Who Cares - What Matters
I looked really hard, but I couldn’t find that little sideways oval space to blacken in a vote for
LOVE
or
KINDNESS
~~things that’ll never be, cannot ever be legislated;
but neither can my sincere honor to offer them. . .
BE THE LOVE YOU WISH TO RECEIVE
(is the only box you’ll ever need to darken)
BiGGER
BETTER
BRIGHTER
that’s what it’s all about in our world today, isn’t it. . .
and oh guess what. . .
we’ve been told countless times over
IN FACT
just watch the news
or just being in a group of people that you don’t even know
standing in line at a grocery store
or a coffee shop
S T O P
Listen to all the bad news that the world is giving us
P L A C E S
As if we don’t have those very dark places in our life
that are asking for what not a bonfire
not even a candle
or even a constant flame. . .
How about just a
F L I C K E R
just a flicker of Hope
and psssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
even if it comes from a
fake candle
that gives
it’s better than a brand new one that doesn’t. . .
so maybe the biggest question is:
ARE YOU THAT FLICKER
FROM A FLAME
AND LIGHT
A DARK SPOT
IN A DARK PLACE
TAHT NEEDS TO BE ILLUMINATED. . .
Are you?
BE THE SPARK
THE EMBER
THAT STARTS
THINGS
G L O W I N G
h e y
is a lot different than
H E Y
unless we go around treating
L I F E
ho-humily-all-of-the-same. . .
‘hey, so what the lights are off.’
hey, HEY. . .sometimes life screams at us. HEY, stop! Look at me! Pay attention! and no matter how much it shouts at us, no matter how much it flicks us behind the ear, thumps in the head, we don’t look, we pay it no mind and there’s the ultimate Ba-BAM across the head, with the 2 x 4 right between the eyes: DEATH and even though we die millions of times we resurrect in even more and many ways that unfortunately, we never notice. . . .
Yes, the lights were off in more than one way last Friday night early in the evening as high winds and rain swept through the Northeastern Ohio area knocking out power in a lot of places; one of them a funeral home where we were celebrating the life of a 24 year old young man who had been diagnosed with epilepsy just 10 months ago out of nowhere and now after a seizure, died.
Now, that’s a HEY kind of a moment that’ll grab you by the throat and make you breathe a little differently.
All of his friends and family were gathered together in a darkened funeral parlor, with the lights from their phones being the only light as one of several of his friends, his sister and his fiancé stood and recounted the memories that needed know background lights.
A family priest came and offered the sacred words that were meant to bring some comfort and some sense out of the dark senselessness that brought us together. Holding his phone to bring some illumination where none seemed to be found he read,
“And for this reason we never become discouraged; even though are physical beings are gradually decaying our spiritual beings are renewed day after day; in fact, this small, temporary trouble we suffer will bring us an eternal glory much greater than any of the trouble, for we fix our attention not on the things that are seen but the things that are unseen; the things that are seen are transient; they last but for a time. But the things that are unseen, these are the things that are eternal; they last forever.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)
And then came the HEY that is different than all other HEY’S; the HEY MOMENT that we often miss; that we seldom never notice or pay much attention:
THE LIGHTS CAME ON
The priest ended with the ‘Our Father’ and led everyone through the “Hail Mary” before turning it back over to me for some final thoughts and a Benediction.
“H E Y !” I shouted. . .”WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?” I reminded this group that we just literally became a different group. Sad, YES. Hurt, YES. Disillusioned, YES! but a different group. Here, on one of the most brutal, DARKEST moments in their lives, they had come together to celebrate a special person who had suddenly, tragically been taken from each of them and in that inky Blackness, the lights literally came on.
I reminded this group of LOVERS what I’m reminding you and others before, one of our biggest flaws in life is that we don’t always recognize what we notice and for their family member and friend I wasn’t going to let that happen for this 24 year old young man. Some were now laughing instead of crying stating the obvious, “He said we would never hear the last of him!” hey. . .HEY!
Aren’t these the questions we ask at times like this: WHY? HOW COME? WHAT FOR? And then right in the middle of all those questions we also have to ask, as the lights literally came on in this darkness, WHY? HOW COME? WHAT FOR? How come why what for Do we have these THE LIGHTS COME ON kind of moments where we literally see resurrections are all around us and don’t notice them.
