Tales of Joy #2

Hello again, dear readers.

You all have reminded me why I write these Tales.

Every year I experience prolonged labor and difficulty with Tales #1. My primary symptom is a sense of over-exposure…

like I’m on YouTube giving birth.

Then your responses come rolling in, almost immediately, bursting with the enthusiasm of shared confessions, and relief (this year) to be “not the only one” who is so damn crazy and strung out on watching the news, the whiskey cocaine of cellphone usage or whatever your hit parade happened to encompass in 2022. Others could relate to the pride of being the best damn talking parrot, who could recite the latest news on cue…

In an exchange with one very high-performing friend who also mentioned the wine, the ambien …the habits that have snuck into her pandemic regime, I responded:

Thanks for this, beloved sister….
Being a human on earth seems to be nearly synonymous with addiction.
Layers upon layers upon…. OY 😱 .
We lovingly witness for each other 💕 💕 💕 🙏 💕

Others had a lot of fun reading about the

…attack cactus

and Coyote Trickster’s traditionally lowbrow humor.

Please don’t ever worry about me, darlings…. I am firmly and completely embraced by the Mother. And I know that these adjustments are all as mild as possible, and are necessary to lure my (ADD) focus back onto the path. I did sign up for the fast track, after all!

And here it is, the beginning of a new year, by some calendars (but not most, given the Buddhist, Hindu and Chinese systems). I am greatly heartened by all of the astrological predictions I have read:

…that some of our madness as a nation may be starting to morph into a more (dare I say this?) nuanced, mature, and humane perspective. And that the clown car, with its clownish square wheels is clacking to a rude and bumpy denouement.

It was necessary, I believe, to keep our collective nose in close proximity to the toxic fumes of racism, sexism, and classism which are woven into our national tapestry.

I already held a sad and solo memorial service last spring, to finally lay to rest my childhood conditioning (since the 1950’s) that our nation is exclusively, contrary to all logic and reason,

the land of the free, home of the brave.

As Langston Hughes suggested decades ago,

O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—

Dear readers, before I travel to, literally, the other side of the world, tomorrow, I want to share some of the glory of La Paz… the art and gentle whimsy that surround me, from the time I open my bedroom door in the morning:

Read the complete Newsletter #2 (Click Here to view or download pdf)