No more " thoughts & prayers"

                                             No explanation needed. 

My heart is so sad and angry. Again, a shooter, a young male motivated by racism, gunned down ten innocent Black Americans in a grocery store near Buffalo, New York. 

Once again, all of our elected leaders are calling for " thoughts & prayers" for the victims' families and wider Buffalo community. 

 Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. 

Our thoughts and prayers do not translate to ACTION-- be it at the pools or directly fighting to bring about change in our individual communities. 

I pray daily. Additionally, I do my best to fight racism by setting an example here in Pensacola. I write letters to my elected officials and to our local news rag. I vote responsibly-- taking into account the future of ALL people-- merely than the concern for myself & " people like me".  I've put my ego on the line and volunteered for a text-banking campaign to fight against an unjust bill in the Florida legislature. {It passed and was signed into law-- damnit!} 

I'm tired and angry, but I keep on fighting. 

It is not in my nature to quit, but I am sick of this shit. 

 Americans have a toxic love affair with firearms. {and I say this as a person who enjoys target practice at the range once in a while] We love our guns and ammo more than we love other people. A screwed-up version of " freedom" has adults acting like whining toddlers when the subject of responsible gun reform is broached. 

However, the deadly love affair we have with firearms is not the main problem. 

Racism is the pandemic that has been killing Black Americans for centuries. While racism might have reared its ugly head more in the past few years, the attitude that White people are {somehow-- I don't understand at all} superior to dark-skinned people. As a child growing up in Appalachia, i heard and saw instances of covert {and a few overt} instances of racist words and/or actions. There IS a huge racism problem everywhere, and I am tired of White people who are in denial about this fact. 

I'm grateful for Black people I know who are brave enough to inform me about what racism is and how it affects them. I do not expect my Black friends & acquaintances to do the work to educate me. 

COVID might be slowing down, but te pandemic of White supremacy rages on as more people die because of their skin color. 

Thoughts and prayers: Hell no. 

Help me change the hearts and minds of White people. 

Shalom...

Sarah McCarren

16 May 2022. 

A Writer on Writing Crap

                                          Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

  Part of my summer of " sabbath" will include some serious writing. I've a short novel in my head that has been itching to emerge, and my characters are revealing themselves to me. 

  My stories stay in my brain. Those prose pieces lucky enough to see some daylight usually suffocate either in a pen-and paper notebook or {most-likely} get lost forever in my computer's hard drive. 

  The problem is every writer knows that the first draft will be-- crap. It's a fact of a writer's life: nothing worthwhile emerges from a first draft. I learned this reality back in my Creative Writing class years ago {during my first three years of college at West Liberty} 

 Nearly one quarter century later and I still hate first drafts. I hate them so much that I have not finished any prose in close to 20 years. As I've grown as a person, my creative nonfiction work has improved.  

 Let us be honest, sharing true stories is a hell of a lot easier than baring our souls via our fiction. Writing fiction involves a vulnerability that is scary, because we all know that most fiction is based on a at least a grain of truth in the life of its creator. 

  I don't like "crap". I pour my heart and soul into fiction, knowing full well that I'll hate it as I write it. Since I do not wish to have anyone lay eyes on my " crap" I shelve the pieces and they eventually go to Prose Purgatory. They are not worthy of coming into full fruition. 

 Technology does not help: On my new Windows 11 laptop I struggle with finding the " crap" stored somewhere in the hallowed halls of the hard drive.  Voice- activated word-processing software is not accurate, cumbersome and expensive. 

Writing involves cuss words, sweat, and tears. It is not for weak people. 

Writers and other storytellers are essential to an evolved society.  Modern day prophets speak hard truths through poetry and prose. Good fiction can show people more truth about society than any news writer can ever hope to achieve. 

Fiction writing can bring joy, both to the creator and the readers. However, firs we writers need to get over our fear of vulnerability & making " crap". 

Shalom..

Sarah McCarren

11 May 2022
 

Do That Thing

 

                                            Me with the nephew and niece last Summer. Beech Mountain, NC. Photo by Brian 

    My priest, Susan+, who is on sabbatical this summer { May 1 til August 1} wrote some wise words in our parish newsletter-- giving voice to a prayer/ hope that I have been pondering . After two long years of Life In A Pandemic, we are all tired. Most of us are not afforded a total sabbatical, but we can , as my rector advised , make plans  to JUST BE. 

