Tuesday, January 21st was a dark gray 12° day here in NJ. A heavy haze of cold damp air was pressing up against the piles of snow that surrounded the house.

The walls were slowly closing in, and I was crawling out of my skin. Sitting at the table, I realized that my leg was shaking, and my heart was breaking.

The fate of all of the birthright children that I teach is hanging in the balance. My trans/queer/non-binary family and friends are being targeted. And did Elon Musk really throw up a nazi salute?

I had to log off and get out of the house, so I decided to go to the supermarket for ‘just a few things’ that would probably end up costing over $100. Luckily, that will be changing soon, thanks to tariffs or something./s

So there I was in ShopRite, slowly walking down the aisles in search of some naturally sweet foods to fill the giant sugar-cube-shaped hole in my soul. As I walked past the pickled beets I found myself mouthing the words to the song that was coming from the overhead speakers. Yes, I am at that age. Supermarket music is my jam.

As I whispered the lyrics, I noticed an older woman, in her 70s, heading toward me, also whispering along. She had a little shimmy in her shoulders.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at her and we started singing together. Then I started dancing and singing a bit louder. She let go of her cart and began dancing with me. We both raised our arms in the air, moving and spinning. And then she grabbed me by the arm and started laughing.

‘We gotta find joy wherever we can,’ I said, as I laughed along.
‘Mmmm hmm,’ she replied emphatically, ‘Yes ma’am, we certainly do!’

We continued our song and dance, and a man with a big colorful scarf walked up and joined in. We all sang:

‘Let love shine
And we will find
A way to come together,
it can make things better…’

When the song ended, we each bopped on down the aisle pushing our carts, with a little bit of unexpected joy in our hearts.