Destruction might be just around the corner...

 Are we catastrophizing our current state as a nation? 

"This is the most (or one of the most) important election(s) in our history."

"The country is on the brink of collapse."

"If the other side wins, we'll be a third world country."

"If the other side wins, we'll go backward to the 1950s." 

And on, and on, and on, and on...

The othering, especially from the Trump camp because to me it seems more prevalent than in the Harris camp, but maybe I look at too many Trump videos and tweets and not enough Harris, though I'm pretty burned out on all of it at this point. (How 'bout than for a run-on sentence...) 

So back to othering. The thought ran through my noggin recently, Trump's obsession with Harris reminds me of Martindale's obsession with devil spirits. But it's not just an obsession with Harris. Hmmm, I think that it's more Trump's obsession with "evil" that so reminds me of the second president of The Way; evil and devil spirits were a main focus through his entire tenure as The Way's president. And his hollering from the pulpit got louder as the years rolled along. I once asked a prominent Way leader why Martindale hollered so much. I was told it was because he doesn't want the Household to get tricked by the adversary. 

There were times in The Way that I thought, It seems like the devil is more powerful than God. It was all about control. We followers were treated as children, and we complied. Similarly, Trump's rhetoric paints a picture of the US as a terrible place to live -- for one, a country invaded by foreigners who commit horrendous crimes. How many crimes have been carried out by US citizens in comparison to these 'lawless invaders'? I wonder how many US mass shootings have been carried out by these 'evil people'? (And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have a run-on paragraph.) 

No, I do not believe that this is the most important election in history. 

Maybe it's one of the most important in this century, which just started 24 years ago. 

Looking back, which election was the most important in American history? 

Perhaps the very first election?

Or the election that first allowed women voters?

Or the election that first allowed black voters? 

Or an election when the US was in a boots-on-the-ground war?

If Trump wins, he wins. (But it won't be by my vote.)

If Harris wins, she wins. (Which would be historic - the first woman US President.)

If Kennedy wins, he wins. (It's a moon shot. I sure wish the debate hosts, or whomever makes the rules, would allow Kennedy as well as other third-party candidates on the stage.) 

On the other hand, our country and world may be on a course of soon-collapse regardless of who wins the US presidential election. (Will there be a "bloodbath," regardless of who wins or loses?)

A past friend once asked my thoughts on climate change.

I responded, "What did the dinosaurs do to cause their own extinction?"

Point being, that was one earth cycle. 

Eventually, regardless of what humans do or don't do, this current earth cycle too will/may eventually end, perhaps similar to the dinosaur age.

That said, I think we humans have a big impact on climate and environment. 

And we are to steward the earth with care and foresight for the future.  

Sadly, pollution is kind of like government corruption -- there's so much of it how can we ever clean it up? 

But we humans are a prideful bunch...

And as Solomon wrote, "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."

So, destruction might be just around the corner...

~*~

I don't know about the hereafter...

But I want to believe there is something good awaiting...

The Highway Men: Live Forever

~*~ 

A couple essays, about our times, which I read after posting the above:

1. Charles Eisenstein: An Us that requires no Them

2. Pilgrims in the Machine: 2030 and Beyond: Are the end times coming, again?

Majestic magic portals...

I so enjoy my weekly daytrips, most of them to the mountains. 

Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment in Sparta, NC. I estimate that I've made this trip over 200 times since May 2022.

After my appointment was over, I look at the time. 4:15 PM. 

Do I take 18 South to Cumberland Knob or take a longer drive and go to Doiughton Park?

I check in with my energy levels. Cumberland Knob would be quicker. But Doughton Park would be more magical. 

Do I want magic or efficiency? Which would better refresh my soul? 

Doughton Park wins. Hubby and I had just visited there on July 6th. That's when met the timber rattler.

(Doughton Park picnic area is large -- 80 acres -- a part of the 6000-acre Doughton Park with its over 30 miles of trails which includes an approximate 7-mile section of the Mountains to Sea Trail (MST). The MST is 1170 miles stretching from Clingman's Dome in the Smokies to Jockey's Ridge at the Outer Banks.)

