Responding to the Call or not…

Fear of being judged.

Sometimes I don’t respond to the call.  Sometimes, the universe delivers precise messages that it’s time to do an art show.  Locally, invitations come to me.  I find a reason to say “no, thank you.”  I make excuses that seem true in the moment… “I’m grieving.”  or “It’s too costly to get frames and prep the art for a show.”  or “I’m mostly self-taught–I haven’t gone to art school.”

In retrospect all of these reasons (excuses) seem false, constructed to protect myself in some way.  Our art is, after all, our progeny and we protect it accordingly along with our fragile artist’s ego.  Behind all of this, is the fear that others are going to judge me and my art unfavorably.  Time to get past that.

You cannot be discovered and invisible at the same time!

Recognizing and making opportunities.

Think about the attention that has come your way through your art or writing or poetry–when you deign to share it.  That old “don’t hide your light under a bushel” parable comes to mind.  Given a gift, it is meant to be shared.  I have to remind myself of this when I humbly dismiss an invitation to have an art show or decline to read a poem publicly.

Notes to self:  1)When someone says that they like my art…that they want to purchase something because it speaks to them or that they’d like to see more of my art, say “Yes”.  2) And, when they say that a painting is something they could live with comfortably and appreciate daily, don’t dismiss that.  Share more of what you do with them.

I’ve been thinking about the unlikely places to share my art as well as the generous offers from a local hotel and a gallery.  Take a little expedition within a thirty mile radius of where I live.  Who could host a piece or two of my art.  I’ve made  up those business cards–but I could give them a fresh look.  And then, actually hand them out!

If not now, when?

Truly, can any one of us measure the length of our lives?  We didn’t come here to be invisible.  We are each an expression of something that the universe has brought forth for a good reason.  We are meant to be seen and heard.  With due respect for others of course.  It’s not a competition.  It’s more like an ARRAY.  What a beautiful word.  In an array of flowers, there is not one that has to be the most beautiful.  Again, reminding me of the word “synergy” where the parts aren’t greater than the whole…they work together in a harmonious array.

STOP PLAYING HARD TO GET!

So it is with your art…joining the league of artists, each a star in his/her own orbit.  What a brilliant idea!

Another quote I love and refer to time and again:

“When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.”   – Audre Lorde

****
What I’m saying is:  Any one of us is being called on in some way to express ourselves at this time.  I heard the phrase recently “You are here on purpose.”  Wow, that’s a good one to contemplate.  What you are working on or creating in your life right now, what would it be like to share it with another, others, the larger community?

The Unbeautiful

The question I asked in an early journal (2012) “Can I bring beauty to the perceived as unbeautiful.”

For some reason, this question seems as timely as it did when I asked it in 2012. In the last blog, I mentioned being present and pondered why it seems unsustainable.

I live in a beautiful place. I look out the windows and there is INSTANT BEAUTY surrounding my cottage. Within five minutes, I can be walking beside a pristine lake. We are saying farewell to a winter that sparkled with white snow, tree branches etched with snow, unique snowflakes whirling then landing. We are turning towards the first crocuses, daffodils and tulips–the heralds of spring.

I am always stopped by a spring flower. I pause to acknowledge it. Yet, how quickly I leave that beauty behind and retreat into my head. Into the same old annoying thought patterns. That nowhere land around which my mind circles. I am resisting the beauty that surrounds me. Why? Why do I choose these thoughts over this present beauty? Why this incessant need to solve what is insoluble.

As far as bringing beauty to what I perceive as unbeautiful, I think that’s not really the question. The real question seems to be why am I once again missing the beauty that is. If the unbeautiful represents the shadow in humanity, in you, in me, then as I understand it, it needs acknowledgment from me. “Yes, you’re there too. I welcome and accept you.” And then there comes a time when the fascination with the shadow desires to lessen. Isn’t there?

Our media, in case you haven’t noticed, gives weighty attention to the mess that humans continue to make of things. The media is often a fear monger. I have heard that it takes seven uplifting thoughts or things of beauty to counter one negative message. Yet, we are bombarded by a media that perhaps knows exactly what it’s doing–keeping people in fear and immobilized. An amnesia for what is beautiful takes over.

Some of my friends don’t read or listen to the news. They seem generally happier for it. Is it sticking one’s head in the sand not to read the news? Is it irresponsible not to stay up on world affairs? Some would say so. How much better off am I for reading the news, the conflicting news, the reporting that creates dissension and division? There are things in the realms of politics that have been set in motion that I don’t seem to have control over. There are certainly decisions that I don’t align with…and yet, how is my dread of them going to change anything?

What if I could go out today and really be with the beauty that is around me? What if I could wander in the wonder of what it is to be alive today? What if I could hold the mystery of our being-ness closer and worry less about the uncertainty?

Can I make the unbeautiful beautiful? No, but I can meet the unbeautiful with it’s counterpart of beauty. For everything has a counterpart.

