Having survived the last few days of perplexity — pondering what LBJ used to call ma’fel’murcans “celebrating” the anniversary of the so-called “birth” of our nation by marching in a local, small-town parade with my 14-pound boyfriend while the both of us got shot with a water cannon and repeatedly shocked by exploding cherry bombs — I’ve been ruminating on the genius of Ursula LeGuin.
Ursula left her body before she ever had to meet this moment we’re living through right now. Maybe she heard of DJT but she was spared having to endure his current rise to power from inside the fragility of a human body/mind.
On the other hand, maybe she’s suffering along with us right now, in spirit.
Maybe it’s her suffering — wrapped in her brilliant foresight and wild sense of humor — that compels me to bring her words forward again in time, using my voice.
Maybe I’m doing this because I can hear her chuckling filled with both detachment and compassion for us all. Maybe it’s that faint chuckling I can’t stop hearing that’s compelling me to re-read Always Coming Home as we Americans are, once again, journeying together through another valley of the shadow of death.
I don’t know. Do you suppose it’s Ursula’s loving kindness nudging me — from outside time — to read aloud these pieces she wrote? Is it her nudging me to “take my time…” while I use my voice to urge you to take yours? Or is the nudge coming from Pandora, herself?
I don’t know. But I’m definitely taking my time. Damn it, it’s my time to take.
I hope you enjoy this piece. To me, it feels like taking a long, cool drink of water.
If you want more of this and would rather read instead of listen, you can find a pre-owned copy of Always Coming Home on EBay for a price of $9 to $200.
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