As my manner is, I drive first to the Comfort Station. I park Sir Edward and do the strenuous task of getting out of the vehicle. I open the back door on the driver's side. I open my hiking hip pack to get my whistle on a string and hang it around my neck. 

I've heard from multiple sources that bears are a plenty this year. Decades ago, a ranger told me to wear a whistle, that the loud noise can scare away bears. I've never had to use it, so I don't know if that's true or not. I now wear it for an additional reason when I hike; in case I fall, or something, I can blow my whistle until someone hears it.

I don my cap to help prevent any falling ticks from lodging in my hair. I place my phone in my hip pack and place the hip pack over my shoulder; I'm not going far so no need to go through the labor of clicking it around my body. I get my two trekking poles, lock Edward, and make my way down the path to the Comfort Station.

After visiting the Comfort Station, I climb back into Edward and drive the loop that goes to the end of the picnic area. I read the trail signs informing me of the trail names and lengths. One trail is only .2 miles long and goes to the summit of Bluff Mountain.

I can do .4 miles. But I think I'll eat supper first. 

I drive back up from the loop and turn right onto the road that makes its way to an old lodge which has been closed since 2011. I loop the parking area, then drive back to the intersection in the picnic area and turn left. I stop at a picnic table where I've eaten before. O the majestic view...

(As I'm composing this, I'm enjoying looking up and reading about some of the history of the area.)

I am the only human in the 80-acre picnic area, which is often the case on these day trips -- one solitary human...
The trips have become like sacred journeys... 
Sometimes I feel I enter a portal where time slows down...
As I drive, I often listen to music through Sir Edwards speakers which enhances the magic of the journey... 
I often ride with my windows down blowing my tresses freely...
My eyes and heart take in the blessed scenery on these drives... 

My heart spills over with gratitude... 

After supper, I load my cooler and myself back into Sir Edward and drive to the trail I'd decided upon. Again, I park and unload, this time strapping my hip pack around my lower abdomen. It's one of my harder tasks. I have to put the pack around my low back which is supported by a lumbar brace outside my clothing. (I wear a rib belt under my clothing; it provides back support for my thoracic area.) As I hold the left and right straps with both hands, I lean my right arm up against a wall or tree or car for leverage and strength, and then I concentrate as I click the buckle. Then I pull the straps, smoothly yet awkwardly, turning the hip pack so that the pack part is in front. Yes, all this hurts. But it's not too bad; plus, I've grown used to the pain. I grab my trekking poles and lock up Sir Edward. 

It's another glorious hike...

Peaceful...

O the blessed peace...

Wide open vistas... 

Life is large... 

I make it to the summit and then hike the other direction to Overlook Shelter on Bluff Ridge Trail. I end up hiking .65 miles instead of .40. 

On my drive home, I am the only vehicle on Hwy. 18 South for about 22 miles until I get to Wilkesboro. 

This too is a regular occurrence...

The only vehicle on the road for miles and miles and miles and miles...

Miles of smiles...

  

Dining spot

Overlook Shelter, Bluff Ridge Trail

View from Overlook Shelter

Golden days of summer

Church of the Frescoes: E.H. Sloop Chapel

On July 2nd, I visited my fourth location on the North Carolina Fresco Trail -- E.H. Sloop Chapel in Crossnore at the Crossnore Children's Home and School. 

~*~

I did not want to drive through Boone, but that's the route I drove to get to Crossnore. I thought maybe since App State is out, it wouldn't be as crowded as when school is in. And it wasn't as crowded, but it was still crowded. Highway 105, a mostly-two-lane, not-to-curvy mountain road, is always busy. July 2nd was no exception. But I enjoyed getting a view of Grandfather Mountain and driving by Profile Trailhead. I have fond memories of both. 

