HATERS GOTTA GET OVER WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES THEM HATE

I am thinking of anger and resentment today. How it can warp our perspective, drive us mad, create monsters in the gardens. It is a strange, sad thing we all do, to various degrees. And worse, once we go down that primrose path, we try to reimagine the past, the events, reality, to create a different narrative, where we are totally in the right, and it was everyone else who was wrong. They are the monsters!

They!

Oh those nasty, horrible, wrong folks. 

I suppose, if blaming others and going over wrongs both real and imagined helped me, made me happier in life and a more productive human being who had more friends, happier times, and all that, I would spend as much time as possible figuring out how the rest of the world screwed me over. 

But I have never found that to be of use. I have had plenty of people in my life do unkind things. Usually this was due to something messed up in their lives, or maybe something I had no idea was going on. Sometimes, no doubt, they were just being shitty. 

What to do?

I mean after removing oneself from source of pain. If someone is punching me in the face, I either punch back, run away, or call the cops.  Then I vent. I try my  best to express my rage and sorrow, because that can be oh so toxic when left inside to simmer and steep.

But I mean after that. After the fight, what does one do with all the hurt and anger and hard feelings?

I had a few years in high school where I was what is generally called a born-again Christian. I was at a place where I was carrying a lot of anger, a lot of sorrow, and a huge need to fix that. And the idea of forgiveness and acceptance was something I needed. Now, I didn't and don't believe in Hell, or organized religion, so that didn't last. 

But the idea of letting things go; of moving forward, stuck. 

It's a little selfish, actually, to forgive. Because ultimately, it is for me that I do it. Forgiving lets  me move on. It's hard, and takes introspection, meditation, and honesty. And it's not like you forgive, and poof, all is well. The hurt still exists, and often whatever was done still has to be dealt with. And actions sometimes are required to ensure the same thing doesn't happen again and again.

I think a lot of people assume that forgiving someone means you are condoning whatever they do. 

And that is not the case.

Not with me.

There are people in my life who have done some truly awful things. Petty things. Stupid things.

Some of those things are easy to get over. Others are more difficult. 

Even worse, there have been times when how I perceive reality differs greatly with others, and so moving past things is basically impossible.

But I have to move on. 

And that's just in my own life, my little circle. 

On a national and global scale, there are all sorts of transgressions going on. Climate change comes to mind. I mean, there are people out there who know better, but due to greed and some defect in their soul, even though they know they are destroying our planet, continue defiling this delicate world. 

I wonder if they believe the lies they tell about it? I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe they sort of know they are in the wrong, but do their best to think they are fine, upstanding people. 

I have to forgive them as well. We need to stop them, and save the planet, and maybe throw them in jail. 

But we don't need to fill ourselves with anger and resentment while we do it. 

We can just save the planet, and live our lives as best we can. 

It's hard. There's some truly nasty shit out there. People I think are insane, selfish, stupid, and/or horrible.

Maybe I'm saying this poorly. Maybe I am full of shit myself.

All I know for sure is that when I focus on the positive; when I try to get over things that have happened to me that are not so nice; when I try to love more and hate less, life gets better.

Every time.

So that's my Monday sermon. 

Enjoy. 

Here's a groovy song. It's Foot Stompin' Music by Grand Funk Railroad. 

 

LET THEM DIRECT CHILDREN'S THEATRE

Writing earlier today. Still wiping the sleep out of my eyes, shaking the cobwebs out of my brain, and looking for solace in a cup of coffee. Well, a cup of espresso as I wait for the water to boil. 

I saw several headlines about inflation yesterday, and how we are all supposed to be angry at someone. about it. Biden. The GOP. Putin.

Now, I do think Putin is a horrible person, and the GOP has really become a strange party that either is run by a bunch of feckless liars, or is crazy and actually believes a lot of bizarre notions. Global warming is fake. Trump won. The world is flat. Ted Cruz.

All sorts of crazy shit.

But I don't blame inflation on any of those folks. And I am not really furious about it. Yeah, I pay bills, and gas prices are up, and groceries cost more. They do. But it always feels to me like the market, that mysterious Market that runs the world, is to blame. And who or what is the market? A small group of aliens living in the middle of Iowa? The Illuminati? I don't think so.

