Gate 403
I'm writing this from the Port Authority Bus Terminal on my way up to Tamerlaine Farm Animal Sanctuary. Tamerlaine is a place I love very much, and I am happy to be spending the weekend there. The women of the farm are heading to D.C. for the women's march, so I'll be helping out and hanging out with some other gents in their absence.

I have felt pretty shell-shocked about this whole "Donald Trump is going to be the new president" thing. I watched bits and pieces of the inauguration today, which increased my discomfort for sure.

But then:

I headed out this afternoon to teach a piano student. She was ornery as usual, but I noticed she's getting older and more reasonable. I laughed instead of getting aggravated when she tried to pitch a fit about playing a passage again, and the she laughed too and played it even though she didn't want to. I went to a coffee shop and instead of getting overly annoyed at the woman in line ahead of me rooting around in her purse, I gave her the seventy-five cents she needed. Something in me seems to be reacting to the fear around and within me and I am deciding to act on these little shards of light.

I am resisting.

I see so much of this in my little Brooklyn neighborhood. Homemade signs went up several weeks ago expressing love for our diverse neighbors, of which I am one. People seem sad and nervous, but somehow more open and aware of one another. When I was part of a fur march in Manhattan a few weeks ago we crossed paths with a Black Lives Matter group coming the other way. We all cheered for each other instead of at our opponents for that one lovely moment. Something makes us more awake when we resist. It reminds us we are one.

I think a bunch about why seemingly bad things happen, and why, if there is some kind of God, would they allow us all to suffer. Maybe this is part of that "why?"

I don't know of course. But I wonder.

Just for today though, I am going to find those inner glimmers that resist the ways I am being afraid. I am going to look for more ways to be a helper. Truth be told, I have very grave feelings about where we are headed, so this is not all Pollyanna all the time. I am here now, though, and so are all of you.

Let's show each other that we are still good.


p.s. I was writing originally to say there won't be a podcast on Monday, but I'll be back the following week. I'm going into "production" on this handmade thing I am creating for all of you $5+ patrons. If all goes well, I'll be sending them out a week from today! There's a downloadable portion of it too that'll go out to all patrons, so stay tuned for that. I'm kind of excited to see how this turns out!