   "I invite you to find balance and rhythm by serving in a ministry, but also to set aside time to do that thing that fills you.{ What IS that thing?}"   ~ the Reverend Colonel Susan . 

  Its been a rough couple of years, and we are just NOW really seeing the end of this messy, long COVID tunnel.  

  During my parish's Womens' Retreat, I was intentional about taking a break from scrolling social media and looking at news. I popped online ONLY to post photos from the retreat. 

  That weekend, I'd discovered that the intentional time away from the screen allowed me to be fully present with the sacred sisterhood assembled at Beckwith Camp & Retreat Center. I discovered that the intentional rest from all media { not just social} settled my heart and re-filled my soul.  For two days, I was only focused on real community with the Divine Three-in-One and my sisters there present. 

  We have a trip planned in June to see some family members in the Western North Carolina mountains. With COVID less of a threat, my plan for this week away with Brian and our extended McCarren family members is to " unplug"  as I did during the retreat-- to focus on spending time in that beautiful part of Creation and on the companionship with those there. Brian and I have  several day hikes planned, and we are also hoping to make a day trip to Asheville and see a friend who lives in Hendersonville. 

 What does " Doing that thing" look like for me this summer back home in Pensacola?  We look forward to spending time with the niece and nephew when they come for a longer stay at my parents' house in Navarre. Brian and I plan to spend mornings kayaking the beautiful waters of Pensacola Bay and Santa Rosa Sound. He will also spend time fishing, so I'll take a book and some sunscreen and commune with nonhuman neighbors on the beach. 

 I also plan to take up some basketball skills-honing. I'd discovered from working with an athletic pre-K student this past school year that the simple act of ball skills on a court -- or even a driveway-- " centers" me. As that basketball and I move together, my mind sets itself free. Call it: Sarah's Zen and the Art of Basketball. Dribbling a basketball and attempting foul shots and lay-up shots energizes my body and feeds my soul. 

 I also plan to read more real books. Currently I am reading two novels. 

 Enough about ME, how might you " do that thing" this summer? 

 In the Name of the Three-In-One...

Amen. 

Sarah McCarren

9 May 2022. 

A Poem. {Which might ge me put in FB Jail for the first time }

I wrote a poem today. This is my FIRST poem in 15 years, so I am a wee bit rusty in that genre. But after last night's leak of the draft of the SCOTUS 's opinion on overturning Roe V Wade, I HAD to speak out. Someone whom I admire and whose works feed my soul reminded me that prophets in Scripture spoke truth to power via poetry. 

I'm in good company, amiright?  

There isn't much I can do with what will probably happen . However, if I learned anything in these weird times we've been in, I've learned the power of a few dedicated citizens.  In the words of rock group Twisted Sister 

"We're not gonna take it

No, we ain't gonna take it
We're not gonna take it anymore

We've got the right to choose, and
There ain't no way we'll lose it
This is our life, this is our song

We'll fight the powers that be, just
Don't pick on our destiny 'cause

You don't know us, you don't belong.." 

Here is MY poem... after a 15 year hiatus.............................................

Compartmentalization: A Poem

" My body, My choice" they cried..

refusing to take a series of vaccines

protecting themselves

and OTHERS

brought to them by reputable science

No charge.

FREEDOM FIRST they cried...

as people continued to fall ill

some dying,

others permanently and adversely

affected

by a preventable illness.

All the time not masking

standing at the altar

of false ideals

of what " freedom" means.

" MY BODY, MY CHOICEe I cry...

standing in solidarity

with uterus-owners everywhere.

watching scared and angry

as old men

and one crazy bitch

strip away body agency

with the stroke of a pen.

Sarah Elizabeth McCarren

3 May 2022

#MYBODYMYCHOICE

 

#Unpacking: I am Enough

                  This year's " found treasure" from the women's retreat.  I claimed it because this weekend of celebrating the enfleshment of the Triune Holy One reminds me that I am " perfectly " made in the Divine image and also invited to dance with Them. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

I dedicated today to unpacking and putting away things from the retreat. In that spirit-- I committed to " unpacking" a wee bit about what I experienced that year. Each St Christopher's Annual Women's Retreat is special, and each year I come back with a better experience of The Holy. 

