Dearly Beloved. We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life. ~Prince.
This is a love letter.
To you, to everyone you know, and mostly to the folks who don’t ever take their shoes off.
I do not want to hear about how it’s so much nicer over there, but not at our house. Our neighborhood doesn’t have all the stuff your neighborhood has. Your town has so much more to offer than ours does. Your park has a more inventive playground. Our walking trails are easier to navigate. Your downtown center is more inviting. Our restaurants are more authentic.
Argh. We are all so tired of comparisons that are meaningless.
We have evolved. We no longer care about the Jones’ or keeping up with them. The grass over there seems green. The grass over here is, in fact, green.
We need only ourselves to feel complete. And to be complete. We have learned this from Mister Rogers and Oprah and Glennon Doyle and Deepak Chopra and from our kindergarten teacher Mrs. Schmidt with her fluffy beehive woven like spun cotton candy.
Have you never been a kid? Kids don’t compare such things. We used to climb trees barefoot, for the love of pete.
Have you ever been a kid? A barefoot kid? In the rain? Wait. In the rain in the summer? Barefoot in the summer rain? And walked in a puddle? Splashed barefoot in a puddle in the summer rain? Sat down in a puddle, splashing barefoot in the summer rain?
Then you have been truly whimsical. Remember that. Just you and some rain.
You know how to whimsy. Now go, kick off your shoes, and chase it.