Jed Wolf

As women, people of color and/or members of the LGBTQ community navigating “isms” and phobias, if we survive, we’re suited to leadership roles.

Transformative opportunities meet us daily but these days I’m not feeling up to them.

Likely to avoid shopping, taking walks or answering the phone in these reclusive moods, when the weight’s too heavy to soldier on, the last thing I want to do is talk with others who might offer advice or suggest I’m depressed.

Last evening after binge watching four episodes of “Shitt’s Creek” on Netflix, Dave and I emerged into the dark to take a needed walk around our little circle. We barely made past two houses when neighbors who we’d not met pulled up to their new house.

I cannot say enough good things about Eugene Levy and his son Daniel’s brilliant show. Though I found the first few episodes annoying, perhaps because I’m often moody and impatient like one of the main characters, I now find Shitts Creek hilarious and healing.

Each character’s idiosyncrasies are real. From designer clothes and beer bellies to nebulous sexually, the sensitive writing is genius, the acting perfect and the lessons of each episode, subtle.

Last night in my dark neighborhood, despite my bottomless mood, I stepped up to our new neighbors and introduced myself, and my husband boldly, wearing boxer shorts.