Peace
January 1, 2021
Good morning.
To you: Ugh. Sorry. I know you don’t always read, but thanks for when you do, and sorry for all the anger that has churned over and over in these pages in the last year–the last four–so repetitively, so angsty. I search, but seem incapable of finding the words that get at the sadness, shock, disempowerment, injustice. I take sharp aim at those I believe are responsible (I feel like I’m six), but also know I generalize. My inability to deal with the politics of the day is not something I’m proud of. It has gripped me and, frankly, concerns me. I try to speak from my heart, and my heart truly aches. I want my comments to reflect truth, without censor, but they’re just so ugly, and a record on repeat… I can’t even read them. There is something satisfying in a publish button, but also frightening.
I’ve worked — with some satisfying success — to channel into constructive actions, and will keep working on that.
To me: Twenty twenty’s over. Twenty twenty-one is hope. Let’s move on, ‘k? Evolve. Focus on beauty. Equanimity. Peace.
And… publish.
Life of Wry 