Photo by Sean Stratton on Unsplash

pursing the next new thing
what about the old thing not yet finished?
more fun to chase the pretty yellow butterfly....

yet efforts scatter as the butterfly flits
from flower to flower
no path, no purpose
just whimsy

there are times for whimsy and times for grinding out the work
balancing the two can be a trick
sometimes the chance to chase butterflies is right around the corner
your work is nearly done
just finish it

Yuma is a hot place
Close to the border with Mexico
Nights cold, days blistering

Migrant workers bused out to farms
Doing their laundry in evening by hand in sinks
Like me in motel

Door to door asking
"How many live here?"
Some angry but most yearn to talk
With a stranger for a few moments.
In the shade.

We share stories and kindnesses.
They offer me water and wishes for my safety.
Hippies, Mexican Americans, young people who revel in someone who sees them.
Marginalized people who just want to count. To be seen, To matter.

Photo by Charlie Solorzano on Unsplash

In any good mystery, you must know who the players are before you an solve the case.
Professor Plum, Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard, Mr. Green.
Each brings a special something to the table of the game.
They interact with each other like puzzle pieces trying to find matching sides.

The players determine the play, the game.
In fiction and in life.

Who are the players in the game around you?
How well do you know them?

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

You can run from your past
But it will always find you.

You can plunge headlong into a new life
Filled with hope for how things will be different.
But you brought the old you to it...

The grass really isn't greener over there.
It's just the same grass that looks different from a distance.

Photo by Şahin Sezer Dinçer on Unsplash

We are taught to follow the paths of others.
The greats who have come before us.
Given the prominence of television and movies, sometimes we confuse fame with wisdom.

Be your own tour guide.
Don't wait for others to show you the way.
Strike out in a direction. Any direction. 
See what surprises wait just around the corner if you go that way.

Photo by Esther Ann on Unsplash

Hope is an airy thing.
Wispy like smoke.
What if we all held out hope as a rag doll?
Giving it life with our imaginations.
Our future looks bleak, yet we have the power to create a hopeful future.

Why do we cling to the past?  To the way things were done before 2020?
We have a chance to start again.  To do it differently.  Right now.
To create the world as more fair, more just, more connected than ever.

What if we base that world on respect?
Respect for each other, for the natural world around us and its wild creatures..
That sounds pretty good to me. 
I've been to the past and I know we can do better.
Greed, anger, and ignorance don't need to reign in our world.

Photo by Crissy Jarvis on Unsplash

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,...
Standing up and having a voice.
Unseen and unheard guarantees a future of being unseen and unheard.
Invisible sounds like a great way to hide.
Safe in anonymity.

But what if you could change the way things roll for you?
Being seen puts you in place where you can make a difference.
Scary, yes. And you might have to get up off your resignation and do something.
Maybe even a glorious something.

Photo by Ines Álvarez Fdez on Unsplash

How can I be of service? What needs to be done to help?
These thoughts echo in my mind as I sit down to write.

I've been writing these posts for nearly a year.  I've wandered around with their content.
I've added readers and I've lost readers.

If I can help one person see possibilities in themselves...
If I can help one person not feel alone..
If I can help one person see beliefs they hold, judgements they make, particularly around health and their bodies....

Then it would be worth it.

Photo by roya ann miller on Unsplash

Seeing friends again after long absence from sheltering.
Cautious reunion.  Each wanting to keep the other safe.
Masked greetings.  Air hugs. A great meal shared from 6 feet.
Joyful reunion with my grand-dog.

Our world has changed.  I have changed.
We have all transformed together.

Sometimes changes evolve slowly over time, but this time it was a rapid, all-humans shift.
And with us, everything we have built, all our animals, are touched.

In the end it is the one-to-one connections that bring me joy.
That, in fact, has not changed.