I found this picture and it struck a chord. I am stand-up paddling far off the Kona Coast in Hawaii in the early 2000s. It was a calming, meditative experience and I always felt transported – as I was in fact! – to a different world, where all I heard was the rhythmic slap of waves under the board and all I saw was a gray blue, sometimes sparkling, expanse all the way to the horizon. I took to SUP immediately, rarely falling, riding the undulating surface, bent knees, ready to absorb whatever peaks and valleys lay ahead. I loved it and whenever we visited the Big Island, we went out – me on the board, Roberto in a kayak.
It was dangerous, given the life teeming below me that could have upset me at best and eaten me at worst. Dolphins are a favorite food of sharks, and apparently a paddle board seen from below, silhouetted against the sky, looks just like a dolphin, if you are a shark. I am a cautious person in unfamiliar settings, and I can’t imagine now what drove, or lured, me out there. Maybe the simplicity, the isolation, being alone, a tiny speck in the immense, awesome ocean. I had faith – in what I can’t say — that I would survive, and if not it would have been worth it.
It is now 2026, well into the second year of an egomaniacal dictator’s second term as US president. I don’t know what will become of this country. Huge damage has been done already, and authoritarianism is a reality. I am fighting as best I can, protesting, writing, organizing, supporting youth-run initiatives, and sending money in many directions.
Fear and hopelessness are the administration’s most deadly weapons.
I refuse to go there. Yes, there are life-threatening monsters swimming in my waters, ready to capsize me, take a bite out of me. But I can rise above, grip the board with my toes, bend my knees to ride the next wave, breathe deep and focus on the horizon. There is beauty, calm, and strength to be found if we rise above the chaos and panic. And if we look around at others — on paddle boards or rafts, in kayaks or rowboats, or whatever you need to keep yourself afloat – the view is fantastic! There is an ocean of community, an ocean full of hope. Sure, you will tumble into the fear, sink below into the darkness. But if you can scramble up to the surface, there will likely be a hand to help you climb back onto your board.
Floating on the Ocean – sitting amid snow piles – different environments, same disgust for the dangerous fool “leading” our country! I think a LARGE demonstration where everyone gathers in one place would make the republicans think twice before they pulled any more stupid shit. Maybe put fourth a more equitable agenda, inclusive of all races, ages, genders, all people!
So good to hear from you, Marcy. Hope you are well. Yes, the larger the better, really huge, could make an impact. I’ll be there! I’ll look for you.
Querida Lucy:
He tenido que derramar unas lágrimas pensando en el mundo con estos dictadores que aparecen rápido por todo el planeta , acá tendremos uno muy parecido desde el 11 de Marzo 2026 que ya se congracia y baja su cabeza para besar los pies del megadictador de USA , cada día la vida es más invivible , tenemos tantas necesidades y ahora estamos en el ojo del huracán por ser un país tan lejano, perfecto para tener experimentos sociales con el neoliberalismo y con el consumo masivo a expensas de una buena gestión en salud y en vivienda para cada Chileno , aún más con la gente más pobre que cada día se vuelve más pobre y los ricos cada vez más ricos , es un país desigual en oportunidades y en todas las cosas de la vida .
Permíteme tomar tu tabla de remo y poder flotar, sálvame en esa tabla que el tiburón ya me quiere confundir con un delfín , no quiero morir pero si es asi , que sea siempre luchando como desde que nací en un país del tercer mundo , acostumbrada a las cosas difíciles y pensando siempre en el prójimo, te quiero mi querida Lucy, siempre llegas con esas palabras que muestran que el mundo aun vale la pena con personas como tu .
Patricia desde Chile, en el fin del mundo
Muchas gracias, Patricia. Tu hablas con tanta sabiduria y experiencia, y tus palabras son hermosas y muy conmovedoras. Te quiero, tambian, querida Patricia, y toda la familia.
Since I am no longer physically mobile, I try to practice a moving meditation where I am at.
Miss seeing you and Roberto
So good to hear from you, Michael! I think about you often and the good times we all had in Ribera and Santa Fe, and the good work that you did for decades. I’m so sorry you’re dealing with physical challenges. I hope you’re doing ok, and you inspire me with your meditation — good for you! love, Lucy and Roberto, too
Beautifully expressed and written as always my sweet friend – sure miss seeing you. The world is such a sad and angry place but beauty and peace still exist – I see it in my daughter who will be a senior in high school next year – can you believe it? I still smile and chuckle remembering when your dog peed on her when she was a baby at your house – lol!!!!! Much love to you always.
We laugh about that, too! Our dog Buddy was absolutely smitten with her, sniffing her all over, with great respect and adoration, and then, the lifted leg to claim her. My memory is that I grabbed him in the nick of time before he hit his mark… but that may be rewriting history. Always great to hear from you, dear one.
So good to hear from you and know you are fighting the good fight. We miss you here on the big island. Take the win when you can!
We miss the big island a lot…and much of that has to do with you, your family, your open door, your fantastic meals, your energy and generous loving spirit. So good to hear from you. Hope all is well in your beautiful world.
Simply reading your story and thinking about you gave me a smile this morning. Thank you, Lucy.
And that smile bounced right back to me. Thanks, Susan. Glad you’re there.