Go get your Nina Simone. Or Etta James. Or Otis Redding. You know. THAT album. Turn off that outer space soundtrack that you have been zoning to. Put on some cologne or perfume. Open the curtains and let the sun stream in. Find yourself a beam with dust motes dancing. Plant your feet on the ground. Close your eyes. Sway if you want to. Hum or sing along. Remember all the people you have Really, really loved
