Find your bliss and hold onto it.

If you've been around me lately, you'll've noticed a distinct change.

I feel unusually alive.

In years past, I have spent many a December feeling drained, depressed, without vitality. What happened?

The music.

Me playing the music, specifically. And all of the time too. I'm bathing in it, spinning in place while singing and banging percussions and twinkling twinkling twinkling the piano keys.

Days are now filled with activity I love to do, or activities that will help me do the thing I love to do.

How do I know the shift is good? I can pay my bills. My body has responded by demanding more fresh water, more fresh foods, far more movement. My mind is less frenetic. The sleep is deep.

Daring to let your light shine in an era when leaders--leaders!--are vocalizing their desire to provide torturous ways to painfully put out your light is quite a defiant stance. I can't change minds, I cannot make anyone see how we are all connected, and that what happens to me happens to you and you to me. And it isn't my job to do that, I am finally realizing.

All of this *gestures to world* continues to churn by mechanisms beyond my control, and the people who can end a lot of this nonsense absolutely refuse to do so because of the incentives to keep all this going, and this causes great turmoil within. I'd love to be able to walk up to a particular person and say, "Come on now, sir, it's time to take your nap. Put those codes down."

So, how am I calm amidst all this?

Because this area *gestures to home* I can make this joyous, filled with good food and coffee, the air vibrating with music and cat purrs and my family and friends' laughter and the clinking of dishes. When I turned my attention to that, with full commitment, the shift happened.

And now here we are.

There is no real lesson here. I have no advice. I don't even know why I am posting this because it isn't strictly educationally related and is kind of a downer.

For the 38 subscribers and the ten extra people who will read this, I suppose I just want you to know that if you're fighting for that bit of light in an otherwise grim situation, go. Do it. Yes, it's worth it. No, not everyone will understand. Go for it anyway.

When you light a lantern for yourself, others see the light too, and sometimes that's all a person needs to get that last little push toward the dream. I've been the recipient of such light. That's what's enabled me to be here--someone else's lantern.

I hope this helps another.