Be the Anvil... or the Banana.

Remember saying 'the record's skipping' when the record-player needle ran into a scratch on an LP, or something?
I'd felt like I'd jumped the track for a while, but even more people cheered me up yesterday, and I'm in the groove again. 

As we in the US and elsewhere see a rise of bad actions and intentions, I am seeing so much personal good on display. Am I just noticing it more, or is it on the rise, too? 
Is the bad squeezing us like oranges?

First cheering thing yesterday, a woman donated six boxes of the best books––all of them high interest and in excellent shape. 
I could tell at a glance that they were gold: like-new books that customers will love––artsy, alternative, healing social justice--queer qabalah kinds of books––and that she could have sold elsewhere.

I thanked her heartily.

"I'm moving", she said, "and this store has helped me so much, I wanted to give back."

I wheeled the boxes on a dolly directly onto the sales floor and put them right out. I priced a few high, for us--$3.99–$5.99. Some of them, below, were 30, 40 dollars new. 
(But I left most at our flat price: $1.49 for paperbacks, $1.99 for hardbacks.)

I was gleeful that I'd already seen our main re-saler scanning ISBNs with his phone app earlier in the day. Hopefully neighborhood people will get to these books before he comes back. And in the afternoon, I saw a local woman buying several. She told me, 
"This is such an amazing place for books."
"People donate amazing books," I said.

_____________________

Then, three college students came into the thrift store, (all white women, one trans--I note for sociological interest), shopping for sleeping bags and tents. They were part of a student group, they told me, that gives supplies to people sleeping out, like the guy I gave a tent to the other day. 
 
I got talking to them when one asked me why a sleeping bag was priced $77.99.

We have few guidelines on pricing, so various coworkers come up with some weird ones, but that's weirder than even our normal. 

I have no idea, I said, but that is wrong.
I looked it up (on the internet in my pocket), found the brand for $50 used on eBay, and marked ours down to $14.99.

Within a mile+ radius around the store, people often walk up to you asking for help. Usually for the most portable help––money.

But last night at the bus stop, I had no cash so I offered a guy the banana I had in my bag.

"Thanks!" he said. "Bananas are my favorite."
 
"Me too!" I said.

This little exchange and watching this guy walk away carrying the banana helped keep the needle in the groove too. 
Everybody likes bananas. :)

(I need to remember to start carrying mittens and scarves in my backpack again--or else I end up giving away my own, and  I love the ones I have right now.)

The big public actors can be lighthouses. Like, I went to hear Rev. Marianne Budde speaking the other day. Her talk was called Courage Is Contagious--and she did en-courage me.

My favorite thing she said was:

"Don't just be against things.
Be for things."

So that's great. Even more, however, it's the everyday people, people who are not high-powered, who inspire me, because they are all around me, and I am in that category. 

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Side Note I: My Favorite Thing in Civilization 

The college women were so fresh and bright--not only because they were young, but because they've practiced good dental care. You can see this.

I don't just mean dental visits.
I mean access to sinks with running water (clean! hot!), new toothbrushes, ample toothpaste & floss––
and people who care and teach and urge you to use them.
We who've always had this tend to take it for granted.

The US could have better health care, for sure! 
But people of my class tend to overlook the fantastic public health system we already have. 
Functioning sewers!

They were hard won, and take a lot of maintenance. We would miss them if they're lost.
Hopefully it won't come to that.

[End Praise of Sewers]

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Side Note II: Praise of Silliness...

We got a donation this week of three boxes of ceramic figurines made in Occupied Japan (1947–1952). 
A few are rather fine, some are charming, and many-- most-- are lumpy copies of European porcelain.
Like this couple below. 

What are they holding?
She is supposed to be holding a fan, but doesn't it look like a dildo?
I don't even know what he is supposed to be holding.

Maybe I should gift this to Smitten Kitten, the feminist sex-shop.
________________________

A Serious Note: "The Anvil always breaks the Hammer. Be the Anvil."

Last night, I got a group email from the indie gym I used to go to. The founder, Ben, was an anchor for me during Covid and the George Floyd uprisings. I've mentioned that one day when the National Guard rolled past me  as I walked home, I'd stopped and cried with him.

So though I don't go to the gym, I've never dropped out of Ben's group e-mails.

His approach is not mine:
he is about helping people cultivate physical strength, as they are able, to support The Good. (He used to work with special Olympics, and he still coaches a group of weightlifters with Down syndrome.)

He talks about iron. I talk about yarn.

He is like a French Resistance fighter in WWII, 
and I, I suppose, am like a person who'd draw a butterfly on a prison wall (and then die of dysentery).
These, at best, are complimentary energies.

I love that Ben pours his heart out every so often.
(He also coordinates the sharing of info, gatherings, and actions, which I didn't include here.
 I'm sharing this last outpouring, here below:

Begin email from Gym Ben: [boldface mine]

"The Anvil Always Breaks the Hammer. Be the Anvil.

"Hey all, simply wanted to drop a note to everyone; 
I have some words on my heart tonight.

"As the feds roll through our city, we all know folks who are affected, some directly, some by degrees. 
I want to share something [a friend] said to me a few years ago when we were talking about being involved in the revolution. 

"I didn't know if I was doing enough, or what to do, 
and he simply said something along the lines of 
finding my spot in it, and doing SOMETHING. 

"I understood he meant this in the context of something meaningful and sustainable, as this was not a quick, easy fight. Meaningful change takes time, and effort, and very often, pain and sacrifice.

"We are in it, and it is real. 
Neighbors are being kidnapped by people with bad intentions. 

"A big part of the fascist playbook is to create division and terror, and destroy hope and faith. 
We must keep hope and faith, and understand this is a long fight, and a tough one. We will win this fight - always - on a long enough timeline.
We must withstand the hammer blows, see and feel what is happening, remember and connect with what we know to be Truth and what is Real. 
2 + 2 does not equal 5.

"This takes energy, so remember to rest, and remember to tend whatever it is in you that brings you vigor and energy. 
Find joy - especially those little spots of it. 
This is what we train for.

"Iron is a constant, an anchor. 
Let your training in a safe space, with safe people, and cool lights, be your anchor.

This gym is, and will forever be, as safe as we can make it, and as consistently *exactly what it is* as possible.

"We are Strong, Kind, Helpful, Considerate, Disciplined, Empathic, and Powerful people.

Take Care of Yourselves, and Take Care of each other.
Big Love... "

[End email from Gym Ben]

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How We Be.

There are all sorts of strategies to try to prevent and to fight against bad things happening, or to repair after. 
As Noam Chomsky says: 
You know (or can figure out) what it right for you to do. 

Or, I would add, to be.
Because there's also the cultivation of the kind of strength required to accept moments when you can't do anything--and sometimes that's in the middle of the action.
And then we call on who we are, how we "be".

I always point to what this scene in Toy Story 3:
as the toys are being conveyed on a belt into a fiery furnace, they can do nothing. They simply reach out and hold one another's hands. 

Sometimes we are the anvil.
Sometimes we are the banana.

Sometimes we are wonky, hand-painted sheep, like these donated figures from a creche made in Italy in ... the 1960s?
I love them! 

And how 'bout that chonky shepherd carrying a struggling sheep?

 
I'm going to the Needle-workers meet-up at the library soon.  

I have to leave plenty of time before going out to catch the bus to get dressed warmly to go outside.
It's 'warmed up' from our coldest day-- now it's 23ºF / –5ºC.

Have a good day, Beautiful Spirits!