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image courtesy of BILLBOARD MAGAZINE

Surely it can’t be true. Hours after the news has broken that the artist known as a symbol and a name, Prince, died of complications from influenza I’m still in shock. I’m in a haze.

I don’t know if it is because of my cultural icons that were formative in my growing up years are leaving the planet, or if it is because I’m feeling my age, or if it is because we are a culture obsessed with anything BUT death, but I’m in a funk… and not the kind Prince and the Revolution played.

Have there ever been such gloriously true and radically welcomed words as these:

Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.

What a way to gather people. What an invitation to be who you are. What a simply perfect phrase to even out the playing field of the game of life.

Here we are, gathered on this bit of water and dirt in the grand design of this particular star system, beloved creatures, and we are to pull together to do this thing called life. To love, radically. To feed, generously. To hope, unabashedly.

For today, it was nice to hear Prince tunes and memories instead of the political nonsense. Today, we the beloved, gathered. And it was holy.