When Trump became president, my friend Gwen invited me over her house for an evening of social bomb making.

You read that correctly.

When I arrived she had a big dining room table full of envelopes, construction paper, pens, crayons, glitter, stickers, scissors, and some delicious snacks as well.

After some introductions and sharing of intentions, seven lighthearted change makers got to work. I provided the soundtrack, strumming and singing songs about the various notes that they were writing, decorating, and reading out loud.

Gwen called it a Love Bomb Making Party. The idea was to hit the streets, secretly planting the love letter bombs in assorted locations (car windshields, public bathrooms, the banana rack at supermarkets) for unsuspecting humans to pick up and get a detonated uplift while going about their busy lives.

The playfulness and colors on the envelopes made them look irresistible, and we held the intention that just the right person who needed the message would be the one to find and read it.

I myself got quite an energetic and emotional uplift from the evening. And I needed it.

Before that I had been participating in political conversations that left me feeling like I’ve just eaten too much junk food for my mental and emotional bodies.

I had been feeling sad about the latest waves of violence, especially the explosively violent divisive discourse the US had been experiencing in its polarized presidential campaign.

The love bomb party reminded me of what I choose to campaign for.

I used to think I was a pacifist, but there is nothing passive about me.

I am an activist, actively involved in the installation of a new vibration of playful celebration that makes a sense of separation take a permanent vacation and installs the sexy sensation of emancipation from all sense of limitation.

What can be done, then, fellow love activists? We can go to areas of extreme poverty and distress and drop love bombs from drones and planes filled with food and love notes, hand written in the language of the people we are love bombing. That’s just one idea. Our hearts are full of them.

Einstein said, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.”

Jesus said, “Resist not evil.”

Scott Grace said, “Enough quoting! Let’s drop some love bombs.”

I love my friend Gwen for being a love activist who did not nurture a sense of frustration or powerlessness when Trump won the election.

Instead, she threw a party. And handed out crayons.

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