Beginning Again

Because we can do that as often as we'd like.

Your silence will not protect you.—Audre Lorde

Here we are again, another year starting, and I’m taking time to reconsider, restructure, rethink, recommit. No resolutions, just lots of wondering. For most of last year, I didn’t think about this newsletter. I withdrew. I played solitaire on my laptop and listened to audiobooks, some new but mostly mysteries I’ve read before, books that didn’t contain anything that would emotionally ambush me. I can only take so much, and 2025 was a year full of slings and arrows.

I think I’ve avoided writing posts here because I’m afraid of what will come out, and if you are a writer—of any kind—you know that all kinds of things can emerge that can reveal something you might not want to think about because if you think about it, you might have to go back to bed and pull the covers over your head—speaking only for myself, of course. My friends take to the streets—literally—with signs. I told my friend in Oakland that I’d love to take part in a No Kings protest, but then I’d have to pee and would I be able find a place to do that without wetting my pants? (If you’re new to this newsletter, I’m 80, and I’m not joking).

We know that reading books expands our ability to think critically, to learn, to ask questions, knowing there may not be an answer but also knowing that the questions can lead to some darned good conversation. Yes, I’ve been reading for comfort and for entertainment, especially now when I feel beaten down by the horror of world events and what is happening here in the U.S., and I avoid those books that fill my already scared brain with more reasons to despair. But I don’t want to give up good discussion. I want to know what drives us, individually and collectively. I want to have an open mind when I disagree with something I read or something I heard. I want to manage my own overwhelming anger that is really a cover for overwhelming fear. I want to run for cover and I want to fight back and I do not want to be part of an us/them construction that can only lead to more dysfunction. And I know I am a work in progress and will get it wrong—again.

Ever tried? Ever failed? No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.—Samual Beckett

For the record, I am one of the “Liberal Extremists” that the MAGA Republicans fear. And here’s what it means to me to be a liberal extremist: I believe in our constitution and the rights of all people, regardless of their color, their religion (or lack of), their economic status, their country of origin, or whom they love. I believe in a woman’s right to choose what she does with her body, and I believe in a woman’s right to vote her own conscience and not her husband’s demands. (Yes, I am “woke.” The opposite of woke is asleep.)

That’s pretty much it. Liberal extremism? I call it love and compassion and respect for all human beings, even (maybe especially) those with opinions different from mine. I just thought you should know, because I want to continue posting here, and I have no idea what might come out and I don’t want to censor myself. If you are uncomfortable with my rambling and this kind of personal honesty, please unsubscribe. If you stay, I ask for your support in whatever way you can offer it—to me and to all of us who are afraid but not willing to give up.

And finally, I want to share this thought as we enter a new year that is bound to be full of challenges: I want to hang on to my ability to love, to not give in to hatred or my own despair, to not believe lies—no matter how they are dressed up, no matter how many other people accept them as truth. Let’s start the year with respect for each other and especially for integrity and personal courage. And good books, of course.

My warmest regards to all of you.