It's a beautiful day for a drive, especially through the mountains. I arrive at Crossnore and drive onto the campus and grounds of Crossnore School. It's a pristine campus, but not in a stuffy way. It's welcoming, homey, peaceful. It feels cared for with love. 

As my manner is, my first task is to find a bathroom. (Haha... Maybe I should write a book for women, "Where to Squat.") I've learned that not all these little chapels have a public bathroom. 

I see a small building. It's bathrooms. Yay! But they are locked. I stand out in the parking area and look around searching for any bathroom-looking buildings. As I stand peering, two young boys around 10 years old show up on their bicycles. 

"Hey there... I like your bikes."

They smile. We talk a little about bike-riding, the outdoors, and mountains. They say that they like it here at Crossnore. One of the boys shares, "I used to run with my dad in the mountains. One day we ran 10 miles!"

"Wow! That's a long way!" I respond realizing his sharing may be an innocent exaggeration, but maybe not. My heart feels for both boys. I wonder what/if something had happened to the one boy's father and that's why he lives here. But I dare not ask, of course. 

I did ask something else...

"Do y'all know if there is a public bathroom in the chapel?"

"Yes!" one boy excitedly answers providing me detailed directions on how to get there. 

We say our friendly good-byes, and away they ride on their bicycles. All three of us are smiling.

I climb into Sir Edward the Explorer and drive to the parking area for the chapel. There are no humans anywhere to be seen. 

~*~

I enter the chapel through the handicapped entrance toward the back of the chapel, near the pulpit area. I turn left to make my way to the front of the chapel where the stairs are located that go down to where the bathrooms are. 

There, above the front entrance doors, I see the large fresco entitled Suffer the Little Children.

I pause momentarily taking in the breathtaking scene which includes the beauty of the chapel itself with its deeply colored wooden pews and walls, its windows, and the deep red carpet that leads from the chapel entrance to the pulpit. 

Then I follow the boy's perfect directions downstairs to the bathrooms.

After my bathroom visit, I spend probably fifteen minutes or so downstairs viewing the various paintings. I enter The Miracle of Healing room. Hanging on the wall is a painting which appears to me to be the woman who touched the border of Jesus' garment and was healed. In front of the painting is a kneeler for prayer placed on top of a small throw rug. That is all that is in the room...other than myself.

My critical mind notices the crowd around the woman isn't large, as stated in the gospels. But that's okay with me. The focus in the painting is on the healing and this woman's reaching out for it. 

The room feels sacred, holy... 

My heart feels open... 

Life feels large... 

I take in the painting and enter into it... 

I know I shouldn't touch the painting, and normally I wouldn't. But in that moment, I very lightly, deliberately, and quickly touched the hem of his garment with my index finger. 

I have touched his garment. May I too be healed...

I make my way back upstairs. Again, like with my visits to other frescoes, I am a lone human in this unique, beautiful, sacred chapel. I press the button for the narration about the fresco and how it came to be here at E.H. Sloop Chapel.  I take a seat in a front pew and enter the fresco as I listen to the recorded narration....

~*~

The Miracle of Healing

Suffer the Little Children

Suffer the Little Children

E.H. Sloop Chapel replica

E.H. Sloop Chapel 

~*~

I take a different route, avoiding Boone, for my drive back home. I end up on roads that I haven't driven in decades. The sky is that gorgeous blue with white friendly clouds. There are few vehicles on my route. These kinds of drives are a part of these fresco visits.

I stop at Brown Mountain Overlook on Hwy. 181. I lift my small cooler out of Edward and make my way to one of the picnic tables to eat my supper. Of course, I look around for a place to maybe use the green-leaves relief station. I see a path into the woods. Yay! 

I meet a family who moved to Morganton from Mexico some years back. We exchange hellos and talk about the mountains. They love this area.

I deeply experience Carolina Rolling By...  

My heart overflows with gratitude...

On July 6th, I post a short thread on Twitter about my trip...

Table Rock and Hawk's Bill

Overlooking Brown Mountain

~*~

Carolina Rolling By by Mipso ....