Let me be imperfectly blunt

ya mungduggits

We’re all fools.

(ya mungduggits!)¹

Each and every one of us.

We’re perfectly imprefect.

What was it he said that old hippie?

Let ye among you without farts get the most stonned?

Something like that.

This foolsletter is a bit of a different take on that old story.

How can we give ourselves and each other permission to be more like ourselves. All the parts of ourselves. The sweet and the salty. The bravery and the bunions. The broth and the farts. Judge not lest ye be Judy. Or Wapner. People in glass houses likely hold bongs.

All that stuff.

Sometimes, we’re unwilling to see the folly in others and can only see it in ourselves.

Other times we can see it in others, but miss big parts of our limited, irrational, imperfect selves.

This is a message that I want to see spread. When we can acknowledge and embrace our own limitations we’ll have more room for the rest of those dummies out there who are limited in their own uniquely irritating and inspiring ways.

So, in a couple of more days - on Februa…