We carved out a silent space for Middle Bear. Tomorrow we retreat to mostly a virtual week and the sofa wasn’t cutting it any longer. While a bit more serene down here, I am not convinced it will be less of a distraction. The black squirrels are congregating on our grounds, maybe we are simply more aware of them. They leap from oak to oak, race along the pavers with all the bounty that tumbled from the branches in the previous season. It’s a grand ‘ole time for them. How did we as a humanity get to such a disgraceful state and yet all sentient beings that follow the laws of nature appear more than equipped for the future. We don’t have much time. I’m stepping out of the silent space, I can’t go along with the general, not that my spirit ever did, but now that the oppressed are cultivating diverse thinking that not only has foolishly diminished but the drive to overregulate forges on to the point of the one main narrative or else. At this point our silence is a choice, an emphatic denial of our own responsibilities. Be independent. Be courageous. “Go out and tell our story, let it echo far and wide. Make them hear you…sometimes there are battles that are not black and white,” -Ragtime. It’s now or never to re-establishing ourselves in our sovereignty because it certainly won’t be served to us on a silver platter.