of twilight birdsong, and I know the first star is up there, somewhere. 

Outdoors has always been my escape from the madness of this crazy world, a place of peace, my way of calming the roar of humanity.

But tonight’s respite will be brief.  Tomorrow I will return to the real world, rested and ready. I’ll tune into and turn on the news and – as of Saturday – count down 86 days to the November election.

I am not stepping away.  

Though many others have.

Over the last few years, I’ve heard so many people – some of my own dear friends and family – declare they are turning off and walking away from the news. Frustrated and stressed out, they say they simply cannot watch or read another dismal news story. They believe they have no voice, cannot make a difference anymore. 

In fact, when you Google “turn off the news,” you’ll find promises of health, wealth, serenity and nirvana.  Ohhhhmmmmm … 

The Pew Research Center reports that 51 percent of adults in the U.S. said they followed the news all or most of the time in 2016 – but that had fallen dramatically to 38 percent in 2022 (the last time they counted). 

Worrisome numbers.

So, I’m writing this blog to extend an official invitation – for you to come back. 

“The salvation of the state is watchfulness in the citizen"  – those are the words etched on the main entrance to the Nebraska State Capitol.  And it’s darned near impossible to be watchful when you don’t know what’s going on.

Eighty-six days from Saturday, among many ballot choices, voters will likely:

• Elect the person who will lead our country for the next four years.
• Choose representatives for Congress and our State Legislature.
• Decide whether women in Nebraska have control over their own bodies.
• Determine if this state will drain our public dollars by funding private schools.

That we need a free press for a working democracy is a belief as old as our own democracy – considering the founding fathers included freedom of the press in the very First Amendment of our Constitution.  

Citizens of our country are charged with making informed decisions about whom to vote for and what policies to support.  But without news and information voters operate in a vacuum of ignorance that impacts everything from critical thinking to civic engagement.  

Margaret Sullivan, author of “Ghosting the News: Local Journalism and the Crisis of American Democracy,” writes: “News provides us with in-depth analysis and context about current events, which helps us understand the world better … brings to light important issues and provides us with multiple perspectives on the same event. This helps us gain a more nuanced understanding of the world and enables us to form our own opinions on important issues.”

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not urging you to immerse yourself in news – 24/7. 

I get it. These days the lens of news and politics often seems toxic, confusing and confounding. That’s when stepping away is a good thing.  Time to …. read a book, watch movies, work in the garden, catch a ballgame, pet your pet, bike trails, dance the tango – listen to cicadas. 

I’m only suggesting that you don’t step away completely. Come back, find reputable news outlets and participate in this precious democracy.

Our country needs each and every one of us right now to:

• Pay attention to what’s going on in our community, our state, our country, our world.
• Take a stand, put up signs, write postcards, make phone calls, speak up and speak out.
• Vote.

Heather Cox Richardson, a wise historian, tells us: “And this is our time to stand up and be counted. It's scary and sometimes it's boring, and sometimes you wish you could go to sleep earlier, but nobody who gets stuck in a moment like this says, ‘Hey, this is great, I get to be miserable in this process.’ What they do get to say is, ‘I did the right thing when it really mattered and at the end of the day, that's really what it means to be a human being.’”

So, on this lovely Friday evening, I plan to linger outdoors for a good long while and get lost in the starlight.

Come tomorrow morning, however, I’ll have my cup of coffee and sit back to read the news.  

Because summer will soon turn to autumn. We have 86 days until the November election.

Please don’t step away.  

Instead, consider the honor and privilege we have in our country – to step up.

Pondering power ... could Harris help redefine it?

By JoAnne Young

As I started writing this, I had no power. Literally. It was Thursday afternoon and the power in our house had been off for 24 hours, part of the citywide outage that was being restored slowly. I knew it wasn’t rational, but I was hoping the people who had the power to restore our power wouldn’t forget us. When all you can do is wait, because the power is in someone else’s hands, my mind wandered into a black hole of wondering and doubt. 

 

It reminded me how important power is, in our homes where the lack of it changes our lives in so many ways, in our streets where we must rely on the cooperation and attention of others for our safety, and in our leaders who can choose to guide us rationally through a crisis, or who can contribute to the chaos. 

 

This week, I had to rely on the basics of open windows, books, candles and pencils and paper. I had to rely on others who had the power that I didn’t.

 

This has given me a lot of time to think about power, all kinds of power that make a difference in our lives. 

 

The events in the past couple of weeks have renewed my hope that a woman could, in a few months from now, be handed a big chunk of power in this world. I, and other women I know, have been waiting a lifetime for a woman to earn the keys to the Oval Office, to have major authority in decisions that affect the rules of society, defense of our country, foreign affairs, our economy and our public services. 

 

Someone who understands feminine power – power that can be defined as empathy and patience, creativity, good communication skills, an important kind of confidence. 

 

Vice President Kamala Harris is quoted in her book, The Truths We Hold: An American Journey, with this: “Democracy just cannot flourish amid fear. Liberty cannot bloom amid hate. Justice cannot take root amid rage. America must get to work. ... We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from the fear, the hatred, and the mistrust.” 

 

She has defined leadership. “The American people deserve a leader who tells the truth. A leader who does not respond with hostility and anger when confronted with the facts. We deserve a leader who understands that our differences do not divide us. They are an essential source of our strength.”

Harris’s entrance into the presidential race makes this so much more interesting. A recent Associated Press story noted that “Kamala Harris has range. She can grill nominees for the Supreme Court or meet with foreign dignitaries, then pivot to hosting a Diwali celebration or dancing enthusiastically alongside an Historically Black College and University-styled marching band.” 

 

She has dexterity, is good at celebrating all her identities and relating to many audiences. She’s an adroit code-switcher, someone who can deliberately adjust her speech style and expression to optimize relatability and ensure getting her message across. (Another woman who is good at code switching is Michelle Obama.)

 

In Cassandra Speaks, Elizabeth Lesser writes about the lessons of power handed down through the ages by men, from Machiavelli in The Prince, (“If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.”), to Sun Tzu in The Art of War (“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.”), to The 48 Laws of Power, compiled by Robert Greene (Law #17, Keep others in suspended terror: cultivate an air of unpredictability. Law #42, Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter).

 

What would it be like for humanity today if women had contributed to the theories and stories about what it meant to be a powerful person, she asks. “What if their emotional intelligence, their relational natures, their roles as nurturers, as healers, mothers and teachers had been respected, sought after and woven into the story of power?”

 

As I finish this up, Lincoln Electric System workers have restored the power to my house – my lights, my refrigerator, my electronic connection to the outside world. And they have given me lots to think about. 

 

What if women could add their voices to the stories of slaying dragons and waging wars and bombs bursting in air? What if it could be cool to be talkative, as Lesser says, brave to cry, noble to feel and relate? Laudatory to educate children and tend the garden?

 

What if a woman, for the first time, could lead our country?