I think the Market is just a bunch of greedy, out of touch people who don't really enjoy living all that much and so try to run the world via corporations. People who, like Grand Moff Tarkin, try to grasp theirs hands around the world, but the tighter they try to hold it, the more of it slips through their fingers.

They are the kind of people who want to control everything. And since they are these sad, lonely, out of touch types, they don't really do anything all that helpful for the planet that often. 

It sure seems that way to me.   

I think, for the betterment of the world, every CEO and world leader, every millionaire and senator and member of parliament, every dictator and royal, should have to direct a children's theatre play. One with like thirty cast members, and one assistant. And they can't use any of their money to hire more people or have someone else actually direct it and then take the credit for it. They have to get down in the trenches and work with the little actors. They have to figure out how to make them memorize lines, go where they are supposed to go in a scene, make each of them feel respected and a part of the show. And a to no peek out from the curtains to make sure their parents are in the audience. 

The main problem with this plan is that a lot of them would probably turn out to be horrible at it, and spend the whole time yelling, trying to get the cast to behave itself. Direction by screaming. I've seen it. I've done it once or twice, but it never works. 

Still, it would be a good start. An attempt to humanize the powers that be. 

Maybe they just need to find love for their fellow human beings, and for themselves. 

I don't think, if someone truly felt love, they would engage in price gouging. Or bomb hospitals. Or storm the Capitol. 

Man, I am such a hippie. 

Maybe, instead of directing a kid's show, they should have to write a blog, every day, first thing.

Yeah. 

Here's today's song. It's Stone Cold Crazy by Queen. 

THANKS, I NEEDED THAT

I think we all needed yesterday. I didn't realize how badly I needed to cry and laugh and cry some more. To hug my wife with joy. To dance in front of the TV. To cry yet again. To hear Amanda Gorman and see a star land on Earth. The whole thing, the inauguration, lifted up the nation, I think. It lifted up the world. Somehow, we dodged a bullet, and got through the last four years. 

Well, not somehow. We worked our asses off. We marched. We called our senators and representatives, over and over. We watched far too much MSNBC and CNN. We got into it on Facebook with our relatives and friends who bought into the Trump mythos. We took back the house in 2018. We kept on trying. 

And when the Pandemic came, we rose to the occasion as best we could, redoubled our efforts to change the minds of our friends who somehow bought into conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory. We read opinion pieces all the way through. We wore masks. We howled nightly. 

We did what we had to do. 

And we found strength we didn't know we had. Resolve hiding beneath our shockingly thin veneer. Some of us smoked a lot of weed. Or drank a lot of booze. Or wrote in a blog every damn day for months on end. We gave money to campaigns for the first time in our lives. And then gave more. We wrote postcards. We did whatever we had to do to make sure we could have a different President.

And we got the job done.

Yeah, we still have plenty of relatives and friends who think differently.

But not as many as we did before January 6. 

I think that sort of woke up some of them. How could it not? Still, far too many out there still buy the Big Lie. Still think the election was stolen from them. And we need to fix that.

But yesterday, for a brief moment, we were allowed to rejoice. To dance in the streets. To explode with glee like giddy children at fireworks over our nation's capitol. To say to ourselves "damn, that Katy Perry song is pretty awesome!" without a hint of irony. 

I want to feel like that more often. I want to be proud of humanity on a regular basis. I want to be lifted up, and I want to lift up others. I want to sing all day, and recite poetry, and dance.

I think we will need to keep our new found habits of staying involved. Of not letting a lie from a friend go without challenging it, in as respectful and courteous a way possible. 

We still have this pandemic. And global warming. And systemic racism. And income inequality. 

But we have the power to change this world. And don't ever let anyone tell you different. Those that say otherwise are usually either hoping to shut down said change, or they've given up and are ashamed of themselves, and rather than face that shame, they try to pull you down to their level.

Hell with that. 

We rise up. We sing. We marvel at music and kindness and love and unity and poetry. 

