We the People Under the Stares…are stars, chutes, ladders, birds, saints, sinners, amazing, bored, rich, poor, feathered, bread, lost, found, fine. In other worlds, we’re something.

Art for breakfast, lunch and dinner…after making Charlie bacon of course. I could not abandon the routine until all the chores were done which took two days. Three day weekends…the height of luxury for those of us sandwiched somewhere in between. I suppose that makes me bologna…yes, a fraudulent flap of cheap meat. Despite my status as a swamp rabbit, it is not lost on me that these precious extra hours came at the expense of a beloved man.

Survival keeps us alive. Living is a hunger game.

Meanwhile mansions are coveted museums of oppression, wearing dead animals is considered fine and all those who make the grand illusion possible are shoved under the stairs like unwanted step-children…till it’s time for tilling or tea.

Boston threw ice in the harbor. A man played his trombone outside a hotel. And I energetically held a sobbing woman as she recounted unpublicized nightmares too horrific to mention. Aren’t we all her?

We are her, him, them, they, theirs, yours, mine, hours…and all of it has to somehow fit neatly inside one heart and never spill out like a labile octopi…eight billion laughing, screaming, sleeping, howling, raging, apologizing, breathing, eating, kissing, cuddling, creating, meditating, dancing, dreaming, doing, loving, lonely, connected beings.

Since the pandemic I can no longer metabolize humanity as quickly as I used to. Protecting peace as a professional healer is sacred. My heart, along with all limbs and sense must remain flexible…so in addition to bologna I am also Gumby.

Sometimes we need boundaries of cast iron…handy for hot heads and other times, when it’s truly safe, we’re free to bend.

Today I bent my own rules by laying down my body, phone, tasks, steps, weight, energy, past, future, even temporarily, my fur child…which he tolerated thanks to bacon, bubbles and later a walk, a stick and ice cream…and it was fine. Maybe even safe, good, wonderful…relatively speaking.

Slow down to go faster. Though we wish certain things would just hurry up like equality, true love’s arrival, next week’s paycheck, bedtime, morning, clarity, healing, door dash, global enlightenment.

According to a theory, or e theory, attraction is a frequency. Energy is a currency. Regulation, which is impacted by the ferocity, multiplied by the velocity of whoever or whatever it’s been hit with previously, dictates speed along with intention. Integrity parallels alignment. Purpose and play are entangled. And everything, eventually will be fine.

Until then…