So many questions swirl within and around every small existence upon and within this beautiful world, this magical realm, this disgusting disgrace. How do we as beings who love with goodness, face the reality of ourselves. Ourselves in so much as we are every beating wing, and everyone is us. No this doesn’t distract from our beautiful diversity, but we must see through each other’s eyes if we are to truly understand. That understanding is hard, it is a beautiful thing to live amongst the trees, holding hands and making mistakes with fellow naked gypsy gardeners.
But is it running away?
To live far from the reaches of industrial waste, would we be unable to face the world we could return to? Or is it a bravery to stand and truly live the change? I do not have the answers, and I do not have the ability to judge those who have chosen both a hard and an effervescently beautiful life. There is a part of my soul that follows also, into the heart of dark light: into the trees and with the birds. I would gladly leave behind the rubbish of societies wake, pack my bags and leave the watchful eyes of big brother (ha, ha). It is a hardship to try to make it work within a system whose distaste runs ever present through our skin, whose solutions are tiny pills delivered with glazed eyes and a sinister smile, whose prozac runs amok through the waters of other nations. How can we not think of all the small beings without voices as loud as our machines, who swim in the contamination we love to keep out of mind?
We sit, and we listen: with our hearts, ears, minds, souls, eyes, and beings open. I watch the sparkling eyes of each of you, of each of us as we open ourselves to the golden wonders, the murky annoyances and the wonderful histories of each blade of grass. Each paddy field, each resident life. I can see the strength in our hardened smiles: the farmers hands rough as the stony grounds they cover, but soft as the sheep they keep on the edge of a feral life. The capitalist notions of ownership may not have tainted the ground we walk on yet, but the dogs of capitalism are kept at bay only by the distance, and the wilderness. Untangling the mysteries of the lands, the waters and the organisms we impose ourselves upon- thank you Tamara for such delicious representation- may take generations: but makes it no less poignant. No less necessary.
UVic Permaculture 