I could be talking about a lot of things out there, but in this case I am referring to our Presidential contenders, most specifically the boys remaining to slug it out in the Grand Old Party. Nothing has changed; we remain on the brink (see below).
I watched the New Hampshire returns last night, and because my need to inflict self-punishment apparently knows no bounds, I also forced myself to listen to the dreary, predictable, unimaginative speeches that followed.Then I tried to go to sleep, but somehow kept dreaming about being on a space ship bound for another planet, any other planet not inhabited by anyone named Mitt, or Newt, or by someone who sleeps with dead babies, or who has two first names and his feet planted firmly in a time before the French Revolution. I can't remember that the ship landed.
But here's a happy little surprise. Instead of inflicting further punishment on myself, this morning I went to sit and eat and reflect with three other dear friends in what has become our weekly Breakfast Club. Three hours later, and after sloshing through several hundred cups of coffee, my companions demonstrated what is still possible even in these murky, unsettled, often distressing times: love, compassion, support, gentleness, thoughtfulness, and generosity. I thank Mark, Michael and Don for again reminding me that these qualities endure, despite all signs to the contrary. Through this first post of 2012 I extend the same hopes that you find them in your life in the New Year and beyond.
