Bernie Slutsky

  It is grey, damp, cold and I'm walking on a trail around Wirth Lake Princey, my adorable black, furry companion, is sniffing the terrain Enjoying the adventure  Having no worries Joyously trotting from one spot to another As I am gazing at the bare trees and grey sky I am struck by a jolt of anger They voted for him Not because they are working class people who feel screwed Plenty of working class people didn't vote for him They chose him because they bow down to White power They laugh, cheer for him, and they catcall anyone that challenges their bigoted and racist universe They feel strong and intoxicated  They feel they are finally somebody and belong to something They are loyal, and dedicated and will sacrifice their bodies and souls to be in this club Because they drank the potion of White power  And it tastes victorious They are on the precipice of the highest peak Everyone else is below them And their job is to keep outsiders down  By stepping on their n...

  The email said she would like to schedule an appointment for counseling with me. She really loves my approach. She wants to work on relationship issues. I made the decision to stop seeing clients the end of April which is five months away. Why is it so hard for me to reply to this person? To tell her I can't see her. On one hand it feels like I'll be rejecting her.  On the other hand it feels like I'll be shutting myself down. And maybe that's what it is. For so long I've been answering emails and phone calls to schedule old and new clients. There were periods of time where a fair number of requests poured in. And there were times where it was pretty thin. Here it is again one more request.  But now it feels like I will be shutting the door and locking it if I tell her I can't see her. The image of turning the key, locking the door, closing shop lands in my gut. There is a sinking, finalized and empty sensation in the middle of my abdomen. It is a grief, a sad...

  The voice is in the distance but it's getting closer and closer Louder and louder It is piercing, wailing, raging It grieves It is exhausting Tired Its been beaten, dragged through the streets, lynched, shot Left for dead Forgotten Pushed aside Did you hear it yet? Is it not loud enough? Your ears are covered Maybe you see it The tears The funerals The marches The signs that demand equality The signs that demand justice The signs that demand respect The art that portrays the ones that were killed Do you feel it yet? The desperation, the fear, the anger, sorrow, rawness, hopelessness Do you feel your fear, your shame, your guilt? Is it catching up? The divide is caving in What are you going to do? When we live at another's expense Is it worth it? When White privilege is a priority Is it worth it? When we look at strangers or outsiders with righteousness in our eyes Is it worth it? When we marginalize people of color or those who have a different sexual preference than we do Is...

  "Everyone on this call has ancestors that ran from something!" He paused then said it again. "Everyone on this call has ancestors that ran from something!" His deep voice had conviction that penetrated my skin. It was like thunder from the sky that shook up my insides. The vibrations in my head flowed down my arms through my chest and into my stomach. They dropped to my legs then feet. I saw the image of my mother and her family fleeing Poland. They didn't leave Poland they escaped. To get away from oppression, violence and death. She told me about this when I was a child. I would hear more and more as I got older. It has been decades and I never welcomed the real story inside my body. It settled somewhere inside my gut, my chest, my throat.  It made itself at home on its own. The full narrative of running away from the trauma of war and oppression has been lying dormant in my being for almost seventy years. I have had a tremor in my hands ever since I can rem...

  Many seasons have toughened my skin My legs have planted and pushed off mountain trails and forest floors People have been tender to me They filled my heart They betrayed and abandoned me They used and cheated me Yet they have all loved me And I have been naive, arrogant, and righteous I have been brilliant, compassionate, and persevered I have seen numerous shades of grey and blue skies I have been mesmerized by the hues of countless sunsets and sunrises The glittering stars at night have left me in wonder This is my life lived and I see it now passing by me What is left now in this infinite space around me? My heart tells me to be whole - real - awake - alive To not sleep this season away There is a freedom deep inside that is fighting to come out And I don't want to get in its way I don't want to disappoint myself Not be complete I see the little boy inside me Who is curious and excited Who is confused about people Who is innocent Who wants to understand people and why the...

  I dove into the deep end of the pool. My ten year old body imitating an arrow taking off into the air, then falling back down into the water, arms extended, legs kicked back in a solid line, fingertips pointed, entering head and arms first, making a minimal splash. The cool water becomes my solitude and vehicle that takes me to the bottom of the pool.  My hands touch the rough cement like surface that feels like the moon. I have reached my destination. There is nowhere else to go. I am at the very bottom of the earth.  I bend my legs to make contact with the bottom of the pool just as I pull back my arms. I kick off the hard surfaced bottom of the pool to propel me all the way back up like a torpedo. My head shoots out of the water into the daylight.  I inhale the warm summer air into my lungs.  For that moment I am full of joy. My body dove into the depths of a place where I haven't been before. And then I arise. This is freedom. As I got older the water got ...

  She told me she will be Seventy in December. She was going to vote early to avoid the lines. She was concerned about voter suppression. She is originally from the south. I can't remember what state. She told me worked as a poll worker there a long time ago. She said how people who had registered would arrive at the polls to vote and their names weren't on the records. It happened a lot. And all the time. It was an injustice she had to live with. But she is still voting. I was calling people who lived in Rochester, MN, Minneapolis and outstate towards St Cloud. I talked to people who lived in rural areas and the city. Most people were anxious about the election. There was a mistrust that there would be fraud counting the ballots, that their own votes wouldn't be received, people would be denied actually voting, and other shenanigans.  I heard people's shock and disbelief that this could happen and does happen in the United States. It's like we've been unconscio...