NEW MORNING

I am grateful for a lot of things. I have a wonderful husband, a lovely daughter, a fab grandchild. We live in a little house full of art and books. We have a collection of authentic, thoughtful, funny and insightful friends. We have enough to eat, and mostly enough money to pay our bills. I have fine guitars to play, and bandmates who are kind humans and very talented players.

I recognize that I've enjoyed these blessings mostly because of the fortunate accident of my birth. I was born white and grew up in a middle class family in a neighborhood which was void of violence. I attended good schools, and graduated with an appreciation of art, literature, civics, and history. And I was born in a part of the world where I enjoy a number of rights.

I have always enjoyed the right to move about the country as I pleased – in my case, mostly for my musical adventures. I can freely travel abroad (if I have the money for a plane ticket!). I've exercised my right to protest when I feel the government is in the wrong. I've enjoyed the right to write and publish songs of a controversial nature. I cherish the right to my personal, unorthodox belief system. The American Dream, right?

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Stuff scared me when I was a kid. Noises in the night could affect me so strongly that I'd imagine/hallucinate the door of my bedroom closet slowly opening and closing. My childhood dreams were often scary. I had a recurring dream about being overpowered by something far bigger than me – a monster – from which I could not escape. I think childhood fears are common, as most everything is bigger than a kid. As I got older I had fewer and fewer scary dreams.

I think the change came as I began to realize my personal agency.

Along with my peers, I witnessed the civil rights struggles. In the 60s and 70s we began to protest: We protested against discrimination and the Vietnam war. We protested for the Equal Rights Amendment and environmental issues. And even though we didn't win all the battles, still, the war ended in Vietnam and the country got the Environmental Protection Agency. “Power to the People” was, in some ways, actualized.

But lately my dreams have turned dark again. Maybe it started around the time we saw airplanes fly into the skyscrapers of the World Trade Center? Maybe it had to do with a creeping awareness of the political/religious/nationalistic groups who would try limit the acts or aspirations of anyone who doesn't agree with them, and these types seem to be getting closer to actual political power?

These days my dreams are often filled with bad guys trying to break into our house. Or bad guys with guns walking up the sidewalk. Or ominous dark shadows lurking just outside a window in the night.

Monsters bigger than me.

So here I am. Here we are, dear friends. Seems we're at that part in our American Dream where we must recognize nightmares for what they are, and draw upon our personal agency to deal with them. Defeat them. We must say NO to the bad dreams in the night, and YES to a new, better morning. And as I'm sure you are . . . I am grateful for a new morning.