I wake up and meditate. All is well. Life is good.
Then I turn on the news and everything’s a complete disaster. Religious zealots are killing people en masse, peaceful protesters are being trampled by riot police, America is facing off with the Orange Clown, North Korea is being run by a B-movie Bond villain, and Israel is seeking unconscious revenge on the Nazis by persecuting the Palestinians.
So I turn it off and make breakfast with my wife. The morning sun shines through the kitchen window onto our toes. We admire the color of fresh chard. I marvel at the fact that I can make an organic hemp milk, matcha latte and chase it with wild Alaskan fish oils, bee pollen and adaptogenic herbs, even though I wonder about the DHA containing mercury, the water carrying aluminum, and the adaptogens being contaminated with Round Up. We sit down, and lovingly stare into each others eyes for a long, long time. It doesn’t feel cheesy at all.
We then take Tomorrow to the dog park in our beloved Volkswagen that now stands as an example of our own complicity in corporate greed and environmental destruction. He gets into a fight with another alpha, and for a moment I secretly hope he wins. Then I worry about the potential vet bill, and quickly break it up. We return home and do some yard work until we’re sweating and covered in dirt. It feels good to wield a shovel like a real man, I think, before asking Jagna if she wants to go to the sauna later to exfoliate.
In the afternoon I go out to buy some chocolate. I give a dollar to several homeless people who look like they may not make it through the year. One has a horrible limp that immediately reminds me that I have to go to the chiropractor for an adjustment. I feel guilty about this, but reflexively find myself pushing away the emotion. Noticing this I stop, and consciously turn to face it. Suddenly I am hyper aware of what is probably only a fraction of the white privilege that I have been blessed with in comparison to this man, and so many others all over the world. At a red light I swear to myself with as much sincerity as I can muster that I will not take these gifts lightly, that I will do whatever I can to throw down the ladder to those less fortunate than me, and forever exhibit humility as a result of the luck of being born with so much opportunity. The light turns green but I don’t notice. Someone honks. A cyclist passes me on the left and shouts “wake up!”
“I’m trying,” I mumble.
While making dinner I flip through an old copy of Time magazine that I probably lifted from someone’s waiting room. I find myself mesmerized by a two page advertisement for a pharmaceutical drug that literally says it “can cause severe and uncontrollable bleeding, brown urine and vomit that looks like coffee grounds.” The picture shows an attractive older woman laughing and playing with a golden doodle. They look like they’re having the best. time. ever.
So I begin playing with Tomorrow and asking Jagna to make sure that I don’t start pooping coffee, and bleeding uncontrollably. She smiles.
Once again life is good. Precious. It’s going to be OK I tell myself.
And even if it isn’t … it will still be fine.