Psssssssssssssssssssssst: There is no deaths that last forever. No death that hasn’t been followed by a resurrection. Go ahead step outside. I dare you to look at the green grass. I dare you to look at the flowers that are blooming and all their colors. I dare you to listen to the birds that are filling the trees as they sprout their leaves.
Maybe the lights
ARE NEVER OFF
we just don’t have eyes
O P E N E D
wide enough
to see
to notice
to recognize. . .
hey,
H E Y
Whether we wanted to or not
we are celebrating
(ok, observing)
GROUNDHOG DAY
t o d a y
which always brings to mind
the 1993 movie starring
Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell
which finds him reliving the same day
over and over again
when as a weatherman
he goes on location to the small town of
P U N X S U T A W N E Y
to film a report about their annual Groundhog Day.
His predicament drives him to distraction
until he sees a way of turning the situation
to his advantage. . .
A CLASSIC
which has had us not only
sarcastically sighing,
“THIS FEELS LIKE GROUNDHOG DAY”
during our way-too-long-pandemic. . .
and it’s done a little to maybe
help us recognize
not so much our own personal
GROUNDHOG DAY
as we dare catch a glimpse of
OUR SHADOW. . .
Here could be the big
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm of it all:
I recently perused an article by Brenden Weber that pulled back the curtain on
THE SHADOW
Have you ever wondered, how well do you really know yourself? As Plato once said, “know thyself.”
But why?
Typically, when we contemplate whether we know ourselves, the thoughts that come into our minds are our desires, values, and beliefs about the universe. These characteristics we form around ourselves is our code; something the “I” we create for ourselves identifies with. That saying, ‘every man has a code,’ we all do. You have a code that you see the world through and make decisions with, it’s the conscious ego. That code is customizable and changeable.
But what can we do with this awareness? We can ask ourselves, who am I? That’s really the most reliable thing you have, knowing yourself.
We all create this belief system we follow — the identity of you — that is your moral code, your sense of duty, your sense of purpose; the identity that becomes the driving force for action.
But is that truly you?
Ask yourself, have you ever done or said anything — on impulse — that you regretted afterward? You get frustrated and down on yourself — you scream in your head, “why did I say that?” And if that doesn’t relate, think of a time where you had this sudden emotional reaction — out of anger — that had you wondering, why couldn’t I control my emotions? My anger.
Those moments are us coming face to face with our shadow self.
As psychologist Carl Jung said:
“The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge.”
The shadow within all of us is the parts of us we deny in ourselves and cast out into our own inner abyss. That abyss is the place within ourselves that our conscious ego has tried to forget about. We lock it up and throw away the key, yet it’s still there screaming, yelling, and demanding control over your actions.
Seeing the shadow within us is difficult, it’s in that black abyss of our mind that is difficult to enter, as it’s hard to face.
Yet, the judgmental creatures that we humans are, we are good at seeing those shadow traits in others, but not ourselves.
Think of your favorite celebrities and public figures. When a story of cheating in a relationship, corruption, or simply a public display of anger from one of them, the public quickly moves to pass judgment.
This judgment is a reaction that protects us from admitting to ourselves that those thoughts, reactions, and emotions lie within us. This idea is what Jung calls “projection.”
You see, our conscious mind wants to avoid our own shadow, yet our subconscious wants us to acknowledge that abyss of the shadow self, but instead of going into the abyss of our minds — our own shadow — we project and amplify the flaws of others.
We notice these shadow traits of aggression, carelessness, materialism, hatred, envy in the projections we create of others. But that projection becomes a reflection of you: a denial of the perceived inferior qualities and evils that we do not want to admit is deep within us.
We set our conscious mind on the throne of our ego.
Imagine that throne being a giant iceberg, your ego is the tip floating above the water, but that unconscious mind is where the shadow lurks in the endless mountain of ice that lies beneath.
To understand this, imagine a time you had a friend confront you about a fault, something as simple as arriving late to everything. When confronted you are met with this overwhelming rage for a moment. That rage is from your friend hitting the iceberg beneath the surface, the nerves you weren’t aware of, thus lack control of.
For Jung, when we deny the shadow, the more control it has of your thoughts, actions, and reactions.
