there is good in the world.

the truth is, that goodness still exists. astoundingly.

i am reminded of this as i attend concerts where mexican musicians gush over life's beauty, love's strength, and family's brilliance. they close their eyes and tears stream down their faces. they dance. they dance. they dance. their feet banging on la tarima in that rhythmic pulse-- one, two, ten, thirty of them all together on stage. oh, this goodness is strong.

i am reminded of this as i see a woman holding a blind man's hand across the street. she leaves him, continuing on her sunny-day run, and i pick up where she left off. his name is ken. his day is good. he is going to take the bus. let's take it together.

i am reminded of this as i listen to political debates and see the fire of "we need a just world" blazing in my beautiful friend's eyes. school and finances and youth don't stand in our way.

i am reminded of this as i listen to people laugh [oh how i love listening to people laugh]. their eyes squint in the brightness of the coming sun, their cheeks are red in the pain of too much laughter, their feet strolling in sync with their partners in crime [oh how i love listening to people laugh].

these days, the resounding goodness of humanity is really pushing me along.....

let's grow kindness in our hearts for all the strangers among us, 'till there are no strangers anymore.

life's direction.

i hope:

that i never have a collection of "work slacks."

that i never have email access on my cell phone.

that i never need to use a bluetooth for the purpose of multitasking.



but most of all....

i hope that i am never ever bored.

(so far so good.)

i was a dancer all along.

one, two, three, dream.

sometimes all i want to do is sing. 
throw my banjo over my knee and strum the days away. close these green eyes of mine and let the melodies fall upon themselves in the most rhythmic folds. they'll listen, little one. they will. 

sometimes all i want to do is bake.
this week my beautiful friend dawn gifted me three old fashioned pie plates; they are thick and metal and textured with names of old chicago pie companies on the bottom. they are beautiful. and are begging to be filled. they beg to be covered in the chilled crusts and slightly sweetened cherry cherry boom boom filling. yes. sometimes all i want to do is don one of my many aprons and bake bake bake the days away. 


and sometimes all i (don't) want to do is learn about the functioning sexuality of humans.
a slightly annoying desire has entered my field of dreams as i think about my future. michelle debruyn, sex therapist. (haha.) certainly this wish is a budding one, small in the shadows of music and baking, tiny in the way that my days seem to pass. but if it is true that one should do what they love, or do what they find most fascinating, then this new "all i want to do" might be apropos. in reality, it might just be the fact that i love saying to my best friends "DID YOU KNOW......?!" with all excitement and enthusiasm expanding their graduated minds into this odd world i live in right now. perhaps that's it, just spreadin' the knowledge. but maybe this dream is true. because i would love to describe to you the unusual practices that exist in the world, the anatomy of reproduction, accessory structures, the involvement of the various nervous systems in the process, the phases of bodily response, the disorders, transmitted infections and diseases, unconventional and conventional practices, flow of hormones, and so on and so forth. or maybe my slight obsession with this stems from the fact that in t-minus four hours i have an exam on this shtuff. cross your fing-fings.

for today i'll let myself be a dreamer.
today i'll soak up the sun that peaks its way through these april clouds.

and tonight i'll don my cowboy boots and drip myself in diamonds.

because (musician or baker or other) that's just the kind of lady i am.

this spring, dance.

there is this ironic twist that happens when you decide to share your thoughts and moments on a space such as this: the busier you are, the longer you go without writing; the longer you go without writing, the more you have to say; the more you have to say, the more daunting it becomes, and simply adds to the list of "i am too busy to touch that right now." and so days and days pass without words, weeks and weeks pass without clicks, and suddenly we are left catching up with a month's worth of shtuff.

but, come on. we're all grownups. let's move past that.

what has this month brought? a community of nothing but absolute goodness, that is what.

we have learned how to greet the days and celebrate the mornings:

we have learned how to forget our troubles and soak up the afternoons:

we have learned how to live the prime of our lives and go without sleep:

we have DANCED with a thousand people in the streets of seattle: flash mob flash mob flash mob 

we have SUNG with a hundred people in the secret gem of seattle: organaoke


i have put my dancing shoes on.


and after some time, after a break from writing and a break from thinking, i have realized that i am absolutely bulletproof. so, chin up and ready to strut: 

i'm happier dancing to the beat of my own drum than that rhythmic spell. cheers to that. 


i was a dancer all along. 

BUSY.

i just turned down a job to be a baker in one of the greatest cafés in the neighborhood.

because

i

am

too

damn

busy.

it pains pains pains pains pains pains me.