Happy happy Stevie Wonder Day! I worked so much today that I was tempted to let his birthday pass without mention. Then I realized: Not honoring his birthday would be downright disrespectful. For in his music and message of love, he generously godparents all of us who need raising. With intergalactic expertise and joy and innovation, he has for six decades created beautiful shared space with a brilliant disregard for form, format or obstacles. More than that, he’s offered a flawless model of how the Divine Feminine need not be channeled by a female body (cis- or otherwise). For in his body (of work) thrives the radical receptivity, creativity, and limitless loving-kindness of Venus. Even his saddest songs hold us—maybe hold us best—and always always he reminds us that there is more beauty to be found, laughter to spill, solace to be shared. In this moment of great upheaval, he is one of the greatest living channels we still have–one that’s forever lifting us to higher ground rather than leading us by the nose. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Listen to “All is Fair in Love” and try not to cry. Actually, do cry. Because when Stevie offers that level of communion, it’s ungrateful to refuse it.
All hail Ella Fitzgerald, who would have turned 103 today and whose practical magic we all need. Hard-working and ever-radiant, Lady Fitzgerald was a true Taurus goddess who never wallowed in despair no matter how rough life could be. Instead, she dove into those hard places and brought us all back up with her, channeling them only to deepen the joy that rang in her every song. With Ella, there were never “too many notes” because her spirit knew no bounds. So if you’re feeling blue on this Saturday spring night—and who among us is not?—put her on your emotional turntable. Soon enough you’ll look like Dizzy in this picture—swooning over her peony-explosion of a voice, the spring eternal in her scat.
I’m sitting with Grace by the window in a treasure trove of sunlight and clouds–of white fur and pleather cubes, and a sapphire velvet chaise lounge draped with blue-flowered and animal-printed pillows and throws. Joni is spilling over both of us and I’m trying to figure out which of us—me, Grace, maybe even Joni–fashioned this little alcove. The question fills me with more pleasure than the morning already has. Which is a lot, actually.
It sounds ridiculous, suggesting my cat arranged fabrics and furniture to create this robin’s egg dreamscape by the window. Can’t you see her dragging everything in her cunning little teeth? But if she didn’t actively arrange this child’s dream turned inside out, she certainly inspired it with her perfectly composed paws, her caramel stripes and gleaming eyes. With how she absorbs and exudes beauty.