A church house, gin house, A school house, outhouse On highway number nineteen, The people keep the city clean. - Tina Turner

I like reading the comments on my online accounts as much as anyone. But I also know there is a lot of toxicity online, and many people aren’t as kind to others in the virtual world as my fans are to me. Commonplace distortions in the online world — with manipulated images and selective sharing that shows people enjoying a seemingly carefree, “perfect” life — are an unhealthy influence on the mind, especially young minds. From the priorities I see being valued online today, and in the media in general, it’s no wonder that many people think that aspiring to be a billionaire is the most important thing in the world. It’s no wonder people feel increasingly divided and lonely. In reality, what we need most right now are legions of billionaires of the heart, multitudes of masters of the mind, and models of peace, equality, and unity in diversity. That, in my opinion, is what upcoming generations need to see. I hope that, somehow, in the near future, the various technological poisons that society is facing can be turned into healing medicine. At the moment, the best solution is to simply spend less time on our phones, tablets, and computers and more time with each other, with real human beings, face-to-face, heart-to-heart. When I’m at home with Erwin, we make it a point not to get distracted by phones at mealtimes. Not that screens and devices are the only culprits. I often find it hard to tear myself away from the book I’m reading — I know you can relate if you love to read as much as I do. But I resist, because no novel can compare to sharing time with my dear partner. I know that the last thing anyone ever wants to do is think about death, but as someone who has faced my own mortality time and again, I am all too aware that life is short and can end at any moment. Being always aware of the limited time we have here on Earth, and making the most of it, for the good of all, is also a part of my spiritual practice.

It hurts to have to remember those times, but at a certain stage forgiveness takes over. Forgiving means not to hold on. You let it go, because it only hurts you. Not forgiving, you suffer, 'cause you think about it over and over again. And for what? I had an abusive life, there's no other way to tell the story, it's a reality, it's a truth. That's what you've got. So you have to accept it.

I had witnessed the circle of life and death in nature, where plants and animals came and went in their own time. And I had heard about deaths in our community, young and old people, dying in all sorts of circumstances. But this time it was very personal. After Margaret died, there was a lot of talk about God's will. Our community was deeply Baptist, after all, and that was a natural response to the sudden tragedy that killed her and a few other young people, including my half sister Evelyn (my mother's child from a previous relationship). Thinking about the mysteries of life and death, I didn’t have a problem with the concept of an underlying universal force. But the idea of a bearded old white man in space, monitoring activities here on Earth, felt unrelatable and just plain unreal. I couldn't verbalize my own vision of God then, as the vocabulary hadn't come to me yet. But from the youngest age I can recall, I knew I could experience "Godliness" in Mother Nature. Something told me I had a piece of God in my heart, even if the traditional beliefs of my family and the way they practiced religion weren't right for me. I wished they practiced what they preached and lived more positive lives.