As he said:
“everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”
Those projections are ways of passing blame for those perceived negative emotions we have ourselves. If we are not aware this is happening, we project our negative traits upon others, blaming them for our own shortcomings and our own lack of personal happiness.
For one, we must become aware of it — dive into the abyss with it — and integrate it into the whole of our conscious ego. If we deny the shadow, we allow it to control us while providing our ego the illusion of control.
We must identify possible origins for our shadow triggers, such as repressed trauma, pain, fear, and aggression.
We must then integrate our shadow by acknowledging those parts in our everyday lives. With this knowledge of those parts, only then can we unlock the wisdom that being aware of it brings.
So instead of allowing fear to control us, we choose courage; instead of pain, we see an opportunity for strength; instead of allowing the trauma to define us, we see it as an opportunity for understanding; instead of allowing aggression to overcome us, we see an opportunity to find our passion.
This understanding bleeds into our interactions with others, instead of meeting other shadows with our own irrational shadow, we meet it with compassion by knowing it’s a trigger they’ve not fully understood and integrated into themselves.
Jung said beautifully about what integrating your shadow into the whole can bring:
“Such a man knows that whatever is wrong in the world is in himself, and if he only learns to deal with his own shadow he has done something real for the world. He has succeeded in shouldering at least an infinitesimal part of the gigantic, unsolved social problems of our day.”
You see, changing the world begins with knowing yourself. . .
R I G H T ?
Hey. . .
GROUNDHOG DAY
will quickly be in the rearview mirror
for another year
but THE SHADOW. . .
WELL. . .sometimes it feels like we live Groundhog Day
every day just like the movie. . .
and even though we most likely know
that’s not exactly true
When is there a day
that we don’t ever live
without our shadow. . . ?
The ones we make
the ones we create
the ones we try to hide from
and certainly
the ones we don’t always want to notice—
Those Shadows
The real kicker
is most of the time
we don’t actually acknowledge
that it takes light to make the shadow. . .
That too
can be self created
manufactured,
recognized,
acknowledged
and lived in. . .
The Shadow’s purpose
may not always have meaning
may not always feel like it has a purpose—
look closer. . .
See what the shadow is actually shading
but never quite masking. . .
. . .and know your
Personal Power Source
not only not only enables
but pleads
Seriously what gives you that Christmas morning feeling?Is it music is a family friends is it presence?
Is it all the food? Is it kind of anti-climatic by the time we get to THIS Christmas morning and all of the feelings have come along with it?
You know, there’s an answer to all of those questions. . .
Three simple letters
Y O UWhat say
Y O U
May all of the Lights of this Day
be yours
to see
to be
to free
in you
for others
always for Others
so that all may know
That Christmas Morning Feeling
A small Unitarian Universalist church choir in Black Mountain, North Carolina (The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of the Swannanoa Valley) began making videos for their online services as a response to the Covid pandemic in April of 2020. Their choir director, Annelinde Metzner, used her experience as a compose and arranger to make videos using Garage Band and I-Movies, with rehearsals and recordings on Zoom. “We Are Lights” (The Chanukah Song) is a song for Chanukah that their choir performed in December 2021, with lyrics by Steve Young, music by Stephen Schwartz, and a 2006 arrangement by Mac Huff. They have added their own photographs symbolizing “Light” which give the words poignancy. . .and inspired the rest of this blog post celebrating Chanukah with Christmas just 13 days away. . .
It is THE Season of Lights. . .
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
L I G H T
is always in Season.
I love stories,
especially ones that start out:
THE STORY IS TOLD. . .
that there were six people trapped by pure Chance in the darkest of darks and the coldest of colds– but not without a
G R E A T S O L U T I O N
Each person, all six of them, had a stick of wood. . .
SO THE STORY IS TOLD. . .
Their dying fire needed just one thing as they huddled around it:
L O G S !
One woman who had a stick wasn’t about to give hers up. As she shivered and huddled around that dying fire, that dimming light, she was able to see the faces huddled/shivering being illuminated and because one of those faces was black, there’s no way she was going to give up her stick to warm THAT face up.
There was another sitting around that dying fire and saw the face of the one who’s mouth talked about a God he didn’t quite believe, there’s no way he was going to give up his stick to warm THAT face who’s mouth talked of a different belief.