   This year's theme was " Divine Dance" We explored that theme in many different ways, from worship to dance/ movement activities in both large and small groups, to baking bread using things from the Earth we inhabit.

 During some Saturday afternoon free time, I took a slow walk around the gorgeous Camp Beckwith campus. Something shiny on one of the picnic tables near the bay caught my eye. Sine shiny things attract me, I stopped to look at the lovingly painted oyster shell with the words YOU ARE ENOUGH   painted in a gold-colored craft paint. Sensing that I needed this message, I picked up the shell. 

Early the next morning I had some time to journal in my room. I recalled how hard it is for me, at middle-age, to feel like I am enough-- just as God made me. My physical body is far from society's idea of " perfect". Learning to accept this reality is hard-- as I've always been active.  I'm far from sedentary, but my fitness routine has evolved to suit an aging vessel. 

I cannot bear children from my womb {and it is now Mother's Month, which is a whole other essay which I probably won't write} My back-- with all its rods and screws, requires twice yearly injections to keep me walking with no pain and with a safe balance. My eyes now require trifocals.  And the latest #LifeAsSarah diagnosis is one that had my blood pressure and pulse dangerously low because my vagus nerve {the nerve that runs from the bottom of the brain to the lower gut area} will misfire signals that affect my heart. 

That is some scary shit. Since God still wants me to dance with Them, I am making some major diet and lifestyle changes. 

Physically, I feel broken. My body simply cannot do some of the activities it did at a younger age. each May, I'm inundated with pleas to   " make her day on Mother's Day" as I plan to quietly sit alone in church and seethe. 

That small find on the campus of God's Front Yard affirmed that I, in all my physical brokenness, am enough. I, like my healthier sisters around the world, am also invited to dance with the Divine Three. God cares not what a person's physical body can or cannot accomplish, They only care that we humans spend some time dancing { whatever dancing might look like for each person according to ability} with Them. As Bishop Russell Kendrick, of The Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast, says God made you { me} God knows you{ me} God loves you { me}. 

 You are enough. I am enough

 God invites us all to dance, and They delight when we accept the invitation. 

Amen

Sarah McCarren

2 May 2022

After a Social Media " Mini-fast".

                                 Rainbow over Weeks Bay in Alabama. In the spirit of retreat, I took a " mini-fast" from social media & news: Opening my phone to ONLY post updated photos for memory-preserving. Photo By The Pensacola Hippie 

Today I returned home after a WONDERFUL weekend in beautiful bayside Beckwith Camp and Conference Center in coastal Alabama. 

In the spirit of TOTALLY being present with Creator God and the other women attending the retreat, I took a short break from social media and news outlets. For many reasons, the 2022 Womens' Retreat would be a holy, healing time & I did not need any distractions from my phone. To prepare for my brief fast, I uninstalled all social media apps from my phone. Upon my return home today, I only reinstalled Instagram. I discovered tat Facebook Messenger was a distraction that I no longer need nor want in my life. I'm keeping Messenger on my laptop ONLY--allowing me to be more present ** and** share photos of life's joys. 

For the most part, I am a huge fan of social media. Yet after two years of living " behind a screen" and wearing masks around people I know and love, I sought a way to remove a barrier to being FULLY PRESENT with Adonai and the beloved people around me . 

                                Me with my small group. Photo by Jennifer B. 

I enjoy social media.  Yet I know that most Americans-- including me-- over-use social media.  There were some wonderful moments this weekend that are too sacred to share--- moments that will stay etched on my soul. 

Regarding " news", I am very careful with what I consume. During the worst of the pandemic, I was forced to consume every detail about the new virus-- and it poisoned my soul. Thankfully, I am married to someone who is a news hound, and he knows to share with me only what I must know as a responsible citizen. To be away from the 24-hour news cycle was balm for my soul. In order to keep this fast, I made a point of not asking Brian what is happening around the nation and in the world -- I am fortunate enough to have a spouse who understands that when I say I need a break-- I need a BREAK. 

I'm glad I had this sacred time away-- and with no distraction. 

Happy Easter/Beltane, friends. 

Amen. 

Sarah Elizabeth McCarren

1 May 2022