Choosing happiness anyway . . .
Saturday, March 21, 2026. It's the Satyr's day . . . more record heat is in the forecasts for Green Country. Southerlies, sunny and upper 90's. The heat dome is to move out of the area overnight tonight. Low 90's tomorrow.
In the morning mailbox
If we fall in love with creation deeper and deeper, we will respond to its endangerment with passion. --Hildegard of Bingen
Between Us
…I knew when I said
I love you
that I was inventing a new alphabet
for a city where no one could read
that I was saying my poems
in an empty theater
and pouring my wine
for those who could not
taste it...
– Nizar Qabbani, “Between Us,” in translation, publisher unknown.
Today, the multi-laureate awarded actor, Gary Oldman is 67. born in 1958, London, England. multi laureate awarded actor.
Johann Sebastian Bach was born on this day in 1685, Eisenach, Thuringia, Ernestine Saxon Duchies [Germany]. Among the greatest composers in the history of music.
Trump is trapped in Iran and American consumers are up Shit's Creek.-- Robert Reich, “The real reason Trump is trapped,” on substack, 03.20.26
The argument for choosing happiness in this moment:
If to enjoy even an enjoyable present we must have the assurance of a happy future, we are “crying for the moon.” We have no such assurance. The best predictions are still matters of probability rather than certainty, and to the best of our knowledge every one of us is going to suffer and die. If, then, we cannot live happily without an assured future, we are certainly not adapted to living in a finite world where, despite the best plans, accidents will happen, and where death comes at the end. – Alan Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity, Vintage Books edition, 2011.
Anyway
Flowers don't like dodgeball.
They never scream pick me, pick me.
I feel rejected, I guess,
is what I'm saying about beauty.
…
If you are alive, you're
a beautifully foolish revolutonary
throwing bombs at the grave.
…
Sure,we're all going to die,
but most of us aren't going to die
in Philadelphia, or December, or without love.
– Bob Hicok, “Anyway,” The Colorado Review, Spring 2026, p.224.