if I let go of everything, can I have some of it back afterwards?

The world seems to be rising to a shouting crescendo of badness. I mean, really. Neo-conservatives with a psychotic plan to destabilize the planet have control of the country, and sometimes it seems they won't lose control of the country until they've caused a worldwide depression which, I'm willing to bet, would leave China as the only major power still standing (after all, if anyone could afford to invade the rest of the world, there's certainly no shortage of Chinese people). And another consequence of the California recall, if Arnold Schwarzenegger is elected governor: in return for rewards from the Republican Party I'm quite certain he'd be happy to settle California's complaints against the energy companies for much less than the $9 billion they defrauded us for.

The good news is that, to the best of my knowledge, Arnold can also be recalled, as soon as he takes office. I will, of course, volunteer to collect signatures, although he'll probably get a couple weeks to fuck up before the backlash really gets going.

Astonishing, the quantity of things out of my control these days. Relationships come and go, bad things happen to good people, good things happen to bad people, and the only genuine constant is that I am here as a part of it all. The only real thing is right now, and how I choose to approach the world, who I am to my lovers, my friends, my families, my enemies, my superiors, my subordinates (if I had subordinates--instead I just have people in some amount of awe and wariness of my job as Associate High Priest of That Computer Stuff[tm]). Who am I, now, in this moment? What do I really want? Do I want it for myself? For my desires and insecurities? Or do I want it to save all sentient beings?

Every little thing, every small and large kindness, ripples out and alters the balance of the universe. I believe that peace is the infinite freedom of love for all things and attachment to none. I believe that that love is available to all of us, now, in each passing fraction of a second. I've seen it, felt it, touched it, tasted it, felt its action, felt its obscurity.

It's really all very silly.