Greetings and happy New Year!

Folk rock singer songwriter Cat Stevens is what, as opposed to who, has sent me straight to the keyboard this morning. Stevens converted to Islam at the height of his fame in December 1977. If you will indulge me momentarily, I will get back to that. First this.

Last night an old New England friend emerged in my e-mail inbox. He is on the threshold of a potentially permanent relationship. But, he shares with me, he can’t quite get it OK enough that her particular lack of religion in no way equates all he has ever known or believes. Essentially, he is uncomfortable with the situation.

In the initial stages of a budding romance, most of us begin an evaluation ceremony. He’s smart but not good looking. She has a good sense of humor but is controlling. He’s charming but useless. She has everything I want except her children. You remember, don’t you? If you are single and are not sure you want to be, you repeat the process. That, however is irrelevant. Sorry. The question through time becomes this: Do the assets outweigh the liabilities? What can you not tolerate?

Since he apparently wanted feedback, I offered up to him my belief, which has emerged after a lifetime of my own sickening intolerance of the masses and correspondingly, theirs of me. I told him that he need only be concerned with his own beliefs. Now, how simple is that one? Pretty darn simple, right? If she is a good person with compassion for others what does it matter what she believes or does not believe? I heard myself ask him this.

Now that the notion of intolerance has raised its unattractive head, I can get back to Cat Stevens and share the New Year’s resolution I desire for myself. But I have to tell you one little thing.

I make mixed music CDs to give friends that might need uplifting or want to hear different artists, but mostly it is a form of therapy. Yesterday I finished one with an inspirational pull to it and played it for the first time this morning. Cat Stevens’ “Can’t Keep It In” came on. “Oh I can’t keep it in, I can’t keep it in, I’ve gotta let it out. I’ve got to show the world, world’s got to see, see all the love, love that’s in me.”

Suddenly, I found myself thinking of my friends who refuse to play or listen to his music because of his religious conversion. I am not intolerant of their intolerance, by the way.

Then, I remembered the Cat Stevens’ song I picked to play at my mother’s graveside service, “Oh Very Young.” “Oh very young, what will you leave us this time. You’re only dancing on this earth for a short while.”

And finally “Peace Train” came looming into my awareness.

I’ve been smiling lately, dreaming about the world as one, and I believe it could be, good’s bound to come Peace train come take me home again. It goes something like that.

I keep thinking this: What difference can it possibly make if Cat Stevens, now Yusuf, or you, or I face(s) east or west on our knees or elbows half the day or all day Tuesday and chew bean sprouts or gnaw on pickled pig’s feet?

Oh, come on and smile. The world is shrinking. Time’s getting shorter, too.

As for 2011, I give thanks and praise to my own personal God for a shiny New Year. And I hereby resolve to be tolerant of all other’s beliefs.

All but yours.

Jack Kelly is a Natchez resident.