The wind, Nicodemus, the wind.

So, I pretty much quit humanity on November 6, stopped reading the news, I'm done with politics etc, etc.  I've been singing this song for a long time now: The fewer interactions I have with "people," the better. The feeling isn't new, and this election didn't help. 

But I opened my eyes at 3AM this morning and, still half asleep, said out loud: "The wind, Nicodemus, the wind." 

Um. What the hell? The Book of Matthew. At fucking 3AM. REALLY...!? 

I haven't looked at a bible since I moved away from home, but the passage has to do with the moving of the Holy Spirit, like the wind, through the hearts of regular people. Something like that. I have no idea why I woke up speaking this, but seemed like a message, like something my back-brain was trying to tell me.

I'm not a believer in spirits, and holy ones are no exception. But it does occur to me that the only way forward, the only way out of the mess America has made of itself, is through those small, everyday interactions, the moments of connection, the little acts of unexpected kindness that I used to be so good at when I still had a soul.

 

Those little, every day interactions are where life happens for me. Not in the endless headlines of endless wars, not in the outcome of this or that election, not in the silly antics of some celebrity.

Forget saving the world, Dumblog. Forget winning out against  adolescent billionaires and boutique politicians. America is lost for at least a generation, and I'm not wasting another minute on it. There is no saving it from an apathetic and misinformed citizenry that actively votes against itself again and again. There isn't much you can do with that.

But what I *can* do is make someone's day a little bit kinder. A bit easier. A bit less marginalized. A bit less isolated. I can't fix humanity, can't save the world. But I can do that much.  

Not for their sake.

 

For mine.