The toxins are leaving our souls. We are healing, and will continue to heal. 

And it will get better. I have no illusions there will be hard times ahead. And sorrow, and grief, and anger. I am certain I will write more entries about how fucked up the world can be, about how shallow and nasty people can be. How disappointing life can get. I have had enough hard times to know that. But they will pass. It all passes, eventually. 

Except love.

It is love that endures. 

I know it. I feel it in my bones. I think yesterday, we all felt it.

Here's a song. It's Katy Perry's Fireworks. 

LOVE AND POSSIBILITY

It's MLK day, and I'm home, contemplating the world, the nation, and life in general. I think about Doctor King, who to me is one of the great spiritual leaders in recent history, full of kindness, love, thoughtfulness, and strength. Qualities to aspire to, and to seek for in others, particularly our leaders in the here and now. I love it that we will soon have a senator who is the pastor at the church where MLK was once the pastor. There's a symmetry to that, a circle of life kind of feel, like it was meant to be in some way. And that gives me hope.

I'm a bit of a agnostic mystic, a believer in the unknown powers behind the veil, a seeker of truth. I see messages in history, logic in nature, and a sense of the eternal in my fellow human beings from time to time, usually when they are laughing or loving or making music or art.

Today, I start another round of daily blog entries. I did them at the beginning of this new era, and it helped me process what was happening. It also got my writing brain in shape. And in general, it made me feel good. Whenever I write on a consistent basis, I feel happier, more in tune with myself and the world, better prepared to face the day, and always more productive.

In the first batch of daily blog entries, I wrote several drafts of a new screenplay. From scratch. And I think it's pretty damn good.

Who knows what will come of  this round? 

So, I was thinking this morning how there is no going back to the way things were before. I think that is always true, in any time, but somehow I think we are all hoping that just this once we can have that be possible. Have it be that we can wake up and realize this was all just a very long, complicated dream, and that there was no global pandemic, that there was no sacking of the Capitol, that the entire way we view ourselves and our world didn't really change forever and ever amen. 

But such is not the case. We live in constant flux. Always have, always will. And that's a good thing, I believe. I have had times in my life that have been rough, and times that have been shockingly wonderful. But they all move along, blend together, become something else.

I think embracing change is necessary to live properly. Because, regardless of what we desire, change is relentless. 

So, embrace the change. Dance with it. Ride it like a wave, and see where it takes you.

Today, it's taking me to the Botanic Gardens, and maybe Indian food, and into a screenplay, a series outline, and a musical. 

And today, I hope it also leads me to love and acceptance and change of a positive nature, in the spirit of MLK. He lived in rough times. He dealt with way more than I have had to deal with. And yet, he exuded love and possibility. 

Here's a song. It's Sam Cooke singing Jesus Gave Me Water.

NEXT YEAR, THIS YEAR, LOVE IS WHAT WE NEED

And on we go. It's that weird limbo time between Christmas and New Year's, when we all think about the year that has been and speculate on the year that will be. It's never quite the same, and I note that there are no really great films about this time. Plenty of holiday films, not a lot of late December thinking about the specific year that just passed and trying to prognosticate movies. Maybe there are, and I just can't think of them due to the fog that has clouded our collective mind since the virus kicked into high gear and changed the world forever. And ever. 

So here I go, mulling over 2020 and pondering 2021.

In obvious ways, 2020 sucked balls.

I think we all know that, so I won't dwell too much on how awful the pandemic has been, how shocking the murder of George Floyd was, how worrying the economy has been, and how insane our would be dictator has proven himself to be in the events before and after the election.

That's pretty clear. 

There were some positives in the year. Some in spite of events, some because of them. So here are a few things that have made this year bearable, and my life better.

My wife and I have started taking an hour walk every day. Very awesome. We get up early, roam the neighborhood, and usually leave our phones at home. It seems like such a simple act, taking a walk with no distractions. But it is something I haven't done on a consistent basis since I bought my first cell phone long ago in another world. I find the walks make me feel present. Alive. And happy. We greet strangers, notice gardens and decorations and birds. It makes getting up early a joy. I recommend it. 

