Intention Matters

Hello friends,

I had a different post planned for today—its a true ghost story that you’ll get next week instead—but something happened yesterday that felt important.

First bit of context: I got the flu/Covid vaxxes on Thursday. That knocked my out quite a bit yesterday. I would work for an hour, rest for two hours, work for an hour, rest for an hour… You get the picture.

But an action was called to protest outside Boeing corporation in a town on the edge of Portland Oregon yesterday.

Second bit of context: I’ve been protesting outside war profiteers off and on for decades, since I was sixteen years old. Lockheed Martin, Bechtel Corporation, the Lawrence Livermore Labs, the Nevada Nuclear Test Site.

See, I have issues with people who make huge profits from the suffering of ordinary folks just trying to live their lives, make art, go to work, raise children, fall in love…

So a protest outside Boeing seemed worth making an effort for, even if I should have gone back to bed.

I took a ride share out to the far eastern end of Portland, where it meets the town of Gresham. Got to the big main entrance of the massive, fenced in compound. Saw the Bechtel sign. No one was there, except for a police car and van half a block down the busy four lane road.

So I sat. Waited. Over time, an handful of people drove up, asking about the action. “No one is here,” I said. “I don’t know what’s happening.” There have been a rash of protests this past week. Maybe everyone was tired? The people would drive off, intending to look for parking in this industrial part of town. They never came back.

I hung some of my placards to the large, corporate sign, tucking them in a metal lip beneath the big swoop of BOEING. They were signs with red handprints on them, asking how much death is enough?

Finally, a few others walked up. We conferred. We decided it wasn’t safe to be out there with only five of us, and we left.

For me, the fruits of that action could have been disappointment. I could have felt frustrated or angry at making all that effort when I could’ve gone back to bed. But I wasn’t. It felt right to hang my signs—Boeing Profits from Death—and bear witness, even if only briefly. I allowed the small action coupled with my intention to be the things that mattered.

Now, intentions are not enough. Action is needed. But we also don’t know what fruit our smallest actions might grow over time.

Wishing us all some measure of peace and another measure of justice.

be well — Thorn

I’m posting this slightly early today to remind paid subscribers that our monthly Sprint With Me Saturday is this morning, 9:30am pacific!

This is also a reminder that there are only twelve more days to get my brand new magical meditation book and companion oracle deck! You Are the Spell