Looking For The Positive

    So much going on in the world is massively stressful right now. The news makes my head want to explode: North Korea; Russian hacking; Tax Reform (the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, same shit, different day); the 45th president making cringe-worthy tweets and unscripted remarks on a daily basis; the systematic dismantling of safeguards in our government that protect education, the environment, personal rights; hate crimes on the rise; the continual uncovering of more of the pervasive sexual harassment that has been a staple diet for any woman working in a male dominated workforce; and on and on and on. I won't even get into the aspects of my personal life that are cause for an aneurysm. We are going through tough times.
    Today at work, I was so tired. So tired that I started weeping while grooving to "Under Pressure," by Bowie and Freddie Mercury. I wasn't sure if the tears were for the loss of Bowie last year, and Freddie far too soon. Or if I was just tired. Or too stressed by, well, everything. So, being the eternal optimist, I made myself divert my thoughts to search for positives to hold like a flickering light against the darkness. This is where my brain went:
    Bro Love. Yeah. I dig that it has become acceptable for men to show love and affection for each other. "Love you, bro," is the new "See you later." And it won't garner snarky comments alluding to someone's sexual preference. Men can hug. Not that awkward one armed, pat on the back, but don't allow any torso contact... or, gods forbid, and incidental bump of hips *gasp*. Guys can give each other solid, affectionate hugs. Bro Love. Bromance. Call it what you will. But as the mother of two grown sons, and a passel of other young men in my tribe, it is a heartwarming thing to see.
    Less mortification over bodily functions. Especially inadvertent bodily functions that tend to occur during strenuous athletic endeavors. It is almost a point of pride, when lifting heavy, to say, "Oh my god, I peed myself a little." Honestly, I have always said, "Pee before you lift heavy." (also, "Pee before you put on armor," but that was almost another life). And Google, "why does running make me poop," and you will get a litany of hilariously horrifying tales of rebellious digestive systems. We are finally allowed (mostly) to have our bodies do what bodies do without feeling a life sentence of shame. Okay, kids may not have gotten this message, but at least adult athletes have it figured out.
    Next on the list: Internet access to my local library system. This may seem like a simple thing, but to the time crunched who lives in an area where each library branch is relatively small, and not on my direct route home, having access to the county's file index in all its Dewey Decimal glory is fantastic. I can browse to my heart's content in the comfort of my living room, place my choices on hold, designate where I want to pick them up, and ta-da, in a few days I can pick everything up in a matter of a few minutes. Then I am on my merry way. Due date approaching? No problemo. I can log into my account and renew with the click of a mouse. It is truly an amazing luxury.
     My fat tire fixie bicycle. I know, I've probably talked this one to death with my friends. But I really love this bike. And you want to know why? The exercise? No (but, I do like the workout). I love this bike because it brings back the joy I used to get on my bike when I was a kid, and when I was a bicycle delivery person in downtown Portland when I was 20. It is pure, unadulterated fun. It makes me grin like an idiot and make derpy faces. I laugh when I plow through puddles. I take it down onto the packed river rock along the bank of the Willamette River. I ride through parks, dodging the root bulged pavement. I ride dirt paths. The wind in my face, pedaling for all I am worth, for no other reason than the sheer joy of it. And I fantasize about doing some epic adventure on this slow, fat tire bike, like ride the Trans-America Trail: from Astoria, Oregon to Yorktown, Virginia. Okay, that would be almost impossible on a single speed bike, but the thought of it is kinda groovy.
     I think it is great that more adults are realizing that it is totally cool to color with crayons. I've never turned my back on this particular joy, but a lot of people "grew up."
     Blanket Forts. Legos. My dog Hugo. Fun music. There are a hundred things, little things, that I need to remember when the world seems dark and hopeless. Because it is neither, dark nor hopeless.
    As Gandalf observed, "Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I found it is the small and everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love."