The secrets every last one of the characters carries are all starting to dribble out, with horrifying consequences. Everyone’s true nature is being revealed.

Freedom in Broad Daylight

I’ve been watching a fairly new show on Amazon called POWER.

You have to know that I don’t watch TV. Not EVER. So it’s pretty near miraculous that I even heard of this show, much less deigned to view it — much less all nine episodes so far!

It’s an excellent show.

The premise, as I have shared before both here on medium and on my blog (angelatreatlyon.com/the-real-power), is that girls are getting a bizarre awakening of power: they can shoot electricity through their hands.

Soft little arcs of pretty zingy light jumping from one finger to the next, or electric power increased to the point of electrocuting someone.

You can imagine how the patriarchy is reacting.

From a few supportive men who think it’s exciting that women don’t have to fear men anymore, to the complete other extreme where all these girls are condemned to various hideous torture and confinement, or even extermination, by men in positions of power.

Men who recognize that their reigns of fear and control of women are over. Done. Disappearing faster than they can imagine.

The leading lady, Mayor of Seattle, Margot, sees the implications of this new power, and does her best to support the new movement towards freedom of choice for women, often to her own great embarrassment, and dire threats from political enemies.


At the end of segment 9, everything and everyone is in an uproar.

Margot has decided to leave the age-old women’s shrug-shoulders-and-stay-invisible-in-order-to-be-safe stance, and take direct action to outright compete against a dangerous long-time rival.

The secrets every last one of the characters carries are all starting to dribble out, with horrifying consequences. Everyone’s true nature is being revealed.


Her husband gets embroiled in sneaky tactics, leaked gov info, seduction, and the terrible behind the scenes upsets and conflicts within his family.

At the beginning of the show, he comes across as the Loving, Kind, Good Guy. He turns out, in this last episode, to be a wuss. At the most critical time when she needs his support in her new endeavor, he backs off and declares to Margot, “I didn’t sign up for this.”

Well guy? Ya married her.

Your vows say ‘for better or for worse.’

You did sign up for it, even if she decides to slide from the North Pole to the South skiiing on noodles.

So — no going out on her, messing with other more attractive (poisonous journalist) women. No betraying your wife.

You get to choose — will you betray the woman you love(d), or will you allow the small ugly weeny part of you to prevail — the one that whines and moans about troubles … leaking vital info to the Other Woman as you relax into her supposedly comforting arms.


Of course, this IS a show — perhaps he will go out on his wife and get found out, and she will be humiliated and lose her bid for the position she is seeking. Margot’s desire to ‘do good’ foiled under the heavy repercussions of the transgressions of others close to her.

Or maybe at the last moment he’ll realize the momentous mistake he’s about to make and return to the nest, lessons of humility, perseverance and loyalty learned.

I’m rooting for him — at heart he’s a good guy. Cross fingers!

The show is very well-written, so we’ll see how creative they get.

It’s a good discussion — you want to do good, so you take a position, and suddenly your entire life is on show to everyone — can your history stand being displayed to every last man, woman, and child on earth? Can your integrity hold out despite threats and temptations?

Being a politician, as far as I can see, means giving up your whole life to the public! No thanks.


But my point is, how many times have we heard people say they ‘didn’t sign up for this’ … whatever it was?

But you did!

You’re here.

In this physical body.

On this planet.

You did sign up for being here.

Sometimes it looks like there is no way out of sticky or horrible situations.

Sometimes there are ways out, but every one of them sucks.

Sometimes a couple of the choices look good, so you take one, only to find that you should-oughta have taken the other one.

And sometimes things work out the way you’d like.

But ‘good’ outcomes aren’t guaranteed. Like comfort. Ease. Happiness. Prosperity. Success.

So sorry.


Here’s what I think. Life is an adventure.

You get to treat it like one and be in a state of curiosity, awe, and creativity, or you can treat life like a continual, unstoppable, unrelenting, horrible painful shit-show, in which you are the poor-poor victim.

You get to choose.

I’ve had so many too-close adventures that I’ve lost count of them. If I’d continued putting all my cards on the I’m-a-victim, I’m-choosing-suicide table, I’d have been gone 20 years ago.

