A tiny delight, the shadow of the little dingo’s head on the page. I balanced my time well today, among work, housework, good works, and some escapist reading, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.

Another tiny delight, the little bowl Amy made for me some years ago, left on the desk yesterday after a dark chocolate M&M snack, just a tiny bowlful, and today shimmering in the morning sun, catching my eye while I worked.

And yet one more tiny delight, the grapefruit tree started from seed from fruit Kathleen sent last winter. It grew too big for the grow light stand so I ordered special citrus soil which arrived today to pot it up. Now it lives in the sunroom. Someday, grapefruits!

I split some kindling and chose delight rather than frustration in the challenge of knots, which pinned the splits together several times. No need to force them apart, they’ll kindle just as well pinned.

I could really see this afternoon how my inner state affects my outer state. It’s a foundation of mindfulness, this awareness that in any moment there are many factors that can determine our outlook and behavior, from physical, emotional and mental comfort or discomfort, to cultural norms or biases, to genetics and family of origin characteristics, to the weather. I received an email that made me very uncomfortable, and I struggled with how or whether to respond.

Would I have felt so irritated if I hadn’t earlier listened to this important conversation between two respected legal experts on the ramifications of the regime’s nearly 100 murders on the high seas over the past 61 days? Why is 61 days important? Why is this unconstitutional behavior by the White House not getting more attention? Because the people being murdered are “not American” or “not like me”? Because they are allegedly running drugs? There’s no evidence for that, just the Commander-in-Thief’s proclamation. This is yet another test: if Americans do nothing, they’ll take it as permission to fire upon any boat, eventually, anywhere. Joyce Vance and Steve Vladek unravel the complexities and urgency of the situation in a fascinating discussion.

I took the little pets for a walk and savored the lovely warm afternoon, the beauty in the woods, I cussed at a patch of small dead Russian thistle that escaped my notice and now has gone to seed, walked some more, and came in to chair an Indivisible zoom meeting. While the walk had somewhat restored my equanimity, the weed patch threw it off again, and I was still ruminating about the email when I sat down to lead the meeting.

I felt cranky, but turned my attention to gratitude to open the meeting, thereby managing to quickly switch gears and celebrate the achievements of my colleagues, who rallied in a matter of days to deliver more than $600 worth of groceries and other staples to one of the local food pantries over the weekend: Because of the starvation policy that the Lie-a-Tollah is holding over Americans to coerce surrender on the government shutdown, while he and his billionaire toadies (no offense to toads) feast ironically.

After the meeting, I continued putting up the potato harvest, roasting some for dinner, some to freeze for quick hash browns in some uncertain future. The potatoes I thought were red are indeed purple! And tasty.

While I would very much like to throw a tantrum sometimes, and cuss out people I know or more commonly those in the current regime, (or to use a more vulgar nickname for he who shall not be named), I’m an adult. I try to live according to virtuous values, and acting like a spoiled brat or a mean girl is not an option. This article in the Atlantic, “A Confederacy of Toddlers,” reminds all of us that the only way to beat this regime is to remain the adults in the room, and we each have to do that one at a time in our personal lives. We need to manage our emotions and befriend (or at least tend) our inner demons so that we don’t set them loose on everyone else. But it’s ok to have a sense of humor.

At the end of the day, which is where I am now and grateful to have made it here, especially knowing that so many people did not, and knowing one person who almost didn’t, all the personal irritations fall away, all the global uncontrollables fall away into the vast emptiness of nondual unconditioned reality… Or they at least get absorbed by watching the joyous extravaganza of the latest episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race España, which is ultimately the same thing.