Hey! Where did the carpet go?

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, but sometime over the past two months of 2025 I remember the gut wrenching and unnerving feeling well. As I rolled out of bed to begin a new day, I quickly realized that the carpet that once graced my feet with warmth and stability had been pulled out and upended. Where did the carpet go?

Perhaps, like millions of other people, I should have had ample time to prepare for this moment. Just as anything in life goes, change can be swift, and it can also be unforgiving. I sat up in bed and hovered my feet over the floor. My toes searched for the certainty of carpet, but it was not there. Yet I was able to rise, albeit to an unfamiliar sensation and uncomfortable and uncertain reality.

Quickly I assessed and realized that the carpet that once provided adoring comfort was missing, but it was not completely gone. To reach solid footing once again I would need to stand and walk, perhaps a long distance and duration, across a labyrinth of sharded glass, landmines, molten lava, refuse and animal feces. Challenging and disgusting, I know.

Be this as it may, I put on my socks and shoes to protect my feet for the arduous journey across the unforgiving harsh terrain. As I got on walking, it was evident that literally overnight there were new billboards and directional signals. What was once a friendly and familiar thoroughfare now felt very foreign. Silhouettes of authentic leaders were visible but faded much like a mirage of a river flowing through Death Valley.

Feel like you're walking through Death Valley with no water or end in sight? You are not alone!

Clinging to hope, I trudged forward but dearly wanted to drink from the fountain of principled and dignified leadership. However, only droplets of nourishment have flowed from the well since the ‘rug got tugged’. How I wish that I could simply order the spicket of hope to be turned on. Somewhere, I thought, hope must be held in a huge reservoir, likely withheld from flowing naturally and freely, by a damn dam.

So, step by painful step, I walked on, thirsty and disoriented. I cautiously navigated a sea of shock and awe that would have put gas on the creative flame of writers like Edgar Allen Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, George Orwell and Ray Bradbury. But then again, in this Martian-like landscape we’ve now landed on, who needs literary context anyway? Literature isn’t a necessity for a techno-autocratic society in a foreign land. Orienting one’s feet for survival, particularly for those working at the carpet factory amid the daily tranche of dismissals, is the name of the game at this moment of change.

Rest assured however, tender feet that become scarred and swollen from marching on the embers of ignorance eventually build calluses, and an unrelenting inner toughness. With grit and common sense for the common good, people will choose to rise and move forward to create shared prosperity that is, much like the American foundation of democracy that most are familiar with, interwoven to be measured, trusted, and universally accepted.

Let’s face it. The house needed sprucing up. Occasionally, it pays to pull the carpets, dust and clean, refresh and beautify the space. So, with callused feet and a sense of design like no other, let’s get on with it already. Time to remodel so that we can put a newer, more stylish, durable and dependable carpet back in place as soon as possible.

Democracy and prosperity are never guaranteed, they require persistent and pragmatic action by citizens and elected officials working together.