I GET to choose.

You GET to choose.

Listen to what I’m saying!

I’m not saying all this because I’m a young cheery bippy guru know-it-all who wants to sell you a multi-thousand-dollar get-enlightened-in-a-month online course.

I’m old. I have close to 80 years of experience and understanding — derived from sometimes fun and sometimes death-defying situations. I Know Things. So I’m not just passing gas up my sleeve here.

So I say this with as much seriosity as I can muster:

It’s not that we have to choose!

It’s that we have the amazing honor, the unbelievable privilege! — to choose.

Maybe we don’t choose the circumstance — because we might be irreparably stuck in something — but we get to choose how we think and feel about it.

I’m thinking of a man who was stuck in the most unbelievable slavery for six long years, who yet is the most loving, kind, wise being, ever.

I’m thinking of Karens and complainers and whiners and people who feel so entitled they run all over anyone.

They all choose.


One of my heroes is Steven Hawking. I seriously believe that if I had been in his position I’d have asked someone to off me.

He was virtually unable to do one single thing for himself. He even had to speak through a computer. Shoot me! My god!

How he bore all those years paralyzed and weak and ill — and I complain because I have a non-stop hip pain. Ooooh, poor Angela! Not.

I GET to choose to use a walker. Who cares how I walk — I can walk!
I GET to choose to put my attention on stuff I love.
I GET to choose to live my life how I want it, despite the pain.

And that’s what Hawking did, even as he suffered the most incredibly challenging of circumstances.

So yeah, you did sign up to be here,
to go through good, bad, ugly,
beautiful and amazing experiences.

And if you uttered those vows when you got married, you DID sign up for the shit — right along with the shine.


Oh, I’m far from the Perfect Good Little Human — I, too, fall into poor-me. I spent 35 years with no-one-loves me, I’m-not-good-enough, poor-poor-me, I’m-gonna-do-myself-in thinking as my primary inner dialogue — I know all about That Dark Place.

So when the Dark starts to creep into my thinking, I have to remind myself to man up — or — woman up! — and stop whining. Remember the Artist at my Core.

Because I get to remember that I GET to choose.

I create my experience of life.

I decide.

I do it — I make my world reflect my inner being, to the best of my ability.

Assess, rinse, repeat.

Even if I fail, I GET to keep trying, until my body dissolves back into ashes.

We all GET to choose to make our minds and our lives as beautiful and unique and wonderful as we can, whether we are totally healthy and well-off, or down-in-the-ditches-poor and homeless and wasted and ill.

Ain’t we lucky!



I have only one gripe about the show — Margot is not your usual blond bunny type — thank goodness! But they make her look like a sad droopy-faced horse with make up.

Mayor of Seattle, Margot, in POWER (© Amazon Services)

Her long, very thin (fake) hair hangs down to the side of her face like she’s trying to imitate some 20-something influencer.

It’s confusing, because on the one hand, Margot looks like she’s trying her hardest to look young and perky, but the styling gives her a hang-dog look, which is inimical to the part of a powerful woman mayor.

Oh — and whoever makes up her eyes with this latest fad of lining both upper and lower lids with heavy black — that makes her eyes look like two deep holes on a bleached white mask — should be fired.

Blonds oughta wear brown mascara, not black, and only on the upper, not lower, lids.

Many will argue with me, but if you want to look like Cary Bradshaw’s masked Phantom of the Opera ghost, go for it. It looks ridiculous.

Ah well. If those are the only criticisms, that’s pretty amazing.

What’s more important is the power. In all its forms.


Now, I invite you to go find that show and watch it.

In a world driven by a patriarchal mindset, it’s a fantastic illustration of women keeping on keeping on in our journey as humans to a lighter, more enlightened state.

So keep on keeping on, no matter what.


Thanks so much for reading my story. I hope it lit you up. Or maybe it inspired you, or made you curious, or gave you a new perspective with which to view and appreciate your own life. Or maybe take on a new exciting scary fun adventure! That’s my wish.



Image: Freedom in Broad Daylight
image © Angela Treat Lyon 2010
text © Angela Treat Lyon 2023

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