Last week we sat here together preparing for tropical storm Hilary to dump a lot of water on Southern California, which she did; and we got a little earthquake as a bonus. Whether the storm lived up to all the hype I’m not here to debate, but it was wise, I think, that we prepared for it nonetheless. And I think we did a good job preparing. Cities issued safety warnings and handed out sandbags. KFI was all hands on deck because we knew you were listening and counting on us to move through it with you. Family members were checking in on each other. Neighbors were more neighborly. If you had to make a last minute run to a store you likely found both customers and cashiers were a little more sensitive, a little more patient, a little more helpful and kind.I know it’s weird to say it this way but I’ll trust you understand my meaning … that’s my favorite part about natural disasters—the sense of community and perspective they bring—so much so that I almost wish we had more of them.I think we live such presumptuously insulated lives—such prosperous and entitled lives—that we usually have nothing better to do than sit around and obsess about the slightest inconveniences, the smallest bumps in the road, the most trivial of offenses. It’s as if fair weather and clear skies gives us permission to descend into selfish pettiness and become the worst versions of ourselves.So yes, I like it when nature steps in and occasionally serves up a good dose of reality. When the wind blows hard enough or the rain on the roof gets loud enough to make us take our eyes off our screens and actually look outside. I like it when nature overwhelms our numbness and punctures the thin facades of our “deeply held beliefs.” I like it when nature calls us all to account and doesn’t give us enough time to hate. When someone needs to be rescued from a burning building or a flooded river, or a smashed up car, thank god there’s no time to check if they are rich or poor, red or blue, straight or gay, or any number of the million other idiotic issues we use to separate ourselves from one another when the sun is shining.So I don’t get any hate mail about this let me be crystal clear: I don’t like natural disasters. I don’t want anyone to be put in harm’s way. I just like how we are when they happen. It’s as if it takes a storm outside of us to quiet the storm raging inside us. Whatever it is, it brings out in most of us the better angels of our nature. Angels that I’d like to see far more often.Today the sun is shining here in Southern California. It’s going to be a warm one. Not too unusual for late August. So if your AC is working and you’ve got some water then you’ll be fine today. Nothing much to contend with so I guess that means we’re all free to return to being the petty squabbling and thoroughly annoying lesser versions of ourselves. Or, we could remember that even on sunny days life is still short and difficult and in their own unique way everyone you meet is fighting their own epic battle. So today, even in the sunlight, we could, if we wanted to, choose to be a first responder to the human condition. We could choose to not judge, not litmus test, not hate, and instead just be kind.I wish that was everyone’s greatest aspiration in life. Of all the things in the world you can be, be kind. Just think of what a world we would live in if the one thing we were always trying out best to be was kind. It’s a sunny day in Southern California. The only disaster we’re likely to see is our return to selfishness. Or we could choose the better angels and show a little kindness to someone else who is trying so very hard to build themselves a beautiful life.