First of all, I’m so grateful for the life I’ve been able to lead during the Pandemic. I’ve seen families that didn’t have much of what I had. I could afford to have my food delivered. My company immediately announced they weren’t making any changes in employment during all of this, so I didn’t have to worry about that as many did. I live in a gated community and had a great place to hike when going out wasn’t an option.I found myself at first thinking of the fun things we could do. So I bought a paint by numbers.90 days later, it sits here 90% complete :) It’s really cool, and fun and meditative, but it didn’t draw me enough to finish it.I started working around the new house. Re arranged my garage virtually every weekend. I set up my work bench. I haven’t done any work yet, but it’s ready when I start woodworking.My wife Kay and I recognized early on that, as James has said, nothing will ever be the same.And we had a couple of moments where we had to tear the covers way, way back on our relationship. We realized that hardly ever did we discuss our hopes and dreams. We immediately got on the hamster wheel and caught that ride for 38+ years.There is nothing I’ve experienced ever that will test a relationship like a quarantine. Once the novelty was over, the emperor was wearing no clothes. And neither was the Empress. And that’s not as cool as it sounds :) I am so proud of how Kay and I are moving through this. I’m proud of myself. We admitted early on that we knew we loved each other. But we also knew that there was so much we still needed to learn about each other. We were willing even to accept that one possible outcome was that we weren’t meant to be together.I can only tell you now, in hindsight, how important all the love and teachings from James and others over the past 5+ years have helped me. I have so many more lessons to learn (well, I guess I don’t really know how many more I have, but I know I’m not done). But I can feel the ones I’ve learned....spiritually, physically, emotionally, mentally. I can still be a jerk. But I catch myself faster. And I recognize it. I have felt closer to nature. I’ve had conversations with Hummingbirds (which is not a new event). I’ve gotten myself into a meditation routine and practice that seems so right for me. I have to get up a lot earlier, but I can feel the difference.Reading has always been a huge part of my life. But now I’m reading everything. And things I never really read or understood before. Poetry, essays, I think I even understood a paragraph written by Ram Dass :)And then, just as we were starting to figure our way around mask rules, and stay at home rules and whether or not we could catch the virus from In N Out Burger, things turned really ugly.  The George Floyd murder and everything since in the country. It hit very hard. And I had to figure out why it hit me so hard. It wasn’t surprising that it did, but the reasons (over and above abhorring racist acts) weren’t too clear.It did bring my Mom to mind quite a bit. She was a hippy. 28 years old in 1968 (I was 11). By then she’d been married for years to my step-father, Frank Martinez. From my earliest memories, there were multiple people in the house, family and friends, that didn’t all look alike, I know that’s not unique, but it was my life. After Frank, she married Danny, a black man.  And we were constantly poor. Never homeless, but depended on a lot of help.None of this means I didn’t experience the advantages of white privilege. No matter how I got to a particular place in my life,  I’m convinced the road would not have been as attainable for most people of color.So, I thought a lot about my mom ( during the early stages of the pandemic. ) How she seemed so color blind. Or gender blind. The first time I ever met a person of color, a gay man, a lesbian, a transgender, a transsexual....each time was with my Mom. And almost every time it was around the little table in the kitchenette of our apartment. Often someone she had met at a bar or working graveyard in the newly exploding microchip industry. My Mom was in some ways, so far ahead of her time. But in many ways, while she was alive, it never seemed like the time she was living in was her time.Back to Covid. Obviously, there was a lot going on during this time. And writing seemed to be where all (my) thoughts and energy went. I wrote a lot of things. I wrote a poem about a woman I saw on TV. I started a play, or a concept of a play. I wrote to my Mom, and to my Dad.I wrote stories, essays, the chorus to a song about the quarantine. I even wrote a couple of letters to the editor and one even got published!And something else has happened. As I’ve started recognizing who I really am inside, this aspect is coming out more. In fascinating ways. I seem to be attracting people into my life now that I don’t believe I would have connected with before.Do you remember that car ride at Disneyland?  The one you’d go in with your parent and they’d let you hold the steering wheel?They could, because there were rails, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t crash the car. And at first, at a very young age, I’d try to steer the car. I’d grip on to the wheel and try not to hit the rails. But once I discovered I’d hit the rails and still keep going.....I took my hands off the wheel (and) experienced the joy of Disney’s version of “being divinely guided”.Daily, through everything I’ve learned about myself,  through the work I’ve done with James over the years,  I am  truly starting to love and respect myself for who I really am, I’m able to take my hands off the wheel.It’s constantly frightening. And my hands are only a whisper away from the wheel. But they’re not controlling it. And (in) those moments when I keep my hands off (cause I still grip it a lot), the adult is starting to feel that same joy I did as a child.As I move through this pandemic, I’m so ready to hug my twin granddaughters, to take my wife to dinner without worrying about her lungs, to see a movie in the theater with friends.And it hasn’t all been awesome, enlightening, spiritually satisfying, etc. There’ve been times where I’ve been an ass. That I had so much anger it was acting as hands over my eyes. I couldn’t see what was in front of me. I’ve yelled. I’ve lied. I’ve appropriated other peoples pain.But I haven’t given up on myself because of any of that.  Because I’ve also been more loving. I’ve laughed more. I’ve cried a whole lot more. I’ve “seen”people more. I’ve “heard” people more rather than just listening. I don’t feel the pit in my stomach every morning and every night any more. I’m not judging myself as much. And surprise, it’s helped me be less judgmental.