I know it’s been a horrific week, but let’s remember tomorrow is July 1st. On this eve of the summer season, my best advice is simply to jump right into the deep end of your favorite swimming hole and let something heavy and weighty float away… at least temporarily.
Next week, we can discuss Lincoln’s warning, “A house divided against itself cannot stand,” because that is the honest Abe truth we Americans must face once more.
Year 29 is over, grades wrapped up, classroom straightened out, and kiddos graduated! Time to celebrate all the teachers from coast to coast, and applaud a job well-done during this extraordinarily challenging year. You & me & all the rest of us: we did it! 
“I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth“(Hamlet). I still blame COVID and its insidious roll into every aspect of life, but lately I’m not sure if that’s the root cause for my lack of mirth. There are days when I see one headline and I’m flattened by only six words. Those 50 Senators, that Russian despot, guns powered by young men, poverty and hunger and oppression mixed with ignorance and hopelessness while most of just want to escape to Margaritaville. This level of desperation is hard to hold on to and yet, it permeates many avenues running in and out of my view.
For this fleeting moment, I am reminded that there is another route. It is not too difficult to find, if you put down the newspaper and shut off the pundits. If you look up to the blue overheard and take that wide and wondrous expanse in. I invite you to stroll through my yard, to leave behind the world’s obscene pile of troubles for just a few minutes, and take a long look at perfection. Perhaps take this as an invitation to breath too.
