Under a mile away, there is a house where a confederate flag hangs at the door of the garage. I know grown-ass adults live there, so this isn’t a matter of a misguided youth trying to be rebellious. And while I don’t know said grown-ass adults personally, their choice to hang that flag right here/right now is a message that can’t be ignored. Where I go with it: Hello, please know that the people who live in this house do not respect all human life and in fact feel fairly hateful toward a major portion of those who live in this country. (In actuality, the discovery in 2020 that a great majority—let’s just call it in the upper 80 percentile, and I’m probably under-calculating—of white Americans who never really went deep into their own racist tendencies were faced with them this year because, as Ibram X. Kendi puts it so well in this Atlantic article, “Donald Trump has revealed the depths of the country’s prejudice—and has inadvertently forced a reckoning.” I am of course one of those people who has had to call out and name my own prejudices and recognize that the work is an ongoing life process. For anyone who hasn’t started that work, I don’t know what you’re waiting for because as any good therapist or wise person worth their salt will tell you, there’s no chance of being your full self until you face what’s deep inside and take responsibility for your actions, no matter how entrenched. If the reaction is “oooh, it’s so hard. I’m so tired. I don’t want to” well, join the club and be proud of yourself for doing what you need to do to make yourself a better citizen of the world.) Okay, so I digress.

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This next week is going to be a doozy. In some moments (the naive ones?), I think, Hey, maybe this will be like Y2K: lots of buildup, which as many of us remember was a boatload of anticipated bang and very little boom in the end. In my most lucid look-around-me moments—like when the cartoonishly high-off-the-ground-need-a-stepladder-to-get-in pickup truck with the multiple Trump flags mounted in the back drives by—I think, Whichever way the election goes, it’s going to be really really bad. A voting block that refuses to accept the outcome. People taking to the streets. Violence. I made the mistake of reading this before I got out of bed this morning because, you know, yes I did wonder what Ron Suskind had to say about the day after November 3. Then I sat down to meditate. Wow, that quiet hour did not go well for me. We drive into my dad’s community and past a flagpole with about a trillion pro-Trump flags flapping. One of which is Women for Trump and my stomach turns that my fellow sisters actually want a self-proclaimed “Grab ’em by the pussy” sexual assaulter in office. (That is an actual quote in case someone needs reminding. Here’s the man himself saying it.) I know firsthand that women can and are as sexist toward other females as men, so that’s not the actual surprise, but can you imagine if any other person running for office said out loud what he did? Why/how in the world did people vote for this lecherous creature? And no, I have no interest in re-litigating the Hillary Clinton moments since apparently a socio-psychopath—yes, he’s been diagnosed as such (here, a peer-reviewed piece to that end)—was preferable to some over a Clinton who was distrusted because of an email server debacle (and again, I know the anti-Clinton folkx out there have a whole list of things to go with this as to why she was going to take this country down. jeezuz.). But anyway, for the three people who may be out there and call themselves undecided, or the seven-and-a-half who haven’t already voted and are planning on throwing down for the psychopath but may be open to swaying, I appeal to your humanity.

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Yesterday, I took a multi-hour walk around the neighborhood and up into Prospect Park to clear my head. A couple of things: the sky is still blue. So so blue. Flowers were really blooming, because nature, although directly under attack in this ass-quackery of an administration that has turned back climate-change regulations, is blithely continuing to dazzle as it does. Yes, this was a good reminder to keep my eyes open and notice all the things. I listened to some of my favorite podcasts (This Jungian Life and Louder Than a Riot are both working for me right now). I came home, looked at my calendar, and stepped into my National Voter Assistance and Showing Up for Racial Justice moments (there are still many things to do to help, just click on the links). I tried another round of meditation with a little more success.

I’m sending each and every one of my American readers strength for this week ahead. For those of you who are not in the US, please send us your good thoughts and support. I hope those of you still needing to vote choose to listen to your heart and vote for the man and woman who will work toward policies that skew toward humanity. Nothing’s perfect and they (and we) will have a looong way to go toward helping this country into a more stable place, but this disruptive madness needs to end, don’t you think?