Me and Scorpio Man

   You know I don't believe in love at first sight, my friends. But I was instantly drawn to Scorpio Man when I spotted him in a crowded club this past September. The handsome, clean-cut guy grinned in appreciation of the music. He sat alone at a table, one small glass of alcohol in front of him. I kept dancing. And looking his way. And scheming. 

   Finally, I casually placed my glass on his table. Then I went back to dance to one more song. Then I returned to his table and lifted my glass for a sip (of water, which I'd finished hours earlier). Lucky me, a nearby chair was free. 
   "Do you mind?" I asked.

   "Sure, go ahead." 

   Conversation easily spilled from there. Scorpio works in construction and moonlights as an artist. He's divorced with a grown daughter. His marriage ended due to infidelity on his wife's part . . . Though he has a drug history, Scorpio cleaned up his act eight years ago and never looked back. I shared about my work and writing, marital demise, what brought me to Chico. 
   He  listens too, I thought. What's his deal? "So what do you think of Trump? You don't like him, do you?"

   "No, he's scary." 

   Phew. "Definitely scary."

   "Last call for alcohol!" the bartender shouted, as the music faded. "We're closing in five minutes!"

   We proceeded to stroll around the semi-busy downtown area, chatting away. I felt as though I could comfortably fall into Scorpio's arms. We'd be a good match, he informed. Scorpios and Cancers get along great.

   But I had to go potty, and it was nearly 1:00 am. "It's way past my bedtime," I told him. As Scorpio walked me to my car, he put my number in his phone.
   "Do you want to go for a hike tomorrow?" he asked.
   "Yeah, sure." I paused. "I have a few things going on, but that'd be great." I was interested. Yet I didn't want to move too quickly. Actually I did, but I knew I shouldn't. 
   Scorpio warmed me with a generous hug. "So nice," I said softly.
   "I want to kiss you," he whispered, and then he did. A brief chemical, firework-y kiss. "Wow, that kiss -"
   We parted ways. 
    -to be continued.

Fear and Bridges, Kol HaOlam Kulo

  In my nearly eight years of blogging, I've never felt stuck like this. It's not a "writer's block" stuck. That one's easily cured by a brisk walk or a nice, warm chocolate chip cookie. Or two. [Okay, three, and then I'll stop for now.] No, this sensation resists a quick fix. It's more profound and contentious than that.  
   "Go write through it," I tell myself, watching my fingers meander the keyboard. "Go . . . write . . . through . . . it." But how? What do I write? Back to sillies? More dating-fails? Pretend life goes on as usual?
   Dears, I'm scared. I'm scared for humankind; scared for myself; scared for my loving nephew; scared because the number of visits to Out of the Darkness (for suicide prevention) keeps rapidly increasing; scared of much more than I can articulate. And this damn fear creeps in, time and again, dropping me into a numbed stupor followed by brief bouts of tears. 
   There's a song in Hebrew: "Kol HaOlam Kulo." I learned it decades ago, and it's been sung widely for centuries. The hymn's message is this: "All the world is a narrow bridge. The most important thing is to not be afraid." That translation never quite worked for me, though, because fear is human. Instead, I take from the song: "The most important thing is to not be stopped by fear." 
   And so I won't. I haven't. We won't, and we can't. There's too much at stake. We need to realize that the elite few want to keep us not only paralyzed in fear, but divided as well. 
   We need to push through fear together, to manifest and appreciate moments of humankindness. It was in every earnest fist bump and "I'll miss you too" that I received before Thanksgiving from teen boys who'd been  demoted to alternative high school for "delinquent" behaviors. It's in a child's handwritten sign on the front lawn of a Berkeley Elementary School: "Love trumps hate." It's in my friend Ken's message from across the country and the other side of a false political divide: "Don't be scared pretty lady. Keep writing."
   Humankindness. Community. Love. It's our most powerful weapon for building bridges that will ultimately lead to a better world. Together and in spite of fear, that's not just our challenge. It's the most important thing.
  

Thanksgiving Erotica, Let the Basting Begin

Dears,
You're smart and witty. Perhaps you have insight into this random statement - one that equates me with a snowflake.
James Farmer Robyn Alana Engel you are so lost. Another snowflake in life. 

This means I'm a crystal of snow, but what do I know? I'm a native Californian. And I'd simply promoted lovingkindness on Facebook. Again. Snowflakes are beautiful, am I right? I haven't been so complimented by an insult since I was called a "provocateur" last week. I'm liking this hate; it's good for my ego.

Anyway, sillies, please take gentle care. Life is too precious and too challenging. And you're too important to me. 

Whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving, may you experience sincere gratitude this week and season.

Love!