These are moving times. Literally and figuratively. It would be so easy to sink into despair and shock, except for one thing; it feels like an enormous worldwide growth spurt. The old and barbaric is being squeezed out, and somehow, somehow, love is expanding underneath. I really believe that. My housemate has one of those mini-libraries out near the sidewalk, which she keeps filled with books for all ages. People take a few and bring a few too. What with one thing and another, the box is always stocked. Today, as I was returning from work, a man came by and told me this library had literally saved his life when he was homeless; it gave him something to look forward to and some ideas on how to move ahead. He commented on the fact that now, some people have created similar sidewalk boxes for items such as toilet paper, deodorant, and soap: "You know, if only everyone just shared what they have, we'd all get along great." People know this. They understand it. While this man spoke to me, I was a little closed and reserved. I chatted with him, but fatigue and a lifetime of standoffishness with strangers kicked in. It wasn't till after his truck pulled down the street that I realized he had spoken the wisdom of the gods. I was so moved. I wished then that I had stepped off the porch and hugged him. I hope I'll learn.
Tomorrow, I'll be moving by bus then plane to England, for a week of singing and listening to the wisdom of my heart. Yes, that place is my soul home, but it is experiencing as much change as we are on this side of the Atlantic, and I am changing too. I'll tell you more about impressions of this visit once I get there. I am taking my computer with me, but regular readers may find I am on a much different writing schedule. Thanks for your patience!
The trick is to move with love. I'm just trying to see a welcoming path ahead of me at all times. And yeah, let's share what we can. We'll get through this growth spurt, one and all, if we can keep shaking off that darned snobbery, and just be kind to one another.