I've written in this blog more than any other year. For a long stretch of time, I wrote every day. And it's been fantastic. Not the content. Some of what I've written has been nothing much more than stream of consciousness blather. But even blather has merit, has a function. I've always thought that unexpressed thoughts fester in your mind, turn toxic, go rogue. By letting them out, I feel healthier. Happier. more connected to myself and the world. I've also gotten reconnected to old friends through this blog, which has been so nice. And I've exercised my writing muscles. I think you have to write often if you want to write well. 

I wrote a complete screenplay, based on my childhood, which I a quite proud of. It's working title is The Belvedere Jungle, and I think it has legs, as they say. Legs, arms- a whole body. And soul. So hurrah. I also wrote a one act, and have been working on a book for a musical. The Shut Down opened up my writing, both of stories and blogs, and for that, I am grateful. 

I've come to appreciate time spent in person with friends and family. Not that I didn't before. But it's different. After not being able to sit together whenever we want, the rare times we do get to be in the same room with people has a magic to it, an almost sacred feel. And I long for hugs. But even without the hugs, seeing people in person is something I hope I never take for granted again. 

I've taken up cooking. Mostly on the Instant Pot. I bought Lisa one last year, and it has sat on the shelf for the most part. So I decided to start cooking meals for us with it, so that the gift would still give her something. Chili, Mac-and-Cheese with smoke bacon, a Dixie Roast have been some of the things I've made, and for the most part, they've rocked. From the Instant Pot, I've expanded my repetoire to the actual oven and stove. Not everything has turned out well, but I've enjoyed the journey. 

I've called old friends I haven't called in a while. And that has fed my soul. Old friends are the best, because they get you. They speak the same language, share some of your history. Remind you of who you are. 

And I've listened to a lot of music. Of all types. Modern, classical, jazz. I don't really care what genre it is, if something rocks my world, that's that. 

There's been many other good things in this past year of hard times, miracles large and small, unexpected joys and magical moments, but it's almost time to take our walk.

As for next year, I have so many hopes and dreams. I hope we all get vaccinated. I hope we take better care of ourselves and the world we are so lucky to live in. I hope for so much for all of us. 

I love you all.

Here's a song. It's Next Year by Foo Fighters. Enjoy.

I CAN HOLD YOUR HAND

Long ago, in another universe before now, I was a young man earning my degree in theatre at San Jose State University. I had this crazy teacher. He was "experimental", came from LA, and everyone sort of thought of him as nuts. He directed a show, taught acting classes, and also voice and diction, one of the basic classes you took in your first year as a theatre student. And that's where he taught me. In class, we'd have all sorts of long discussions about politics, mysticism, life, death, and on rare occasions, voice and diction. One day, he announced that there was going to be a speaker on campus, a concentration camp survivor, and we were all to go see his speech. So off I went.

The man' speech was life changing. He spoke with a gravity that could not be denied. He had been through things most of us will never be able to fully understand. I expected him to be full of sorrow and rage. But when he spoke, even when he was telling stories of his experiences in the camp, the main power that came out of him was love. I call it a power because that is how it felt. Like a wave of energy emanating from him, a burst of this overpowering emotion, a joy in life and a mercy for those who can't find that joy. As he spoke, I felt embarrassed about my ease of life compared to his. I felt shame for humanity for what we are capable of inflicting to one another. I felt guilt.

After the speech, I approached him to thank him for his speech. He shook my hand and smiled, and I asked me my name. We spoke briefly, and I told him how I felt guilty when I listened to him. He asked me why. I told him that it wasn't fair that this had happened to him, and not to me. That I had lived a life of privilege. He nodded his head, considering what I had said. And then he said to me, "I have never been raped. I will never know what it is to be a woman who has been raped. But I still can hold her hand."

A lot of hands need holding in the world.

Here's a song. It's You Don't Know How It Feels by Tom Petty.

