The Nonsense of It All

Why YOU are AMAZING.

Oh, I know.

ALL about it

…About how f*cked up and evil this jacked-up, stark-raving-mad, crazy world really is. And yeah, I know—how insanely lopsided and ridiculous your straight-jacket life has been of late.

But you know what?

You.

Are amazing.

You might not feel like you are, but I know better.

And I'll tell you something else. You're fundamental. And essential. And we're not talking "commercially essential" or "what's-your-brand-so-that-we-can-market-you" essential. Real ESSENTIAL!

In fact, you're so damn crucial that if you went missing—in the real sense of the word, not the fictional, Smartphone-Facebook-Go-Fund-Me sense of the word—Heaven itself would flip out.

It's true.

And I know you're not religious, and I guess I'm not either.

But let me dial it down a notch.

—Because I know I can't see you. And I realize I can't delineate the precise nature of whatever mess you think you've buried yourself in. And I know things might seem dire. And I'm sure you have an enemy or two—in your own family. Or in your family of friends.

But none of that actually matters.

Because this minute?—it's just YOU—and me.

And, yes, I can sense you.

You might not believe that I can, but I can. And guess what? You can sense me too. Because you and me?—we RESONATE. At a very special frequency.

And I can't explain how it works or why it works, but it doesn't really matter anyway.

But let me back it up a bit.

Wherever you are right NOW—in the nonsense of it all—just do me this one favor:

With that stylish, gentle flare of yours, slowly inhale the plasma magic (that thing we call AIR)—in through your nose (if you can)—so that it so deliberately and so fully fills your belly that it spills out over into your lower lungs (perhaps, even, for the first time this year).

Good.

Next...

Look out at that suck-hole world surrounding you—with piercing eyes (for those who might be watching)—and do the following:

With your resolute face and calm and steady pace, let that air—that plasma magic—slowly—glide out through your nose (or your mouth) so that it doesn't make a sound, and do this (ever so slowly) until it has fully returned from whence it came to that great unknown surrounding us.

Now.

Stop.

You're it.

YOU—are the whole DAMN thing. Everything.

You are every frigging thing. Imaginable. (And I do not use that word lightly.) Every image. Every sound. Every thought that ever is. Without you, there is absolutely—nothing. Literally. (And I do not use that word lightly either.)

If you don't believe in God, then pretend you believe in video games.

And pretend you're wearing that damn VR headset made by Meta. I really hate using this analogy, but we'll use it because it's there and because it's so damn prevalent in this massive, fake divide.

So, you got it?—that you're wearing the headset?—that Mark-Zuckererg-imposter-CEO-pretending-to-be-Meta VR headset? Of course, you do. And that's good. Because you—can see the game, right? The game—it’s REAL! I mean, it really exists!

—The digital sky, the digital trees, the digital Starbucks, the digital homeless Lynn. It's all there in 20/20 (wink), in full-on fakery. And you're a part of it. In this game.

Period.

And you think you're stuck in the mud, right? Right now? I can feel it because, remember, we RESONATE, at a marvelous and mysterious frequency.

Your angst?—is palpable—and your misery—yeah, it's phony—but I get it.

—Because there is no political revolution. You know damn well that politics is just pretend. Sure, I've heard how much you like your Left or Right. But, come on! It's all a show. Because that guy we thought we voted in last year? He didn't really make a difference, did he?

Well, of course, he didn't.

But your job—should you have a job—if it isn't energizing you?—sucks! Because it's "The Work”—your Great Work. And yeah, okay, we need the money. We need the money to pay the bills to keep the roof. To feed the children.

So let's work with it.

But at least admit to yourself that it is totally fake.

It's fake how much the conjured-out-of-thin-air money gets used to pay you—which is actually REAL money (because you worked for it)—so that you can give it all away, or most of it, through artificial fees and debts, and taxes so that whatever is left might barely be enough to pay for the roof and for the food.

But those weirdos you call loved ones, how have they been treating you?

Because I hope they are showing you the same love, the same respect that I expect you should be showing yourself. And if they're not, too bad for you and for me too—because you and me, we ARE connected after all.

So, may I make a few suggestions?

Since we resonate, you and me—while in the nonsense of it all—while in the thick of things?

Yes, everything looks so real and feels so crucial, but it seems hardly worth the effort because it's hardly what it seems.

Because the only stuff that actually matters is the stuff that makes us cry with laughter—and has us tingling with hope and love. And that fire inside you, when you REALLY try?—it is really something to behold.

You ARE amazing.

And should you walk out of that office…

Or that house…

Or leave that table…

Should you abandon your post, to the shock and awe of others—good for you. Because without you, it's gone, which leads to a tremor in the Force that (in a massive instant) reconfigures or resets everything. Every last thing—so that the drama suddenly grinds to a halt in every corner of our known realm.

And the drama of it all—you've just changed it.

Such a bold move!

But please know this...

The Sun—it is your sacred energy. Let it feed you and shine upon you whenever you need it most.

The Earth—is for your BARE feet and BARE hands. Because it discharges all that pent-up griping that comes with all the "Great Work" you've been making happen.

The Plasma Magic (Air)—it is your sustenance. Let it feed your will so that you vibrate constantly and keep moving in whatever direction you choose today.

Because.

You are amazing.

In fact, the very fact that you are here and lumbering about (without a Meta headset) is more profound than any banker, boss, or any stand-in detractor could ever grasp.

But I know.

Yes, I DO know all about it—about the nonsense of it all. That this place?—is made for heroes. Because only those courageous could handle the weight of its sorrows.

And if today you have lost your way—it's okay.

And how could anyone, honestly, ever get it?! Except me? And only because I am so lucky to have you and so fortunate for all of the times you send me those subtle waves of encouragement on those days when I’ve wanted to throw in the towel.

I'm so blessed to have you.

(Even though I pretend not to know you.)

But that's the way of things.

We've got the Sun, the Earth, the Air, and—oh yes, the Water! The Water that is so totally off the charts that it deserves its own story!

But for now, let's just say:

You are literally (and I never use it lightly) the sum of all of those magical constituents—PLUS the animation, the electrical-conscious animation!—not the Frankenstein-man-made horror fable.

Your electrics—

—are Divine.

Because without you—this nonsense of it all would not exist.

So there must be something. Somewhere deep inside your mysterious and magical animation (of all of those constituents), something so profound—that I know you're up to something, even when you say you’re through.

And I only know all of this because we resonate. And yet I'm sure, whatever it is, whatever scrap of your Grand Design is scheming together some sort of comeback (even as you say you are through), will be something special to behold.

Because I know you.

And I know you wouldn't waste your breath.