I’ve been outside most of the day, and continue as I write, sitting out on the side deck and staying out of the morass. Over and over again, I see and read unhinged conspiracy theories, grapple with the religious right, steam at the reality of health care behind the scenes of our federal government, and I shut it all off. For 42 years of my life, I was consumed by this shit. Sorry for the language, but in reality, that’s what is streaming from the mouths of so many who say they’re in charge; the ones who claim to have an avenue of solution and want to control the airwaves. Through my writings and musings over the years, there’s no secret as to where my compassions land; however, measuring the preoccupation of stress that I should have versus what I may be drawn into is in my control. So, I took, once again to the water. Lake Michigan was like a recently polished mirror, and on top, floating bonnets of ice where birds could roost and watch the scenery of the passing day. There are no arguments out here. No relegation of responsibility or yelling at pronouncements that make absolutely no sense. There are no pastors dictating my religious beliefs chastising me if I don’t walk through doors of a church we built, tearing down God’s forests so the spire is no closer to heaven than the actual tree. Or offering scathing remarks if not baptized in a spray of water from a fountain instead of kayaking effortlessly across actual water of Nature’s grandeur. See? See how easy it is to get the ire up? Where was I, oh yes. I kayaked on soft, supple serenity, today. I treated myself to physical distancing with goldeneye ducks, mergansers, and seagulls. I watched flocks of geese fill the skies, heading north. I skirted ice flows and played in their wanderings. Back at home, I’m slower, softer, and able to enjoy my day. These are days we can control, and through the worst of circumstances, we can reach new havens of quiet by staying out of the morass.