THE CONVERSATION MUST CHANGE

I think I need to change what I do when having conversations with people about the world today. And when I say the world today, I am of course talking about the global pandemic, the looming economic depression, the mass protests, and whatever happens next. I have said, and heard others say, including Bill Maher on his show last night, that if aliens landed tomorrow, it would not be a surprise, but the logical next thing to happen. We were in a neighbor's backyard last night, having a socially distance meal, talking about the world. And for a lot of the time, we all just stated our thoughts, distilled from what we have seen on TV and read online either on news websites, or on social media. Rarely did we speak of what we are seeing ourselves. Which is funny, because those were the best parts of the night, the times when I was learning new things, hearing new perspectives, and evolving as a human being. 

So I am going to try to ask more questions, listen to other people, and pontificate less. Of course, I am sure I will fail at this from time to time. But I really think we are all talking at each other far too much as opposed to talking with each other. So much more fulfilling and interesting and fun. For instance, the next time someone tells me George Soros is behind it all, I'm going to ask them to explain what they mean, and not just roll my eyes and walk away. The next time someone tells me All Live Matter, I'm going to ask them what they mean and how/if they negates the fact that Black Lives Matter. I've gone on at length about the world enough of late. Time for someone else to fill the void with their insights, jokes, and monologues. I will of course still blather. Of that I am sure. I just want and need to hear the voices of other people. 

I wish we had more people in charge who felt the same. 

Do you know what I mean?

Here's a song. It's The Music Must Change by The Who

WHAT NOW?

I woke up early, which is the norm of late. Around six each morning, I just wake up. It was the time my alarm would go off in the time before Covid. Maybe my body is in denial, and thinks if I just get up at the same time, things will go back to how they were before. Like "before" was some perfect place where we all got along, money wasn't an issue, and everyone had perfect health. I know that's not so, but it is tempting to think so. The past is always a bit rosy, isn't it? This morning, I feel a strange emptiness, a sense of "I have no idea what will happen next". And I think that is a good thing. Most times, when I think I know what's going to happen, I get kicked in the head. So maybe not knowing is the ideal, the place to strive for. If it is, mission accomplished. I've made it. If not...

I realized this morning that I haven't been reading as much as I like. I listen to tons of music, have written a full draft of a new screenplay, meditated, taken long walks each morning, and done this blog every day since the shut down began. But I haven't been reading enough. And I am not sure why. I have a stack of books on my dresser waiting or me. The stack isn't new. I always have a stack of books to read. Short stories, non-fiction, and novels. Maybe a graphic novel here and there, a book of poetry. I have read some poems during all this, but not as much of those either. I am going to try and change that. I have always found comfort in books. Not just the joy of going to some other land or time, which is certainly there. But also hearing how someone else has experienced the world. How they see things, as expressed through the stories they tell. I need that. Why haven't I gone there? I like to think I am finding things in myself and the world I missed before all this. Appreciating life more, reflecting more and all that. I say hi to more strangers as we walk. I have called a ton of people I haven't called in forever. I take more time to notice nature. And yet, I feel a gnawing sense of missing something. Of there being something I am supposed to be doing that I am not doing. Should I be marching? Should I be writing even more?

Or is this just a bit of ennui, a slight touch of anxiety brought on the life? Am I just tired because we stayed up later than normal? Probably I am reading too much into this feeling. But it's there, and so I ponder.

Wait. I know what it is. I just finished the screenplay. Whenever I finish a script, or a show, I find my self having a bit of the blues. There is a great feeling of purpose when doing a large artistic undertaking. You lean in, all your thoughts, when not doing the daily routine things like cleaning house, cooking food, and paying bills, goes into the work. It's a struggle, and at times frustrating. But it also gives you focus. A goal. And then, in an instant, the work is done. And this great emptiness appears. And it really doesn't go away until the next project.

So. On to the next project. Read more. Continue to call more folks I have been meaning to. Lean into this life. Stay involved. Active. Open to what comes down the pike. No shortage of things to do. The whole world needs help, doesn't it? So help. Write. March. Read. Sing. Love.


Here's a song.  I don't know why, but it popped into my head. It's Leave It by Yes.

