The Sometimes-Questionable Grace of Entanglement

I’m blue, my longtime friend is red. It’s a knotty situation.

Yikes, that old lady neck!!! :) Photo by JBB

I squat to retrieve a key
that skittered into a corner
when I realize that yet again
my Coptic cross
and Athena medallion
are tangled, twisted and –oh no! –
knotted
Two chains dreadlocked
by unseen fingers

You and I are tangled necklaces, too
Each, the other’s cross to bear –
at cross purposes
these star-crossed days
One red, one blue – both baffled
by the other’s unwillingness
to concede
she’s not the goddess of wisdom
whose favored combatants
merit victory more

It takes a gentle touch,
a steady hand, a steely eye,
and arias and psalms of breath
to untangle my necklaces
Sometimes I’m tempted
just to break them
and be done with it

The key is to do something else
To surrender to the grace of space
before trying again
What knots us, my friend,
cannot be unraveled
Cannot

Right?

---

I’ve written before about my 38-year long friendship with MAGA Mary. A few examples of her views that twist us into a knotty snarl: Trump developing Gaza is “an intriguing idea;” Kristi Noem’s lack of knowledge of due process “doesn’t bother” her; Senator Alex Padilla’s manhandling by ICE was understandable. She claims not to support cruelty but approves “the reasoning” behind deportations, kidnappings, and disappearances.

And let’s not start on her rants about transgenders or her militant (deluded) faith in Jesus.

WHO IS THIS WOMAN????

Who was this woman? She was the sister I never had. A travel companion, not only to my ex-husband’s lake house in Wisconsin or her ranch in So Cal wine country – but my staunch compatriot as we meandered, skipped, danced, or marched resolutely, arm in arm if not always in lockstep, through four decades. We rejoiced together. We celebrated holidays together. We volunteered together. Through valleys of shadows and crucifixions of heartache we shepherded one another, resurrecting wiser and more compassionate.

Or so I assumed.

MAGA, Russian bots, and what Meidas Touch calls “state regime media” have rendered my sister unrecognizable. Her eldest daughter is grief stricken; the mother she knew is gone. Gone with the rank winds kicked up by one abysmally broken, authoritarian, mendacious, duplicitous, vicious creature and his minions.

MAGA Mary is a horsewoman. I don’t share her love of riding; I’m afraid of heights and horses are ‘tall.’ Yet I loved horse racing until, a few years back, horses began dropping like flies at my local track. That said, for 15 years, I referred to my Mercedes sedan as “my trusty steed Zeus.” When Zeus needed to retire – a dark day indeed – I adopted a bright red KIA and promptly named her Athena.

Athena is the goddess of wisdom and victory. I resonate to the symbolism for obvious reasons. So much so that, recently, while in Athens, I purchased a silver and gold Athena medallion on a silver chain. One short enough to work with my longer gold necklace holding a Coptic cross, which symbolizes faith, sacrifice, and the overcoming of adversity.

“Will they snarl?” I asked the jeweler as he fastened the Athena necklace behind my neck.

“Oh no,” he assured me.

They do. Nearly daily. I’ve learned to check them often, undoing any snarling at the starting point. If I’m lazy or forget – oops! I may well wind up with a knot or two. Sheer hell, especially since I leave the necklaces on no matter what. (Their clasps are the size of a dust mite.)

Athena rings my throat. She encourages my 5^th chakra to express truth yet remain open to listening.

Unfortunately, I’m too reactive a creature to listen to the gospel of MAGA and summon compassion. I judge. I erupt. I condemn. My friend senses this, shooting back rapid fire “What About-isms” laced with defensive invective that makes my terms of choice – “fascist” or “useful idiots” – sound like endearments.

It’s an unholy mess. So, while we’ve patched up our latest spat, vowed never again to discuss politics, and reaffirmed our commitment to our friendship, we are giving one another space. Lots of space. I’m on Mercury. MAGA Mary is on Pluto.

Sometimes it’s simply more effective to love from afar. Alas.

---

Thank you to

Louise Foerster

&

Thomas Gaudex

for the welcoming home here on Substack Scribe. Thank you, dearest readers. As ever, love.

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