Against Probability

An ode to what's possible.

I Love Love; Anything is Possible is a newsletter about making your life magic when everything fucking sucks, walking hundreds of miles on foot, homosexual longing of all kinds and laughter as catharsis when crying feels boring as shit.

Two things are happening simultaneously. 1) The days are long now, sun setting at seven PM– and yes, there is sun. 2) The political landscape is increasingly bleak. What is probable, is not good. I thought of the probabilities just now and was stunned, frozen.

I am not interested in what’s probable though. I am interested in what’s possible.

What is possible, is that many days in the very near future, I will wake up and the first thing I will do is kiss my partner and care for my dogs. I used to take several photos of my dogs per day, I used to marvel at how it came to be that I had soft animal companions in my home that I gave names and that knew me as their touchstone. I’d post pictures on the internet of them sleeping, of them stretching, of them chewing sticks and running in the grass. I would never be satisfied with the amount of feedback I got. Do people not understand that I have Soft! Animal! Companions! In the comfort! Of my own! Home!?

Just this year, at age 42, I have grown to understand that no amount of response could contain the true and right amount of celebration of that fact. I have not one, but two wild creatures sitting beside me, most of the time. One is a thick, screaming mass of muscle and floof who will fall asleep lovingly gazing into my eyes and kiss me so gently on the lips that I may not feel it at all. The other is a chihuahua with all the rage in the world trembling in her chest, who still when she is hurt will cower in my arms. My animals will protect me and they will comfort me, I will protect my animals and I will comfort them. For the foreseeable future, it is possible that this will remain true and I don’t need a single person to say a single thing to enjoy the miracle of that fact.

Possibly, the dark future will continue to devolve, and we will figure it out right in time. Shit will go down, because shit is always going down. But possibly my friends, my family, my community and I will know exactly what needs to happen to take care of one another or exactly how we can get the fuck out of dodge just in time. Possibly, I will feel more ready than I thought when the moment comes. Possibly, disaster preparedness won’t actually be necessary but nothing will have been lost doing it anyway, and I will be glad that I did. Possibly, I will be ready even if I feel like I am not.

Sup?

Possibly, I will figure out the right way to relate to people. As we move through the end times, my irritation will fade and give way to the kind of connection and boundaries that prevent me from getting all riled up in the first place.

Possibly, my sense of self won’t be so protective and ironclad it ends up keeping people out.

Possibly, my entire body knows that the whole point is to love and be loved and I will be so proud to see that I am doing it exactly right.

Possibly, it’s all going to make sense in the end and I will see the romantic and platonic rollercoaster relationships, missed opportunity relationships, unhealthy relationships, and perfectly fine relationships but not the right relationships of all kinds as making so much sense.

Possibly, I will see what’s been there all along and I won’t even think of pushing it away.

Possibly, I will think of my childhood and I will say to my child self, wow I am so sorry for what happened to you that made you the way that you are. I will say, the way that I learned to love was heinous but who cares, really, because I am the person that I am which means that I have handled it well, I have turned out just fine. Possibly, I won’t give a shit what anyone thinks because I trust that I am good. Possibly, that trust will be so intrinsic that it no longer seems like a question. Who would ask if the sun is warm? Who would ask if water is wet, if the desert smells good after a monsoon rain, if delicious food and fresh air and abundant light are good for the human soul?

Possibly, I will have enough, you will have enough, everyone will have enough. Possibly, if we falter, community will catch us. Possibly, we will be incredibly moved at how much we’ve all got when we all share a little. Possibly, the loner types will be left alone but loved anyway. Possibly, the social types will have all the stimulation they need. Possibly, community will feel different for everyone, but it will always feel like enough.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s possible we course-correct. It is possible that the truth is becoming so abundantly clear that it is impossible to ignore, impossible to delude ourselves. Possibly, it is entirely true that the web of care has been knitting itself along, more every day, and more on every day to come after that. Possibly, there is a golden corner to the rotten truths of today. Possibly, there’s a way to figure all of this out that I haven’t thought of yet, but continued thinking, talking, living, writing gets me closer to all the time.

Possibly it’s okay to not have all of the answers. Possibly, more information is on it’s way.