Going Inkless

I woke up this morning with a song running through my head... barefoot and smiling... They have a tendency to do that. It was an old Dylan tune, but it could as easily have been something new this year or something centuries old. It might have been nearly any style and as likely to have lyrics as not. There's a wide range of songs that bubble up in my head unexpectedly, but each one is clear and singular when it makes its appearance, the star performer on its stage. I feel it in my ears just as if it were playing in the physical world rather than only in my mind, and my whole being resonates with its notes. What a wonderful way to wake up, swept along on a current of song. Music has a way of seeping in and possessing me. I may not remember the title or artist. I may not remember the words, but for the moment I'm listening, I'm entirely there, submerged in it, listening with more than ears. The connection to the song remains long after, ready to well up like a natura

Purity is overrated. Through the ages, society has prized the absolutes: the whitest of white steeds, the perfect purebred dog, the matching set of dishes, or the untainted noble lineage. We aim for the flawless lawn, as evidenced by the number of dandelion killers on the market. Superlatives and homogeneity are the ideals. This narrow scope, the concentration of acceptable qualities, means perfection, and society always clings to the purity of what is "ours". It is an ancient prejudice, this preference for "us" and mistrust of the "other". Anything less than 100% makes people uneasy. Even here in the United States, home to immigrants from all over the world, there are still groups that squabble over the validity of a lineage, branding only those who came over at the start, and on the right boats, the truest of Americans. BUT Nature loves diversity. Variety and adaptation are the rules. They are the keys to survival and progress. Even the most bor