I hear the birds. The sun is warm on my skin. The compost pile is returning to life. I am returning to life.
Having lived on the West Coast for a few years, I now feel that, by comparison, the East Coast is a place of delayed gratification. Endure the tough, sometimes long, winter and then spring explodes. The grass is coming green again. Tree buds are swelling.
I feel the same thing happen in my mind, in my spirit, in my dreams. I dream dramatic dreams every night and in each one the theme is new-ness. Last night I was on a beach riding bikes along the water. In another I was painting a door bright blue. One more: I was with my youngest brother and we were figuring out a problem and we were walking through underground caves that seemed to connect the entire city of my dreams. And these were not subway tunnels, these were caverns, underground rural paths.
Spring is my new year. I have taken the month of March as a time away from posting any writings on the website. A mini-sabbatical. My reflection is that I need to share more of my joking-around, not-taking-life-too-seriously self on here.
I am different when I talk. I joke around a lot more. My general philosophy is find a way to build a good life, but make sure you laugh a lot each day. We cannot get lost in our rational minds, we have to feed our emotional well-being.
That is why I think that the nascent project of benevolent gangs is so important. This is where we recharge. This is our sabbath. This is so important. A weekly place to go and be loved and love. To find time to heal up wounds and recharge.
This is a collective project in re-localizing camaraderie. We need this more than we need our time with television and facebook. We need our clans, our guilds, our posses, our family. We need our gangs. Our Benevolent Gangs.