You know, there is some crazy shit being proposed out there. Cray-zee. If you pay even the briefest moment’s attention to politics, it seems like folks are losing their ever-loving minds. Even the shortest exposure to the barrage of hateful nattering out there makes me want to crawl back into bed, draw the curtains and nap until I gain the strength to go on.(And, yes, I know that I say that pretty much every day and in every situation, but still…)

I truly believe that all this political garbage is because people are afraid. Life is, let’s not say “random”, but rather, unpredictable. It’s scary when you can see society changing around you. It makes people nervous that they are going to lose their place in the world. And that seems threatening and dangerous. When we can’t see what the future holds (as if we ever really can) we want to feel better, more secure. Some folks are hell-bent of finding a scapegoat for all the ills of the world and seem to be trying to demonize just about everyone; non-christians, single moms, gay and lesbian couples, immigrants, unions, entire countries…Please don’t make me go on. It gives them a target for all their fear and anxiety, but guess what? It doesn’t change a thing, except make the world a very unfriendly place.

Now I’m not one who’s afraid of the changes that seem to be driving some people mad. I think love shows up in a lot of forms, and every time it does, that’s a good thing– no matter what that looks like. I think it’s positive that we are moving away from the “good old days” that some folks want to cling to, since in my mind they were filled with inauthentic restrictions, cookie-cutter gender roles and sporadic bursts of violence against people who didn’t fit the mold. Good riddance, to my mind. But I have kids and bills and friends facing all sorts of challenges so I understand the urge to freak out when the future looks ambiguous.

But what is going on right now, this violent, angry, punitive drive to pin everyone down, lock step, into a Walt Disney fantasy of what America looked like sixty years ago hurts my heart. There is no empathy, no generosity, no LOVE coming from the very folks who have claimed for themselves the mantle of morality…as if morality can exist without it.

Seriously? It’s a wonder I get out of bed at all.

Then, like a gift from the heavens a delightful nugget of absurdity arrives via the magical interwebs. Behold! The Tutu Project!

Did you click on the link? Do it. Partially because it’s hilarious, partially because you won’t understand why I’m so darn enamored of this guy, but mostly because I don’t know how to download videos.

Bob Carey is the man in the video. He’s a photographer whose tutu-clad self portraits have been dedicated to his wife, Linda who was first diagnosed with cancer nine years ago and has been battling it’s reoccurrence for the past five years. That’s FIVE YEARS of chemo, people! (and she’s not hiding in bed, so I guess I shouldn’t be, either.)

To keep their focus positive, Ben has been traveling around the world, taking goofy portraits of himself whenever the mood strikes. He’s recently complied the portraits into a book to raise money for breast cancer charities. This all makes him the second sexiest husband on the planet, as near as I’m concerned. ( But, Honey? If you carry through with your threats to raise chickens this spring, I am going to have to re-order my list of fabulous husbands thusly; 1) Bob Carey- 2) Anyone who doesn’t bring home chickens…)

Bob Carey and his wife found a better way to approach uncertainty. Through embracing the absurdity of it all. Through laughter and humor and love and faith. His portraits are gently mind-bending. Seeing his tutu-wearing self gazing serenely at a cow reminds me that sometimes the unforeseen can be delightful.

I think that’s a heck of a good lesson for all of us right now, myself included. If we could all just loosen the hell up. Maybe stop thinking that respecting folks who don’t think or look or live exactly the way that we do will usher in the end of the world. That would be nice. And easier than you might think. All we need are open hearts…

And tutus. Lots and lots of pink, puffy tutus.

The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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