Woke up feeling more in love with my life than usual, for no reason. No work for the next five days, warm temps in the forecast, the faint flutterings of creative ideas returning, and time for the morning rituals I love and miss when too busy working.
Post meditation and shower, I stand at my counter drinking piñon coffee blended with freshly grated turmeric, butter, and coconut oil, and listen to one bizarre news story after another; Facebook is moving in the direction of virtual reality, one labor force after another disappearing as machines/robots take over, the impending writer’s strike, Nuclear war, every story to do with our current government, and that’s just during the 8-9 o’clock broadcast.
And yet I feel optimistic, energized, and happier than I can remember feeling. Because… I’m fully in it, perhaps. Participating in my life, rather than hoping/waiting/planning/watching from afar…? Time is moving too quickly to be a spectator here, I want to jump into the gorgeous chaos of being alive on this fragile planet with all of you fellow, fragile, unique beings.
With story after story about pain, suffering, and messiness in the world, I am more and more enamored with the incredible power of beauty and community, art, good conversation, home cooked food and cocktails, service, laughter, music, rituals, sweat, stories, jokes, and just diving into the madness to get us through and remind us why we are here. Otherwise, really, what’s the point?
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