I’ve never been comfortable with New Year’s wishes, I’ve always preferred to come up with an annual New Year’s Fantasy, it seems more practical to me and less delusional.

Fantasies soothe the soul, but by definition they are not real. When I was a kid, my fantasies usually involved me being a cavalry officer on a big horse riding out to save people from danger. That didn’t happen, of course.

So because they are not real, fantasies are usually   safe. But this year I came up with one that could be real.

I got clear on this year’s fantasy during my Healing Hour yesterday afternoon, Bud was snoring in my lap, it was quiet and peaceful.  A good way to think.

In my fantasy, I got tired of all the arguing, so I decided to run for President. And I won, to everyone’s surprise. My fantasy skipped over the campaigning, the primaries, the Super Pacs, the reporters, the banal quotes.

I think I have the ego for the Presidency, but not the skills or temperament, although maybe none of that matters any more.

My fantasy skipped to my life in the White House. I had a Twitter following of more than 50 million people, a parting gift from my predecessor. In the morning, I woke up, had my breakfast in bed and then walked into a tiny office and turned on my computer. I use my smartphone a lot, but for this, I wanted the Mac desktop.

I signed on and went to work.

My first act was to ask my Twitter followers to agree to participating in one good deed a day, one small act of great kindness. My staff and I would locate one worthy and needy person or family or small business in troble. They would be in a different state each day, we would move across the country with our beam of light.

We would ask my 50 plus million followers to contribute to helping this person or cause. The only criterion was that the person be an American. Any color, any political leaning, left or right, male or female, young or old, white or brown or yellow or black.

They just had to be good people needing help urgently.

It might be a family whose house had burned down, a wife whose police officer husband was killed in the line of duty, the bereaved partner of a soldier killed in combat, the family of a sick child with staggering medical bills,  a young mom who needed a new car to get to work, a  refugee family in need of college tuition money for their bright daughter, a family stricken by gun violence in Chicago or anywhere else, a man seriously injured in a car crash and in great medical debt.

We could help a person caught in a real estate crash keep her home, or send abused or traumatized kids to Disney World for a couple of weeks. We could help an underfunded teacher get modern technology for her classroom, we could help an elderly man get new underwear and shoes.

It could be anything really.

There were these iron clad rules about my Twitter Feed: no arguing, no politics, no self-promotion, no whining or complaining, no insulting people. With that kind of audience, my Twitter Feed could instantly become an enormous engine for good. Think about it.

It could only be used for good. I could fight all day long elsewhere. The more I thought about this fantasy, the more I liked it.

Look what we’ve done off my blog and Facebook Page these past few years, just imagine what the Army Of Good could do with 50 million followers.

In fact, the Army Of Good, which is now in every state of the Union, could help nominate needy and worthy people for help. We have it all in place.

In my fantasy, I was delighted to see that my Twitter Feed was soaring in followers. People love to get up, as I did, and see this good news.  And get the chance to do good.

My idea was that this feed could be used to unite people, and never to divide them.

It would be a groundbreaking fusion of politics with compassion, and done properly, it could help unite people. Almost everyone wants to do some good. We didn’t do the left or right thing, we were all Americans on my feed.

We would be seeking or spending government money, people could contribute regularly or once in a while or never. No pressure.

We could make all these gifts tax-deductible within limits.

How wonderful to see how the people we help as Americans put their lives back together – we could follow-up – from the trauma and sickness and tragedy and difficulty that life can bring.

It would be profoundly exciting for me, and perhaps for many others to channel this powerful new tool for good. To be the source of good and nourishing news  rather than conflict and rage.

I like this fantasy, it works for me. And the odd thing about it, is that it could so easily be true. There is nothing in this fantasy that couldn’t happen in 15 minutes, and for free.