WHY WE FIGHT

Trying to focus on humanity this morning. The good things. Why we fight kind of things. I find it important to do this, not from time to time but from day to day. We have so many gifts, all of us, and somehow, we find ourselves unable to enjoy them. Sometimes, it's because of economics. When you are two, three, four months behind on your bills, it's hard to wake up an extra hour early and say "time to read poetry out loud while facing the east. Other times, after hearing sirens go off and on throughout a night when there is a curfew in your city for the first time that you can remember, raising your hand to the sky in joy seems odd and too close to being arrested to make that seem like a viable option. Or if you are exhausted from all the social distancing, the worrying about your older friend who isn't wearing a mask anymore because they think it's all over, those worries can invade your mind while you try to meditate. But even so, you have to try. I do, any way. I find that times of strife, of sorrow and hardship, are when art and reflection are most needed, most helpful to a troubled soul. We I am troubled. I think we all are. Even the folks with what look like slightly forced smiles plastered on their faces as they sit outside in restaurants for the first time in months look troubled. These are the times we need to listen to a song straight through without checking our phone once during the song. When we need to open a book a poetry, flip to a random page, and read whatever we come upon out loud to ourselves and whomever is nearby, even if it's just a houseplant. When we should take a walk, with no phone on our person, and not think about turning back until we have found a flower, a tree, and a body of water. We have to, for our sanity. For our survival.

Some might say that right now is not the time for that. That we have bigger fish to fry, larger problems to solve. And that's cool.  I understand that line of thought. I just disagree with it. If we have things to do, we need to be healthy and composed. Centered. Clear on our priorities. And I don't think Tiger King bingeing alone will do the trick. Or eating a lot of fast food. Or drinking oneself to sleep, or getting high, or whatever else you use to escape. Not that we don't need escape. We do. Clearly. We are quite good at that aspect of self care. But we need to have balance with that. We need to stop and take note of where we are, how we are feeling, and why we are feeling that way. Don't we? I do. I have found, from the beginning of this pandemic, that I am best able to function when I do more with my time that just trying to recreate the world before Covid and bemoaning my fate. Don't get me wrong. I bemoan a lot. I find it easy to do. Why has this happened? When will I be able to go to a movie or concert or sports event again? When can I hug my neighbors and friends? What's going to happen? On and on. I'm not saying don't freak out. I'm saying, find time to breathe. To revel in the fact that your are alive. That you can have emotions and thoughts. That you are a human being. Yes, we can be a foolish species, and are capable of the worst things imaginable. But we are also able to create music. To sing. To dance. To dream. Remember that as you watch the news. When you stand in line, six feet from the person in front of you. When you go through the mail and get that "past due" letter. To paraphrase Thornton Wilder, you are a human being, not a chair. The fact that you exist is a miracle.

For me, I write a lot. I do this blog everyday. For myself, mostly. I need to express myself, to consider the world I am living in, which troubles me greatly and can often feel overwhelming. So I get up early, put on the coffee, and try to let some of my worries and hopes, my dreams good and bad, out, so that I can examine them. That's one of the ways I meditate. Some people find gardening helpful. Planting seeds, tending to them, and helping them grow. Whatever it is that gives you joy, do that. Call old friends. Tell a dirty joke. Look at the stars. Do something besides the same old same old. I promise it will help. We have a lot of anger and sorrow right now. This is not new. And it isn't going anywhere. Once this time passes, and it will, another terrible thing will come along. And another. That's part of the deal. Even so, life is beautiful, magic, and worth fighting for. And to get in fighting shape, you need to know what you are fighting for. Life. Love. Joy.

Here's a song. It's The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In from Hair. Dig it.

GIMME SOME LOVING

Got sick yesterday. Not Covid. Just some kind of stomach bug. But it was a drag, and there was that moment where you go "is this it?" Very strange times we live in. Very strange. I see these headlines about how over a thousand people die a day in the USA from the virus. How a man was shot dead because he got into it with a woman about wearing a face mask. I try, every day, to see the positive, to embrace life and all its mysteries, but sometimes it is just a bit overwhelming. And we have this strange man in charge. He just seems to completely lack empathy. I don't know why or how he got that way, or if he just projects a terrible image on screen. Maybe in real life he is this life force exuding miracle. Maybe he's been taken over by aliens who are bent on our destruction and they're using him. Maybe he's a zombie. I don't know.

