after dunking stale cake mini donuts into hot mocha coffee this morning for breakfast, i stood in the rain and talked to myself/god, depending on what you believe about me and/or god. most people who love me know approximately what i mean by “god” (what scientists refer to as the “empty space” inside atoms and what mathematicians refer to as “infinity”) and others judge me as blasphemous or mush-brained (depending on your context for god-related judgment) since i believe equally in magic and miracles and dark humor and dark matter and poetry and psychology and buddhism and ayahausca ceremonies, which means that when i converse with god, i’m conversing with myself (sometimes out loud) or with you or with the wind or with the forest protecting me from the rain and/or sun or with the spirit of my great-great-great grandmother who put all her kids except the youngest on a boat that sailed from germany to the unites states a couple generations before hitler started killing jews but a couple generations after my ancestors had been hungry poor. today god and i discussed my moving to ithaca, new york, because i’ve been here for several days and i don’t want to leave, which means i better leave quickly or else i’ll stay for good. god and i debated the pros and cons of my living in ithaca. i argued the pros. god argued the cons. god won. god always wins our debates because i assign the wisest part of me to god and i’d have to be stupidly unwise if i tried to beat the wisest part of me (and/or god). so, i’m coming home in the next 48 hours because if i don’t, i’ll stay, and ithaca is too small for me and much too cold in the winter. plus, people look at me funny because i call everyone “sweetie” and even though most people living in texas don’t think i speak with a texan accent, everyone outside of texas instantly notes (and comments upon) my accent. the reasons i want to move to ithaca are the trees, the state parks, the chipmunks, the coffee, the swimming hole at the foot of a waterfall, and the feeling of being in the best part of ireland when i’m hiking in the endless forests surrounding this town. please come to ithaca. drink the coffee. hike through forests full of chipmunks and trees you can’t name. dive off the diving board and swim beneath the waterfall. breathe clean air. visit the part of my spirit i’m leaving behind for you to find beneath the tree that turned itself into a leafy cave at the top of the highest hill. please find me here. learn more about me and more about you through experiencing this place. talk to me inside your head or to yourself or to god or let all three be the same thing while you stand in the gentle rain with chipmunks flirting their nose-twitching hop-along tail-bouncing good morning to you.