MIND IN THE BLENDER THIS MORNING

Dreams were rabbits last night, leaping about. I'd focus on one, and poof, it would be gone. Some of them woke me up. Some were interrupted by Padfoot who must have been having the same kind of dreams, because he got up several times over the night, for no apparent reason. Lisa was tossing and turning as well, but her sleep has been like that since the whole thing began. It felt like all these things from deep inside my mind were fighting for the spotlight. So much happening, everywhere, all at once. And with all this time to introspect, it seems natural that old wounds, situations that never quite resolved, dreams deferred, and so on, have begun to rise to the surface. Which I think is good. It is so easy to ignore ourselves. Well, it used to be easy to do that. Before we all got grounded for an unspecified time by a virus. Most of the old diversions just don't seem to cut the mustard any more. TV is too full of press conferences with a president void of compassion and intelligence. My phone has too many updates from too many news sites about too many people dying far too often. Zooming as much as I have been makes me never want to facetime when I don't have to. So I am left with: long walks in the wee small hours, where we connect with nature and each other. Reading books, which open my mind and pry loose thought and memory. Writing that script, or scripts. Working on puzzles and playing actual board games. Meditating. All those things I've meant to do but haven't are now being done.

And I like it. I like being in touch with myself and my feelings. Having dreams that feel like they having meaning. Writing a blog every damn day. Long daily walks with my wife. These are things I should be doing anyway. And now I am.  Not that I'm not still making mistakes, often. And boy, we can argue about pretty much anything these days. Having only one person to interact with makes them your all-in-one human, to vent at, pontificate to, and of course point out the slightest inconsistencies. It's like everything, good and bad, has been put under a microscope. Still, we are closer.

Watched more of Our Planet on Netflix last night. It's one of those nature shows, narrated by David Attenborough, with some of the most beautiful cinematography ever shot. Something about nature is so comforting right now. At least for me, which I'm sure you've picked up on if you read this blog. But this show, along with showing the wonders of nature, the majesty of the world, also shows how much of this amazing world is in danger of changing for the worse, and how in fact a lot of it has changed, in our lifetimes. And that resonates right now. We are in a global pandemic, caused by who knows what but no doubt has something to do with human beings doing things they shouldn't out of basic greed and sloth and the rest of the deadly sins. And it's madness. We live on this miracle of a planet, full of life and possibility, and magic. We need to take better care of it, and ourselves. If you decide to watch this show, and you should, be careful when you get to episode two. There is this segment about walruses who, with no more sea ice to live on, are now all crammed onto this rocky island. Thousands and thousands of them, all laying on top of each other. They fight, the look miserable, and eventually, a bunch of them die. It was brutal. Almost as depressing as watching Trump speak. Almost. But even in dire circumstances, nature is beautiful.

Wow. I am getting a bit preachy. Sorry. I don't want to do that. Just like this planet, and would love it if we could not be so foolish. Myself included.

Ok. Got a full day of teaching to do, plus writing, walking, eating, and whatever else.

Here's a song. For those of you who are having trouble linking to the song, it's The Minders doing Hooray for Tuesdays.