The other night, our power went out for no discernible reason. I sat in the dark trying to come up with one, like a good Democrat. I mean, if there were mitigating circumstances, like a lack of unconditional love and security during its childhood as a little flicker, I could feel a little compassion for it. But it was not windy or icy or challenging in any way, and I had to conclude our power was just being an asshole, because sometimes that’s the only explanation.

I didn’t know what to do, so I went outside and kicked a cat. Put a righteous boot to it, I did. I bounced the thing. The cat landed about three feet in front of me and turned back and said mowr in a very disappointed tone.

That was the whole point of going outside. If I had to be in the dark, I wanted to be outside proper where the night was supposed to live and not indoors where it wasn’t. There was a bunch of night out there, more than usual. The streetlights were out. The house lights were out. The moon was not out. This cat was out. I didn’t mean to kick the cat. I didn’t see the cat. And now it was sitting on the sidewalk in front of me going mowr. The cat was thinking: I saw you coming a block away. I watched you walk right up to me. I thought you would stop and go “Aww” and reach down and scritch my tail. Instead you popped me right into the air. What is wrong with you? Are you okay?

I scritched its tail.

And then I thought: What a wonderful thing, to live life in such a trusting manner that you could watch someone barrel right into you from a block away, convinced you’re about to get a pet-pet and not a boot. That is the way we all should be. Open. Fearless. Dare I say, bouncy.

Most of us are afraid of a lot of things. Most of those things are silly. We’re afraid of flying in a plane but think nothing of careening down the freeway in a little tin can. We’re afraid vaccines aren’t healthy but we’ll hoover a bag of Cheetos for dinner. We are afraid of migrant farmworkers, and afraid of rising grocery prices. We are not sensible.

There’s no consistency to our fears, either. I am afraid of loud noises, and I am afraid of violence. But I’m not afraid of the huge earthquake they’ve penciled in for us, and I’m not afraid to join a crowd at the ICE facility and protest. Note that the earthquake is liable to be plenty loud and the ICE goons are liable to be plenty violent. We are galloping full tilt into an autocracy, complete with martial law and rigged elections and banned books and no First Amendment rights, plus all the trimmings, and we are likewise headed straight for an environmental apocalypse. I am appalled at the first and monumentally sad about the second, but I am not afraid.

It’s wise to be cautious when something is coming at you. But if fear paralyzes you into meek submission, you’ve lost without a fight. Sometimes you have to stand up and be counted, and sometimes you have to charge headlong into the dark. Or at least stand in the way if the darkness is barreling into you. Be not afraid. Be bouncy.