The third one sat there around that dying fire in tattered clothes and pulled the well worn coat closer and more secure around him as he muttered under his breath, “There ain’t no way I’m giving my stick to this fire to warm these highfalutin rich folks.”
There was a rich man who just sat and thought of the wealth he had in store, and how to keep what he had earned from all of these lazy, shiftless poor; he would not be giving up the stick he had rightly earned.
The black man’s face was frowned all up in revenge as he held on to his stick even while the fire was flickering its very last flame; no way he was giving up that stick to people who had oppressed and kept he and his ancestors down. It was the spite that made him hold that stick almost as a weapon; serves these white folks right to die of cold.
The last man in this group, shivering harder now in the barely glowing embers, firmly believed you give ONLY IF FIRST GIVEN TO, so his cold hands held his even colder stick and would stay that way since no one else was going to offer up their sticks.
THE STORY IS TOLD. . .
S I X L O G S . . .
Six Logs held by six different
UN-SHARING
people who died. . .
w h o
WOULD RATHER DIE
than to
S H A R E. . .
The Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm of the Season
is that they died not from the
Cold and the Dark
but something the much,
much worse:
The Cold and The Dark
I N S I D E
It is the Season of Lights. . .
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
L I G H T
is always in Season
A single little ember can Light a miracle. . .
There are many
CANDLE BLOWERS
OUT AND IN
T H E R E
Keep an inner Candle lit
so that the Miracle in your life
can find its way home again and not only
E N L I G T E N. . .
b u t
W A R M O T H E R S
along the way. . .
Eliminate
B R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R
from ever having a Season. . .
A n y
L I G H T
that Shines
not only illuminates a path
. . .It Warms a Heart
BE A SEASON OF LIGHT
(if not always–o f t e n)
(BETTER STILL: ONE THAT NEVER ENDS!)
BE AN EVERLASTING
LIFESTYLE OF
L I G H T
This is a story I first heard from the gifted storyteller Laura Packer. I can’t say where it originated. I keep retelling it in my own way, because the world keeps needing to hear it.
In the beginning, there was only light and dark. During the day, the sky was bright white. No clouds, no blue. Just white. At night, the sky was completely black. No stars, no moon. Just black. And because this was the way the world was, you always stayed home. If you were ever caught far from your village when the sky went dark, you were never heard from again.
So, folks lived their entire lives in the same place, with the same people. And while they said they were happy living this way, in their heart of hearts they longed to see what they couldn’t see, to meet the people they suspected were out there but couldn’t meet. Yet they accepted that this was how the world was and would always be.
Then a certain girl came into the world. And this girl loved the world so much! During the white-sky hours, she’d explore and play as she wandered with her mother, gathering food for the family. In the black-sky hours, she’d listen to her father’s stories about the sights he saw while hunting around the village.
Each night, before she fell asleep, she’d say to her mother, “Mama, I want to visit other places. Please, will you take me? Can we go?”
And every night, her mother would say, “Oh, honey—we can’t! It isn’t safe. The world’s too dark. We’d get lost and never return!”
But you know how children are—how their dreams can creep into your heart and become your dreams too. So one night, when the girl asked, for the gazillionth time, “Mama, can we go? Please?” the woman said, “I’ll think about it.”
And she did. She thought for days as she gathered grasses and roots and berries to eat. She thought as she sat talking with the other women and as she listened to her husband’s stories. She thought as she wove reeds into baskets and thatched the roof of their house.
Then one night, while sitting with her family, gazing into the fire, she had an idea.
She got up and mixed water and clay. She made a pot from the mud. Then she made a lid for the pot. She placed these things in the fire and baked them until they were as hard as stone.
When the fire began to die out, she scooped up a potful of embers and covered it with the lid. She then lay down beside her daughter.
“Mama, can we go? Can we go?” the girl asked.
“I’m still thinking,” the mother said.
In the morning, the woman lifted the lid to look inside the pot. The embers were still glowing red. So that night when her daughter said, “Please, Mama, please—are you done thinking? Can we go?” the woman said, “Yes, in the morning we will go.”
As soon as the sky was white again, the mother and daughter packed up as much food and water as they could carry. They said their goodbyes. Then the woman took up her pot full of embers, and the two of them started walking.
