And tonight, everything's okay.

For some reason, or for no reason, tonight everything's okay. I feel lonely but not alone. Rather, the other way around. Nothing needs to be better. Life can just be tonight. I put a lot of pressure on life to straighten out and make more sense. But life does not care about me. It is indifferent. Life will always flow, will always grow, regardless of my will. "Life finds a way" (Thanks Jeff Goldblum).

I can just allow it. Slip into its stream and let it shape me. Tonight in the car I wqs listening to Christian radio. It seems for Christians, they have that notion, but use "God" or "Jesus" as their touchstones. I silently beg the universe for blazes of inspiration that will carry me to greater heights of fulfillment and clarity. A voice in my head says "Ain't no inspiration gonna come, you gotta work. You gotta earn it." I'm tired of my words, like corrals trying to put sensible boundaries around life. Life's quieter, subtler than words. A woman laughed in the hall just now. Laughing sounds like dancing, like jumping.

Today I reflected on unity. Community. Common unity. Hm. Uni-ty. One-something. One from many? Etymology is great. I thought of the notion of "my people" and finding a tribe. Maybe I just need to stop looking. I thought of those weeks in the woods, with others, making something frivolous together. But it was validated and backed by guests and ticket sales and money.

A big sigh came in just now. As my thoughts said "but what about now? What about THE PROJECT you are angstily toiling at." Big sigh. Because it feels hard. It feels not right. It feels like if it were right it would be less hard. Yet with Ry, talking, sharing excitement at the possibility of something new, something wondrous, something magical, something unifying, it's exciting. There is a crack of light. Of purpose?

And yet, life, and its begging of me to slow down and let go and give and love. And live. Can these two things coexist? The ease of true life and the push of new life?

Dance, great mystery, dance. The native people call god Great Mystery, or something like that. I like the notion that Mystery itself is worshipful.

My computer died. These are tools. As I compare new options for computers, something in me knows the computer swallows my time. I will get a typewriter. Why not? Wow. The notion that a thing sits stationary (stationary, ha!) and awaits my typing. Awaits words. Hmm.

Tonight, everything is exactly ok. I am warm and safe, my loved ones (god willing) are warm and safe. They're sad and happy. They're laughing, they're lonely. They're questioning, they're content. They're tired, they're wired. They're worried, they're certain. They're here, they're gone. They're ok. Please let them be as ok as me.