Memento mori.

A friend posted on Facebook today, “ I can't believe this is happening. How is this happening? How is this happening? HOW IS THIS HAPPENING!?!”

And I was inspired to respond to him privately.

But upon later reflection, I decided to share what I wrote here. Because it actually makes a lot of sense for a lot of people, especially those of us who are approaching or in retirement age. Because what is happening is very likely unstoppable by average citizens. I’m not going to call the general election in July, but I am going to say that unless the Democrats pick someone else RIGHT NOW and do a hard sell, things are going to go south. 

And if they do go south, there is nothing I or you or any other ordinary person in this country can do to prevent that. 

*******

I stopped pondering escape long ago. I have neither the means to escape anywhere (not even out of state), nor the robust health to storm the barricades.

Instead, I have been pondering my mortality.

It’s not entirely bleak.

Of course, no one wants to die. But we all must die.

I leave no children behind, and more of my years are behind me than ahead.

(Don’t worry, I’m not considering suicide. I still love my life.)

I’m just having significant conversations with death and not shying away from them.

I recognized very long ago that I simply do not have the power, status or money to change what is happening in a significantly meaningful way.

So I am focusing on smaller pieces of meaning and moments much closer to the present. 

And that is probably the best I can do.

******

I shared this response with my friend, who until now had been exhorting everyone he knew to hang in and fight. But tonight, he admitted, after reading my response, that he was coming to a similar conclusion. I felt sad for him, and for all of us. Especially for those of us old enough to remember how life used to be.

Those of us who’ve lived long enough to remember when democracy meant something, when America was still a nation where most people tried to get along because behaving badly was still an embarrassment and behaving violently was still a crime. We kept our cruelest thoughts to ourselves when we got old enough to understand that this was how adults were supposed to behave, because getting along with our neighbors was still a worthy pursuit for most of us — we will remember what that was like.

Today, opinions and behaviors we once saw as marginal, fringe, have become the norm and have entered the mainstream. Elected officials have given their constituents permission to say and do horrible, awful, evil things to anyone they might disagree with, in the name of creating a more homogenous American society, and anyone who doesn’t fit the new norm — white, straight and conservative Christian — doesn’t matter. If you go after someone who doesn’t belong, you will not be punished, and you may even be called a hero by the people in charge. The  lives of those who aren’t part of the now-ruling majority no longer matter to the majority, whose protected status has been assured by powerful interests who stand to benefit by having their constituents as compliant, enthusiastic sheep — and heavily armed sheep at that.

The pendulum swings both ways.

When I was a kid, it swung one way. As I enter my later years, the pendulum is now swinging the other way. And it will likely not swing back in my lifetime. 

So what is left is memento mori. 

Remember that you must die.

What is the purpose of such a reminder in times like these?

I believe it helps to clarify not only what I can and cannot do, but what’s really important in the here and now. What’s in front of me. What I can touch and feel right now. Who matters and who I can be in this moment. 

If we’re lucky, we may impart something of that to someone younger than we are, someone who will be around after we are gone. We can impart what we can, and hope that some of it sticks. That it sticks long enough for those younger people to grow up, get stronger, acquaint whatever will pass for power and influence in their prime, and maybe slow down the pendulum and nudge it in the other direction. It won’t happen in my lifetime, and maybe not in their lifetime, but it could happen somewhere down the line. Maybe “could” will have to be enough. 

I won’t live to see it. This change took a long time to come about and it will take a long time to dismantle. But knowing that it is possible is enough. If I cannot die peacefully when the time comes, I hope this knowledge will allow me to die at peace. I’m grateful to be old enough to understand the difference.

“Death is no enemy, but the foundation of gratitude, sympathy, and art. Of all life's pleasures, only love owes no debt to death.” — Anita Diamant, The Red Tent.