I feel a sense of deep peace this morning.  The parts and pieces of my inner kingdom are calm, like well-adjusted animals.  I’m not sure how meditation once a day, or even once most days, manages to translate into so many seemingly unconnected benefits, but it does.  My desire for fresh juice has returned; I’ve dusted off the ole’ gear driven gal.  How did I ever stop juicing?  I love it so much.  What I love even more than juicing is taking the fresh green juice, blending it with raw garlic and avocados, then putting it in a big bowl drizzled with toasted sesame oil and fresh cracked pepper.  Mmmm.  And when I journal, lately, dots connect themselves before my very eyes.  Old dots, longstanding dots, dots that I haven’t understood to be connected to anything else in a long time.  And it’s weird how inner peace, in whatever measure, isn’t and can’t be “against” anyone or anything.

In fact, if I have one major critique of the “side” I consider to be white hats in all this churn, culminating this year but obviously its roots going way back, it’s the continuous addiction to the idea of some external, rather than internal, happening.  When will there be arrests?  When will there be declass?  When will all the sealed indictments be unsealed?  When will the disclosure occur, and how?  When will we know for sure?  When when when?  All valid questions, especially considering the fringier anons get really fuckin crazy with their, you know ‘in this picture posted on this date the eagle was pointing north and if you add together all the digits of the time stamp then you get what turns out to be latitude/longitude coordinates for what turns out to by the exact spot where the sun would set at that same time on this particular day, the same day Trump tweeted x y z’ blah blah blah.  It’s either that, or it’s like, ‘here is an incredibly complicated series of events and times and coincidences that, when arranged in order, seem to indicate that Hillary Clinton also had this person killed’, which is probably the most likely solution to any given mystery lol.

Anyway — all that’s fine.  We live in cryptic times, where meanings and messages have to be coded in order to stand a chance of passing, undetected, amidst our MSM/big tech captors.  I just permanently deleted my Instagram and Facebook account this morning, FYI.  They can now use my camera (they refer to it as “our camera” in the policy update notification, which you agree to simply by continuing to use your own account) whether or not I have the app open?  They can check to see what other IP addresses are in my proximity and on my network?  They can access and review my text message conversations?  They can access all my other accounts that I use via that same device?

When I say MSM/big tech captors, I’m not being hyperbolic.  That shit is getting serious.

But let’s feel more deeply into the cryptic, straight through into its energetic gel matrix, the mystic.  One profound universal truth we can all grasp, easily: when I know what I don’t want, I know what I do want.  And if you’re not yet sure of what it is you don’t want — don’t worry, the universe will show you more and more things, until you are sure!

So, for me, and maybe for a lot of us this year, watching unhinged people do and say unhinged things, it really hit home.  It stopped being about political parties, belief systems, science, or dogma, whether masks work or not, whether Trump is good or bad, whether BLM is good or bad, any of that.  Instead, at least for me, it got a lot more close to home than that.  I was like: I’m not at war with your reality — you are.  There’s right, there’s wrong, and then there’s just…tacky.

There was a lady on my flight from Cancun to Chicago that was wearing (obviously of her own volition) some kind of COVID snorkel.  It had a fitted clear rectangular mask over her eyes, another fitted rubbery looking part over her nose and mouth, and then a snorkel — a snorkel — I repeat, a snorkel — extending from the top of the wide, elastic band cinching it around her head, maybe like four inches up into the air and then it curved, and had some sort of filter fitted into it.

The guy in the seat next to me was the one who pointed her out.  I mean, I was buried deep in the bowels of this 737, in the middle seat between two people, huffing my own stale breath in my paper mask because I don’t care how long this goes on, I am not investing in anything more durable than a throw away paper mask because this will become normalized for me over my dead body.  So, the guy next to me — incidentally — referred to people who prefer not to mask and socially distance as goofballs.  I was like, alright.  I don’t think anyone cares about a difference of opinion, as long as we’re all doing the live and let live thing in public places.  I haven’t gone full martyr about the masks in public because I understand that these people truly believe they are unsafe, and I don’t need to have my face free in public more than they think they need to be safe, however brainwashed they may be.  I’m not aggressive like that.  I do, however, avoid public places where I have to wear a mask, because I don’t like wearing a mask, point blank.

I think it’s funny I even have to say that, right?  “I don’t like wearing a mask.”  Well no shit Sherlock lolllll.

Anyway, so this guy next to me, who thinks people that don’t want to wear masks — that are proven to be 100% ineffective in the prevention of the transmission of a virus that is proven to be 99.993% non-fatal even if you do get it — are goofballs, tells me he got the Coof back in June.  Two weeks of misery, he said, and two days of real misery.  Now he’s been tested for the antibodies, which are present, and so he definitely had it, and definitely recovered.

“So, you gonna get the vaccine?,” I asked.  He was born and raised in Chicago, which is a place I already knew I would never live before 2020 but now, after 2020, Chicago seems even more of a net loss.  I mean, a little earlier, when I found this out, I was like: “Howabout y’all’s mayor, huh?”  He just changed the subject.  But he changed it to COVID.  Normally it would never OCCUR to me to ask someone who’d had the Coof if they planned on getting vaccinated (!?!), but his goofballs comment made me suspect this crazy son of a bitch might just go for it.

“Oh yeah,” he said.

I sat there, reply drowned in my mask.  Wearing the mask while talking to people feels like having your whole face and most of your rhetorical/expressional power castrated, right?  All the normal joie de vivre and je ne sais quoi: surgically removed from human discourse.  Good thing I’ve given a reasonable amount of cosmetic attention to my eyebrows, cuz…that’s all I’ve got on airplanes these days.

