Thus far

Thursday afternoon.
I lay back in the reclining dentist chair. Time to add another crown. I reckon if we didn't have crowns, I'd have only gums where my molars root.

I'm always impressed how dentist staff can understand what I'm saying when I "talk" while they work in my mouth. My hygienist is especially adept at understanding the guttural language.

I actually like going to my dentist. I really love the staff. Always pleasant and cheerful. It's such an uplifting atmosphere. I don't like being drilled, etc. But, it's not too bad in the scheme of life.

Dr. Dentist walks in, his pleasant self. He points at my hand-and-wrist braces. "You going into a boxing match?" he jokes.

"I'm gonna box Trump up side the ears," I respond in kind, not knowing if Dr. Dentist is a Trump supporter or not.

"Oh my gosh. I know," he says. "I've quit listening to or reading the man for the most part. I just end up upset and agitated. He is who he is. Nothing I do will change him."

"Right," I reply.

~*~

Tuesday night, prior to Thursday.
I decide that beginning Wednesday  I'd take a break from reading current politics, including Trump's bombastic tweets.

But Wednesday takes a different turn. I end up spending hours in my head working through thoughts regarding Trump, his supporters, media from all sides, and bottom lines setting off an angst that ricochets like a rouge ping-pong ball, internally bouncing like a confused compass needle. To add to that, I handle a couple stressful circumstances and then have two separate odd encounters with strangers in downtown Mt. Airy. I think, I'm surrounded by crazy people. 

It was ending up a weird Wednesday, thus far.

I had gone to Mt. Airy to ride its Greenway. But by the time I arrive at the Greenway, I am exhausted. Not that I had much energy when the day started.

Carol, do you just go home and go to bed? 

I remind myself that cycling through the woods often helps my physical and mental fatigue. I opt to ride.

Mother Nature works her magic. Anxiety melts. My body and mind are soothed. I see my groundhog friend and the two great herons that make Ararat River their home.

~*~

Dr. Dentist's words the next day, on Thursday, remind me of what I had decided on Tuesday night.

Friday.
I do okay with my politicalless and Trumpless endeavor.

I dedicate Saturday to a mountain day-trip and cycling on the New River Trail. It will take my entire focus. But it will be worth it, I hope.

~*~

Saturday morning.
Unfortunately I look at the news and read Trump's tweets blaming Puerto Rico for not doing enough to help themselves in their dire circumstances...ten days going at that point.

What. The. Fuck. I didn't think even Trump could sink this low. 

I was stunned, but only momentarily.

This is Trump. This is what he is. He's a megalomaniac. 

His words were cruel. Cruel words from a cruel, selfish, heartless, without-conscience, sliver-spooned-golden-toilet-sitting, interested-only-in-his-own-glorification liar.

I had viewed a couple videos the night before from Mayor Cruz. Yes, she sounded over the top. Yes, she sounded desperate. But it's an over-the-top, desperate situation. I thought she went too far with her genocide statement. But I couldn't criticize it or hold judgement against her. I have never lived through a disaster like Puerto Rico was dealing with. And they are headed into day ten! Ten days of this crap! 24/7.

Even, even, even if his verbal attacks toward Mayor Cruz were factually correct, it's still cruel and morally wrong for him to express those opinions while they're dealing with this shit. And it's ten days in! They're exhausted beyond anything most of us can imagine.

I haven't read or seen anyone disparage first responders.  I've read just the opposite. Perhaps Trump is lying? Surely not.

And to blame Mayor Cruz and Puerto Rican "others" for wanting everything done for them and not being able to get their people to work together?  My god. Talk about victim blaming.

And then for Trump to accuse the Mayor of colluding with the Democrats to make him and his administration look bad? This man doth project his own tactics, perhaps?

Poor Trump. He is the victim of the media and the opposing political party. 

What an ass.

How can anyone with good conscience rationalize and support such an outwardly, cruel, inhumane son of a bitch?

You know how Carol. You did it. Wierwille. Martindale. Rivenbark. Knapp.

But maybe your conscience wasn't so good at those times.

~*~

My internal ping-pong ricochet is set in motion. Oh gawd. This is not where my energy should go. Energy expended again to getting Trump-nation out of  my head.

I journal, and that helps, some. Hubby and I talk, and that helps, some. After I get on the road, I make a pit stop along Hwy. 52 and call my daughter. We talk, and that helps, some.

But it again takes Mother Nature to soothe my soul and body.

I arrive at the New River Trail in Galax. My cycling starts very slowly. My main symptoms this day are fatigue, pain radiating from my left hip to knee, tender palms, and my ongoing digestive issues. Add to those the anxiety regarding Trump and his loyalists. I take medicine for my tummy, begin my ride, and repeat to my body and mind - drop it. settle. woman on bike riding in woods. - endeavoring to simply be in the present.

I take in the scenery. The scents of autumn. The sound of my tires on gravel. The crunch of leaves. The sound of rapids in Chestnut Creek. The invisible breeze. Eventually I listen to music through my Bluetooth.

I shuffle thoughts examining my internal, ricocheting, ping-pong-ball response to Trump's words and his rationalists. Think of worst case scenarios. Accept worst case scenarios. Think of most-likely scenarios. Sideways. Upside down. Right side up. Distinguish "normal" from Trump's "abnormal" and how to stay grounded despite the "abnormal." Delineate facts from my own emotional filters. Endeavor to pinpoint what I feel and why.

Why does it bother me so? What can I do about any of this crap anyway?

Between it all I repeat - drop it. settle. woman on bike riding in woods. 

After an hour and fifteen minutes, I take a thirty-minute break. I sit alone in the woods by the New River. The trees sway in the autumn breeze. Leaves float to the ground. The tangles in my mind clear. My heart settles. Fatigue and pain are relieved and so are my tummy issues. Two cyclists approach, and we have a fun-filled conversation.

As I start my trip back down the trail to Galax, I whisper, "I'd like to see Great Heron. And some deer."

A few minutes later I spy Great Heron standing tall in Chestnut Creek. I smile, content. Then I pump my fist, Yes!  Teary-eyed and energized, my heart fills with gratitude. Mother Nature will not disappoint.

I see seven deer on my cycle-ride back.

Later, on my drive home along the Blue Ridge Parkway, I see nine more deer.

As I eat supper at an overlook - witnessing a sunset with pink, wispy, cotton candy clouds stretched over a blue-gray-purple canvas touching tops of mountains and dips of valleys - I feel whole, knowing the feeling will be fleeting but wanting so badly for it to never end.