They walked and they walked until the sky started to turn black. They stopped then and collected a pile of twigs and sticks. The mother poured out her embers on them. Soon they had a blazing fire. And when the sky was black-black, they sat around their fire, huddled as close as they could. From the darkness beyond their little ring of light came the growls and the howls of prowling animals. Just before they fell asleep, the mother put some live coals from the fire into her pot.
They woke up when the sky was white again. The woman dropped a few twigs into the pot to feed the embers. Then she and her daughter began to walk under the white-white sky. They sang and they told stories.
Just before the world went black-black again, they built another fire. They huddled close, listening to the night sounds and watching the sparks fly up.
Then the woman had an idea.
With the pot lid, she scooped up some coals from the fire. Then she flung them toward the sky, as far as she could. She was very strong, and those embers flew higher and higher until they stuck fast in the black.
And it was very good.
So the woman tossed up another lid-full of embers, this time back in the direction of their village. And those embers also stuck to the black.
Now her daughter wanted to try. Even she could send those embers flying. Before long, the way home was twinkling over half the sky.
Morning after morning, the mother and daughter continued their journey. And every night, they would cast more embers up into the sky, which was still black-black yet now sparkling as it never had before. The mother and daughter knew they’d never get lost.
After weeks of walking, they reached a village. The people there were astonished to see them.
“How did you get here?” they asked. “How did you not vanish in the dark nights?”
And the woman and her daughter showed the villagers the pot of coals. As soon as the world went black, they pointed out the path they had taken across the night sky.
“Throw some embers from your fires into the sky,” the woman told the villagers.
“Here,” her daughter said, “use the lid of our pot.”
And the villagers did.
The next day, the mother and daughter moved on. As they went, they always painted a shimmering path above them. And everywhere they went, they taught the people they met how to toss embers from their fires into the night sky.
So it is that we learned to light the way home for one another.
May I live this day
Compassionate of heart,
Clear in word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in love.
JOHN O’DONOHUE
Excerpt from ‘Matins’ in his books, Benedictus (Europe) /
To Bless the Space Between Us (US)
Stained for good
Jagged uneven pieces
Discarded for garbage
Hardly pieces of art
Until the Light
Explodes me instantaneously
To a panoramic brilliance of beams
That eyes can only merely see
But souls understand
experience
Creating me
STAINED FOR GOOD
Assuring
that even a space
that once held a tinged altarpiece
still lets in Light
S c a r e d ?
E v e r ?
I remember I didn’t sleep so well as a little kid,
hmmmmmmmmmmm,
s t i l l d o n ‘ t. . .
When I laid in bed at night,
l a t e,
when everyone else and the World
was sleeping, i
t was then I’d see them:
S H A D O W S
Now we all don’t know what
T H E S H A D O W K N O W S,
do we?
. . .but we do know
M O R E !
We know that the SHADOW
can never hurt us,
in fact,
can only really ever bother,
bug,
pester us
when we not so much allow it entrance,
but actually be the Key-Keeper to our imagination. . .
I d i d. . .
I made it real easy for the Shadow. . .
I not only gave it a key,
I took the door off it’s hinges. . .
Every night. . .
until that night;
That night was different. . .
That night after everyone was sound asleep
and I lay there awake,
I saw THE SHADOW again. . .
G U L P
We were staring each other down;
I could swear I saw it move,
taunting me,
making fun of me and I knew right then,
very clearly I had three solid choices:
1) I c o u l d S c r e a m
2) I c o u l d R u n
3) I c o u l d t r y t o m a k e i t t o m y p a r e n t s r o o m. . .
. . .and then,
the L i g h t i n g hit!
Literally,
the Lightning from a Summer-middle-of-the-night-storm,
lit up the room
and every time it did it
T H E S H A D O W
would disappear. . .
Yet,
O P T I O N N U M B E R 4
was the best one of all:
Shadow’s actually need light to make a Shadow
and LIGHT is what obliterates them. . .
I became a SHADOW-THROWER that night,
and every night since. . .
. . .Amazing how little the Shadow knows
. . .or ever did. . .
Even more Amazing,
how much we do and will. . .
If________________. . .
