The opportunity

We slumped in the red and white light of the MAGA celebration happening on the screen, empty bottles and ashes cast everywhere, a steel baton in my lap, just for something to squeeze. My dear friend offered to me that there was another kind of mandate presented to us that night - an opportunity. He did not use those words, aware of how poorly anyone could tolerate sunshiny-ness that dark night. But the idea burrowed beneath a scrum of my cynical protecters and landed in my chest.

We now know that we do not have any choice. We will have to become stronger, braver, more dedicated, more generous, more loving. And more devotedly honest in the face of a fact-less, fascist makeover of the Story of America. We must be wiser as to how we spend our sweat, blood, time, and energy. We must cast off the slog of middle life and its existential doubts.

There is nothing more important than what my dear friend pointed out – the opportunity. At least there’s that. If we can’t call it a silver lining, I’m going to at least insist that it has a bit of a sheen.

The stories of how we resist, how we survive, how we gather, how we fight, and how we heal, will give us the best shot at finding out how we eventually triumph - for the cause of humanity, justice, and truth. In the name of writing our own destinies, let us hold our country up, finally, to its ideals - before they can be disappeared.

Like countless humans before us, let’s tell our fucking stories, and share them, and witness them, and preserve them, and protect them from twisting or erasure.

The world is too dangerous for anything but truth - in all its varied explosions - ghastly and sublime.

From simple blogs to surreal novels that challenge the farce.

From angsty teenagers to those that are moving toward the exit of this life.

From JFK to LAX (RIP Guru)!

If you want help storytelling, you know where to find me for coaching, editing, and much more.