Here’s what I mustered: “But you have the antibodies.”

“Well…” he said.  “They said it won’t *hurt* you, if you’ve already had it, to go ahead and get the vaccine.  So for me, it’s like: hey.  Why not?  Better to play it safe.”

My eyes: wide as saucers.  Wide as a cat’s eyes when it sees a picture of a lion on TV.  I guess this guy’s never heard of the whole adverse reaction deal, let alone the whole changing our DNA deal.  Alright.

So I say, “Maybe it’d be good to, you know, let other people get it first and see what happens to them.”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” he said, thoroughly misinterpreting me.  “I wouldn’t want to get in front of people that really need it.  But maybe in six months or so, I’ll definitely get it.”

So: I only told you all that — that whoooooooole story of this guy with antibodies for the Coof, planning on getting the vaccine anyway — in order to say that, several minutes later, he pointed out the snorkel lady to me.  He goes, “Hey — you see that lady up there, in the second row from the front?  You see that…snorkel thing she’s got on her head?  That’s her mask.”

I felt my mask-castrated — masktrated — expression do weird, cat-watching-TV things again, and leaned forward to see.  Goddamn there she was.  She was actually interacting with the people to her right and left.  You could tell because the snorkel was merrily rotating around and bobbing with her nods.  The goggles part was truly an enormous plexiglass brick over the top half of her face.  The elastic band holding the whole thing on was truly 2 inches wide, minimum.

I turned back to antibodies guy.  “Wow.  Wow!”

“Yeah right?,” he said.  “Just kill yourself.  If you’re that scared — come on.”

HE said that!!!!  He SAID that!!!  He said THAT.

All god’s critters got a place on the crazy-spectrum.

Anyway, where was I.  Yeah, lots of examples of how not to be, this year, but back to my original criticism: I think the point of all this, the real deal point, is that I’m glad it turns out there’s a whole faction of people for me to resonate with, this year, and in response to these themes, who aren’t so at war with their own realities, or anyone else’s, for that matter, that they can’t just basically act right.  So that’s great.  I love it when people can manage to act right — solo, in groups, in agreement, disagreement, confusion, certainty, whatever.  But STILL, this hanging on the narrative.  Holding their breath for the validation.  Wanting their side to win.  Which is my side too, for that matter, but that focus still keeps too many hooks in my gullet for my preference.

The Constitution basically asks us to self-govern and then provides some barebones refereeing around that process.  That’s the contract, the form of exceptionalism we decided on, the karmic journey we agreed to, here.  My beef with organized religion, for what it’s worth, and my interest in the metaphysical choose your own adventure as an alternative, is that I’m not interested in the protection or guidance of a nanny state, or a nanny church.  It’s like, fuck off with your commandments.  I started holding myself to a higher standard when I was five years old, damn.  The thing is, though, many many people need those commandments.  Just like people need speed limits.  It would make a lot more sense, to ME anyway, to just assess the visibility and traction of the road plus the weight and maneuverability of the vehicle I’m driving and, you  know, make a decision that’s right for me.  And I definitely appreciate speed suggestions.  If it seems like a 65 but they have 45 posted, I’m like: hm, maybe there’s some hazard or issue I’m not yet aware of.  And I think moral suggestions are great too, or commandments if that’s what it takes to get people to act right, but the entire point — the ENTIRE POINT — of moral development, or in this analogy development as a safe driver, is that you eventually just do that shit on your own.  Why are we all in this lifelong expectation that we are, and therefore must be treated like, existential toddlers all our lives?  As if it’s not something to grow out of?

So yes, the election was rigged.  Yes, shenanigans are afoot.  I’m really into the plot twists of all this stuff too, it’s fascinating and also important.  But none of this could have happened in the first place if we were all, actually, deeply, self governing.  We’re all falling short of the mark, there.  In fact, the Americans I’ve met who I’d say are doing the absolute best job of actually self-governing, in all important areas, are the immigrants.  It is not enough to vote for the right guy.  And it is not enough to wait and hold your breath for the right kind of justice to prevail, so that we can all go back to being admittedly mediocre albeit not downright crazy.  Just like the lockdown — “the lockdown”, what the fuck does that even mean anymore — really separated the boys from the men in terms of what level of self-soothing and creative, rather than destructive, energies people were able to bring to bear.  What do you do when no one’s watching?  How do you treat people who are lateral or below you on the pecking order?  What integrity moves have you made lately, regardless of what’s going on with our MSM/big tech captors?

I don’t offer any of this as a gotcha.  I just mean, a house in order doesn’t just UP and get overrun with vermin.  Being upstanding and forthright and brave and honest and authentic IS what’s going on right now, regardless of whether Tucker Carlson shit the bed or not.  So yeah, let’s eat our popcorn and watch for declass etc, and any of us who can make the trek to DC on the 6th, let’s please do that, but this is just a reminder: not only is there *something* we can do in the meantime; it’s the *only thing* AND, it’s everything!  Become more aligned with your political, moral, and emotional sense of self-governance.  Or else we don’t deserve the form of government we were lucky enough to inherit, anyway.

You know what I think spiritual growth is about, really? Not waiting for someone else or something else to set the tone for your day, for your outlook, for your life; to show you how it’s gonna be, to give you your sense of timeline or deadline or agenda. Instead, you get ahead of all that. You meditate or pray or read spiritual books when you wake up or however it is you get your fix, and YOU set the tone. And set it high.

PS: you’re welcome, to everyone who bought Bitcoin because of my advice :-)