Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

I don’t have a date for when it happened—recently, I think—when we stopped being strangers far apart and became a new kind of family, but a valuable and loving one. We didn’t need to be together to stay in touch.

It had something to do with Mr. Trump, the Army of Good, and the bitter divisions that keep chewing up our country.  I needed some good to be grounded.

Maybe the flowers had something to do with it: my spiritual turn, therapy, or great fortune in loving Maria and learning that she loved me. That opened me up like a can of tuna fish. So, I have wonderful friends on my weekly Readers Blog. I was looking for humanity on the Internet. It was there all the time.

Maybe that was it, finally learning to love and attract other people who wanted more family in their lives also. I bitched and moaned for years about the cruel and nasty messages I got, but the odd thing is that I’m hardly ever getting them anymore. They were a gift; they taught me to shed anger as a part of my life and my past. It was doing me no good.

Either they changed, or I changed, or I learned that my anger was not my friend, and I had to deal with that before I could have any family. The trolls have fled; there is nothing for them to see.

I hardly know any people who read my blog; they are scattered everywhere, which is lovely for a blog or blogger who makes a living mostly on his blog. My transition from book publishing to self-publishing has been successful, and it is one of the best decisions I have made in my life.

I don’t know what drew me to the blog. Perhaps it was the idea of connecting with good people. As some of you might remember, I was pretty alone and lonely. I’m not anymore. Maria was one huge stop; the blog was another. My photography is yet another, as are my dogs and cat.

I am receiving enormous affirmations, thoughts, support, understanding, and helpful criticism, all of which have helped me heal, mature, learn, and change.

My Hero Journey never seems to end, which tells me what a mess I was and am.  Many of you are Magical Helpers. Joseph Campbell wrote about what people encounter on their Hero Journeys.

You have all helped me heal, learn who I was, and open many doors in my life. Thank you, Army of Good;  you keep hope alive. And thanks to everyone else; you help keep me alive and learning. My flowers are one way to thank you; they are all for you, and you will never have to pay.

On my 77th  birthday, I realize now what it took me a long time to see…I understand that I got one of the best birthday presents is right right here; I got it without getting off of my butt.

You.

Poor things, you are stuck with me. You are my family now.

Thanks. You are more welcome here than you can imagine.