Pay A T T E N T I O N, Class:
Bring your Light
to Some One’s Shadow–
It ceases to exist. . .
Now,
T H A T ‘ S P O W E R
and it’s
Y O U R ‘ S
to yield. . .
or worse yet,
n o t. . .
N i g h t
The FORECASTS
are now becoming
NOW CASTS
and it’s freezing
l i t e r a l l y
with the high being a balmy -1 below zero
NOT COUNTING THE WIND CHILL. . .
and it on the cellular level has huge consequences
that we hopefully will never have to experience
but maybe need to understand any way
Here we are bracing for their coldest temperatures in decades today and the rest of this week with conditions predicted to feel like 50 degrees below zero or colder in areas of the Dakotas, Minnesota and Iowa, . Temperatures in Chicago are also predicted to dip below negative 25 for the first time since the mid-1980s, AccuWeather says.
Health officials have warned residents to stay indoors as much as possible, since the brutal cold in just minutes. But what actually happens to your body in the frigid air? TIME asked Dr. Ronald Furnival, a pediatric emergency physician and a professor at the University of Minnesota Medical School.
Almost as soon as you step outside, your body starts to siphon blood flow away from your extremities to focus on keeping your brain and internal organs warm. That’s why your fingers, toes and ears tend to get cold before your core, Furnival says.
“The blood vessels would start to contract and reduce blood flow” to areas including the face, ears, nose and fingers as a “defense mechanism” against extreme cold, Furnival says.
For most people, at least in the short-term, this adjustment is pretty harmless. But Furnival says people with preexisting heart conditions may be at risk of complications associated with these blood pressure changes, especially if they try to do strenuous outdoor activity like shoveling snow.
In extreme cold, frostbite — or the freezing of skin and underlying tissues — can start to set in after just five to 15 minutes outside, Furnival says. The process can be especially quick if your skin is wet, or if you’re not properly covered up with hats, gloves and boots, in addition to warm clothing.
“Exposed extremities and digits and things can get frostbite fairly quickly,” Furnival says. “If there’s a strong wind and the weather’s pretty cold and the windchill is pretty low, then it goes a lot faster.” Risk of frostbite intensifies whenever the temperature drops below five degrees Fahrenheit, according to the Mayo Clinic, and becomes especially pronounced when cold and wind cause temperatures to fall below negative 16.6 degrees.
While mild to moderate frostbite can be reversed with warm water and blankets, severe frostbite can lead to permanent or long-lasting damage in the affected area. Signs of frostbite include a prickling feeling, followed by numbness and changes in the skin’s color and appearance. It may turn pale, red or blue, or take on a waxy look, according to the Mayo Clinic.
Furnival says signs of hypothermia, or a core body temperature that falls below 95 degrees, can surface after just 30 minutes to an hour in frigid temperatures.
“You start to have some decrease in your central temperature, so you can have some mild hypothermia to moderate hypothermia develop,” Furnival says. “People might start to feel confused and start to slur their words and start to have some neurologic changes. Some of the central core organs might be affected, so they might have problems with rapid heart rate and even worsening of the extremities, if blood flow is further reduced to those extremities.”
Furnival says individuals with preexisting medical conditions and children, who have less insulation, are at particular risk. But everybody, even otherwise healthy adults, should be aware of these dangers and take appropriate precautions, Furnival says.
“Cover up as well as you can with hats and gloves and mittens and boots and warm clothing, and then limit your exposure outside,” he recommends. “It’s okay to go outside, but you have to prepare for it, and you have to be coming in periodically to warm back up.”
Brutal Cold. . .
But is it the worst kind of
C O L D
experienced. . . ?
. . .Maybe the worst
the most
B R U T A L K I N D O F C O L D
comes from us
A L L
W H O H O L D
T H E L I G H T
W H O C O N T A I N S
T H E W A R M T H
and actually refuses to share it
or only shares it
with a
s e l e c t e d f e w
Can it be
T H A T
s i m p l e
o r
T H A T
d i f f i c u l t. . .
Maybe with the
C O L D
it’s not so much time to
B U N D L E U P
but a true opportunity to
O P E N U P
TO ALL
FOR ALL
BECAUSE OF ALL
Write to Jamie Ducharme at jamie.ducharme@time.com.
