(And the future without guarantee)
July 2026
Waking up from my dream. I looked down over the Atlantic coast on my final flight home going Philadelphia to Boston, seeing the landscape where 250 years ago, the American settlers revolted against the British Crown; and the idea of monarchy. A land, once untouched by the hands of Europe, now engulfed by the ‘progress’ of civilization. A people, living, mostly unknowingly, in a world much of which inspired by the one I had just left; Rome.
Our United States has a fascinating, and many times, paranoid history. For a long time, and in some cases today, negative views on Catholicism informed the views of much of the electorate. There was a deep seeded fear that the Vatican would use it’s sway over elected Catholics to alter the national politic in their favor. Unknown to those informed by their paranoia; the founders of the nation were themselves inspired by the history of citizen governments found throughout the Greek and Roman world, thousands of years before their time in the 18th century. These people, many of them illuminated, using their extensive knowledge of the history of the world: built a nation which has bred a people who have gone on to fly. Advance science to a place that would stun the alchemists of old. Medicine, which would silence most renowned healers of myth. Technology, that not but a century and a half prior would be considered magic.
Don't mistake my words, this is not been simply 250 years of "progress". The tale of our civilization, has not and will never be a linear one.
I understand those who, in this moment, look at their United States, and see nothing but the destruction, the terror, the death that it has imposed on the world. Anyone with eyes to see will in one way or the other feel the pain of the souls lost to the nonsense of war, the insanity of a system called healthcare that profits off sickness, the marble halls of the structures of government occupied by those with no interest other than those that promote their own.
Only a fool would attempt to paint a different picture of the reality of our national government.
And only an ignoramus would see that as the end of the story.
I was expecting Europeans to express nothing but discontent with our America, and Americans; and was quickly disabused of that notion. Our United States is looked at as the land of milk and honey. Opinions of the leadership aside, and they had them, everyone I spoke to about America; even those from nations America has fought recent wars with, ended our conversation with respect and admiration for the spirit of our United States.
After a week back to work, I spent the next weekend in Ogunuquit, Maine with family. Other than the occasional funeral, I did not see this side of the family much growing up. There were past complications that kept us from spending much time together.
And then a series of devastating losses made us all realize; the present is fleeting and the future is never guaranteed.
Wrapped up in our own grudges and gripes, we lose sight until it is too late. Out of our own feelings of self-importance, we don't reach out when we know we should. In the process, degrading the very fabric of our families. We're afraid to confront the hard truths, ending old tensions. We have made our own comfort the priority, losing responsibility which used to be inherent in a family. Letting our elders, and their wisdom, stir in loneliness. Our young fill the void with slop. Our adults are petty, self interested, children.
The institution of family, the bonds of blood, were once where human beings found their grounding. It is the tribal instinct from the beginning of time. That which was once found with the pillars of family, trust, and truth; is now found within the hands of the charlatans masquerading as leaders. By people who twist the very idea of trust, and who's only truth is that which is convenient at the time.
As I get to know my Mothers father and the family, I see the tensions of the past weighing heavy on the minds of those holding them, then subside with every hug, every exchange of laughter. Every moment of true connection, peeling away years of pain, one layer at a time.
If we allowed the grudges of the past to keep us from those moments, wisdom would go unheard, stories, unshared, opportunities to heal ignored.
Having to drive to the State House one of those afternoons for a bill signing. I thought of all of this in the context of the legislature as well. Had we approached every moment of the last session, writing one another off at first glance, seeking vengeance and retaliation for what metaphorically amounts to sitting at the wrong lunch table, voting for and against bills based on whether or not the prime sponsor sufficiently kisses up to the right people; then legislation such as Senate Bill 408 would never have been made law. Which mandated the lovely insurance companies cover prosthetic limbs for those insured over the age of nineteen.
Immediately providing life-changing care to hundreds of our citizens.
Or House Bill 707, which, signed into law up in Dalton at Forest Lake State Park on the 30th; created a site evaluation committee for the siting of landfills. Taking the first major step in a decade long journey to protect our environment from pollution.
It was Representative Kelley Potenza, Senator Rochefort, and hundreds of citizens, none of whom agree on all of the issues; but all of whom agree, we should protect the greatest monument we have to humanity, the environment around us.
It was Senators Gannon and Prentiss who refused to give up when knocked down, holding the stories of all those in need of prosthetic limbs, to do that which we take for granted day-to-day, close to their hearts; who brought the bill over the finish line providing that immediate new life to hundreds of people, and thousands more throughout the years.
I was privileged to be invited to the signings despite having been only a tiny part to these efforts which will stand the test of time. Doing that which we were all elected to do; serve. Fulfilling that which the legislature is truly meant to be about, a calling higher than yourself. I'll often call our State House a temple when I'm feeling poetic; but that's exactly what it is.
A Granite temple. The physical representation of the fact that we all occupy this land for a short bout of mortality; and have decided to invest in a future, without guarantee.
With faith those living off the fruits of the trees we plant, remember to tend the garden.
The last day of the month, a friend who knows I despise Hollywood - but love movies; pushed the right buttons and got me to see ‘The Odyssey’.
Out of all the monsters Odysseus faced - Polyphemus, Cersei, the six headed Celia, the Lystragonions; out of them all - none held him back more than the comfort provided by Calypso. She didn't chase, attack, or even threaten him. Instead, she gave him pleasure, safety, comfort, and even immortality. The pain, suffering, and loss of the earlier parts of the journey only fueled his drive to return to Troy. Only the comfort of Calypso could have made him forget that journey home.
Odysseus spent twenty years telling everyone he yearned for home. Then he sailed passed the sirens. Whose song has ended the journey of all travelers that have heard it. Brashly wanting to be the first to survive the song. He orders his men to tie him to the mast, with his ears free of wax as they pass through the sirens’ sea.
In the film, Eurylocus asks Odysseus once the ship has passed: "What was the siren song?”
Matt Damon playing Odysseus responds,
“All the things you'd want it to be.
Then all the things you'd wish you never wish for.
Told you what you most want. Is what you most can't have.
And what you most can't have.
Is what you already had.”
Aside from the soundtrack of ancient winds, the mastery of practical effect, all the actors putting their hearts into what they clearly cared so much about; the unbelievable cinematography capturing it all.
It was the feeling that this wasn't only a fascinating adaptation of a tale older than our written word; but a retelling of an Odyssey (roll credits) which is the story of every human being that entranced me.
We've all fought wars of the soul.
Heard the song of sirens telling us what we want is no longer there.
Bathed in the comfort of a calypso holding us back.
We all have an Ithaca calling us home.
And it's on us individually, to find our way there, no matter the hard truth we find.
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