What I do know is that, as the song goes, what the world needs now is love, sweet love. I can't think of a single situation where less love would make things better. And we have it in abundance, and it seems to have vanished at the same time. I walk around and see all these people exuding love and kindness. And I walk around and see all these people closed off and angry.

I think we must celebrate love in this life because of all the awful. I read a post this morning of the old FB, about how we should all be happy and not read sad news. I think we should do both. Read the sad, then dance with wild abandon, to lift your spirits. It's always worked for me. I think, maybe, this is the beginning of a new world, one where our priorities are a little clearer, and the necessity to take care of each other obvious. Change isn't coming, change is here. And it's full of love.

I don't have much more to say today, due to barfing, but please hang in there, spread the love, be the love, find the love, seek the love, grow the love, love the love.

Here's a song. It's What the World Needs Now. It's from the last scene of Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice, this funny and sad movie about people seeking joy in a world gone mad.

HEY SOUL SISTERS AND BROTHERS

I want to write a letter to everyone's soul. I want to ask it how it's been. What's it been doing since this whole thing started? Has it noticed the elasticity of time, how one day can seem infinite and brief at the same time. I want to ask it what it thinks about opening up the country again, even though it is most likely going to mean more people will die than need to. And what thinks of the response, both locally, nationally, and globally. I will of course ask it about Tiger King. Maybe it has made some funny videos. Or written a blog. Does it howl at 8, or applaud at 7. Does it get cranky. Has it used the time to explore its inner workings. And after all the questions that have almost become routine, I want to ask it to please show up more often. Please. All ours souls are in trouble. Big trouble. This is the big moment, the climatic segment of the movie where the hero has to make that decision, take that action which shows us that she or he has changed, has learned from its ordeal, overcome whatever obstacle it was facing, and is now ready to destroy the one ring and save Middle Earth.

Show up, lost souls, wandering the night seeking solace. Show up and remind us who were are supposed to be. Lead us in dances. Give us the right words to say. Point out our mistakes, gently but firmly. Allay our fears, and boost our hope. Dole out love. Lots of it.

Have you noticed how those who speak with love are easier to listen to? Every day, on social media, and tv, and on the streets, I come across people speaking with love. Love for the world, for humanity, and themselves. You can sense it. There seems to be a grounding to them. A purpose. A desire to be part of this whole thing. And there are also those that speak out of fear. And You can feel that too. There is this nervous energy, a sense of dread, and the possibility at any moment of them lashing out, like someone in a corner and pushed to the brink.

Can you speak to that as well, O Souls of the World? It's a simple concept, I know, but we keep forgetting it. Love helps in every situation. Every single one. I can't think of anything where I would be able to say, "You know, things would be better here is we just had a little less love. That's the main problem, really. All this damn love. You know what we need? A little more fear. That would really get us going in the right direction."

When I howl tonight, I will howl for our souls. Loudly. When I play D&D with my friends tonight, I will do it in part to feed my soul. When I teach my classes online today, I will try and let my students instruct my soul on whatever they bring today. There is so much actual soul food out there. It's everywhere. In each act of kindness, each smile at a stranger, each phone call with a loved on. Each time I walk my dog. Each flower. And it's free. This too is nothing new, but somehow we always forget that. The answer to pretty much all our troubles is free. But we forget to stock up on it.

So Souls, go to the metaphysical Costco or Wal-Mart and load up the car with love please.

If we act out of love, we can get through this. We can figure out an economic system that takes care of us all and let's us live the lives we want to live. It will lead us to ideas that can let the planet itself thrive, with clean skies and pure waters. It will give us better music, movies, and books. And we will even tell funnier jokes, the ones that when you think of the next day make you laugh a second time.

Here's a song. It's Message of Love by the Pretenders. Love to you all.

And, here, as a bonus, one of my favorite things:

FREE WILL ASTROLOGY