Welcome to The Stick

This post was originally published on April 24, 2025.

The black hole news draws me deep into my lizard brain, unable to feel anything other than helpless, hopeless anger. This is not terribly constructive.

I once held delusions of being the lone voice on the windy corner, standing my ground against the purveyors of trash to calmly, rationally, factually demand they do better. And in those fantasies, of course, everyone listened and I saved humanity. 

I knew I needed to do something. I wrote letters to Congress but the response disappointed me. I shared my letters online to let others copy and send to their representatives, but that got mixed reactions. I’ve gone to City Council to express my concerns with a polite (if chilly) reception. 

I’ve been tempted to rage against everything on my socials for the sugar rush of feeling like I did something (followed by the inevitable crash when it only reached 12 people, got 4 reactions, and wasted electrons). None of that works. The world does not need another man shaking his fist at the sky.

A Nudge

But things tend to float into our consciousness right when we need them. Recently, an old friend, Michael Sperger, launched a newsletter, Build Notes, as his passion project. Build Notes is inspiring and thought provoking, and though I may not know his exact motivation, it seems to me that Michael found a constructive way to address our current situation: to connect people who might otherwise be alone. He has a vision to build a better world through stronger communities and with his newsletter he offers to bring us along.

I admire his vision, but I look inside my own head and wonder. I am angry, vulgar, sarcastic, and at times embarrassingly goofy. I am an Olympic introvert who has sailed through communities without building any. I had good friends who have come and gone even as we all have the tools to stay connected. 

And I have problems. I spent nearly 30 years engaged in a quest for self-improvement and spiritual growth that started off as giant-ego-disguised-as-practice and ended up with me stripped down to the bones, humbled and humiliated. But in all that imperfection I think I can still help. I want to help. 

Perspective

Things are scary right now. I am afraid for our right to speak out. Our right to a fair trial. Our right to be seen, heard, and recognized for who we are, out in the open. I fear how our representatives willingly transfer our collective power to the hands of the few who already have too much. I am afraid that this fear itself drives us to shelter, to look out for our own safety because we feel we are alone. 

But we are not alone. 

History has some lessons for us. The excesses and abuses of the last Gilded Age in the United States, around 1880, gave rise to a golden age of civic engagement in the Progressive Era, circa 1920. The post-war social conformity of the 1950s gave rise to the civil rights action of the 1960s. So, it stands to reason that the transfer of our wealth and power that began in the 1980s (and continues to this day) will give rise to something else. But what?

If that “something else” has any hope of being better than what we have now, then we all need to have our hands in shaping what that “something” is. People have done this before, and we can do it now. But if you’re anything like me you have no idea where to start. 

The Stick

This blog – The Stick – is my attempt to take one step in the right direction. I hope to explore what we’re afraid of. To find ways to turn our collective fear into collective action. To determine what we could do right now for a better future. And maybe even find out how we might help that person who just left a comment down there at the bottom of the page.

The Stick will document my attempts at civic engagement. It will have stories of success and failure, and (maybe dubious) advice for how to survive troubling times. It will offer support, even if that’s in the form of a good poem or a great song, or a story just for a laugh, a moment to forget the crazy. It can offer a smile or a handshake, or a side-eye if warranted. There will be anger and peace, beauty and horror, opposition and support. Questions, answers, and guesses.

The Stick is my take on what it's like to be a person doing their level best in this baffling, jacked up, beautiful world.

I should also note that I am not the only author of this blog. There are other authors – well, characters – who represent the different aspects of my personality or history. Sometimes it's best if they tell the story since they lived it (slightly or considerably modified to protect the innocent and add spice). 

So why The Stick? This blog is any or all of:

• A walking stick for support along the road.
• A lantern stick, a way to find and a way to be found.
• Encouragement to stick together or stick with it.
• A way to measure progress, like “moving the sticks” in football.
• A yardstick, to measure how far we have come, and how far we have left to go.
• A talking stick; a way to give voice to different sides to understand the whole picture – even  if the different sides exist within you.

One Small Step

This blog is for anyone who feels alone or afraid. It’s for anyone who struggles to understand the world. For anyone who seeks support while they try in some way to make their small corner a little better. 

I hope someone who reads this will learn some skills to help them be more resilient. I hope someone learns that all of us struggle, and that this, too, shall pass. I hope these stories resonate with you, and maybe even motivate or inspire you. Most importantly, I hope in reading this you always know at least one other person (right here) is with you. 

I'm not the main character in this drama, nor am I the leader of the resistance. I am only this small person, one tiny drop in the ocean. But I am one drop in a rising tide; one drop joined with so many others, surging with relentless purpose until we see our collective energy move mountains.