While working on a painting, I remember what one teacher said “work with what’s working.” That’s a good reminder for life. There is a lot that is working and that I can easily take for granted.

Rejoining the Beauty
by Christine O’Brien

The chief beauty of the world
pattern of patterns
To tap into that beauty
to let it be the motivator
of this day
Jane’s tree, Crissy’s flowers,
the amethyst ring,
a smile, the cuddly cat
These things know
what I only surmise
A creator who
set this world in motion
where I join with this source
in my own creation
a masterpiece in the making
Within the stumbling,
the waywardness–
beauty
In the lost or
unlit places–
beauty
There is no waiting for me
to reach that highly evolved state
in the present incompleteness–
beauty
In what’s for dinner and
who I met for breakfast yesterday–
beauty
In the unknown tomorrow
the tentative step forward, the risk–
beauty
In the potential for love,
the yearning for peace–
beauty
The stone in my shoe set free,
rejoining the beauty

****

Music is certainly a way to engage beauty. Remember to listen to music.

Being Present

Being Present. Sages believe that there is wisdom in this. Yet, how many of us really live this way? Why don’t we? Too much baggage from the past? Too much worry over the future? Both of which are no longer in our control. We’ve heard that the present is the gift. That we only have power in the present.

Yet, for me, it feels like somehow I avoid the present in one way or another. Thoughts slip in sideways and take me down a path I don’t care to go. And then, the moment is lost to me. I don’t think we can ever effectively escape these sideways distractions. They seem to be integral to our lives. We’re often planning for the next thing. However, once-in-awhile, I have that experience of being precisely where I am, doing (or not doing) exactly what I’m doing. Sometimes, I’m fully present with someone else. I’m seeing them, hearing them, responding to them, experiencing the moment with them. Yet, it’s so rare. How come I can’t harness the fleeting moment and be comfortable within it?

Here’s a poem where I pondered just that…

And Then What?
by Christine O’Brien

on stopping and being present

in this one particular moment

leaving everything pending, undone

unattended

I read that if I died

all the activities

I deemed important

would die with me

for who would be interested

in taking up the threads of my existence

and continuing the odd weave?

sometimes I don’t want

this warp and woof I’ve created.

start anew…

I wonder if there is another me

on another side

of this thinning veil

cheering me on

rah rah

if I could claw a way through to her

merge with her

know the secrets

I already know

live the life

that dreamers awaken to

be real

on this plane

could I drop all the tasks

so self-important

really live while I’m alive? 

oh sweet adventure

oh daring & renewed fascination

now, the wind does howl

and the wood crackles in the stove

spring has slipped backwards

into winter

it’s been a long day

the bath is ready

I’m tired

and anything profound

is more than I desire

this stopping and being present

is so lush.

****
Do you feel you are fully present, partially present or rarely present to what’s in front of you? Today? Right now?

Is She a Victim?

(from a journal dated 04.26.2018)

Mother
comes with a built-in judgment
a plan for struggle
to fall and fail
Her platform, built by men
an ‘ideal’ that doesn’t allow her
to be whole.

While Mother has the most amazing qualities,
potential
–she is placed in a hotbed of
masculine insecurity and his misuse of power,
his idea that power means to overpower–
to oppress, suppress and make her subject to…
his unhealed places.

Her qualities, natural instincts of care, nurture
compassion
and feminine power
are contorted to fit into his world,
to meet his needs.


Mother is stolen from herself
and her children.
She is lost, she is sad.

*****
Today…03.11.2021
I have written about woman, wife, mother for most of my life. I am or have been all of these. Some humans would like to believe that we’ve evolved so much that there is no longer oppression and abuse of women. We hear world news rendering this belief as false. Yet, we hold onto the idea that it’s not happening here. Sadly, it is present today in our own country, our own community and our own families. Domestic Violence is real. It is mostly the abuse of women and children.

The woman victim often denies that she is a battered wife. There is a complex of qualities that create a circumstance for domestic violence. For the woman being abused, it can involve low self-esteem, trauma, shame, confusion, the desire to be loved and cared for, fear and more. There can be an economic component as to why a woman stays in an abusive relationship. There are always hidden reasons and causes, below the level of her awareness–often, she grew up in a household where this was modeled. The male abuser has likely been a victim himself–of trauma and having grown up in such a household. He has not learned to value a woman nor has he learned how to manage his own triggers, anger, past trauma.

When I moved to the mountains, twenty-plus years ago, I determined to write about the battered wife…her battle for sovereignty. When she recognizes that she has stayed too long in an abusive and demeaning relationship, how does she finally leave? My mother never left. She stayed true to the model of battered wife to the end. She stood by her husband despite the ongoing abuse. In the care home, I witnessed how my father finally had only to give my mother an icy stare for her to comply with his demands. The patterns were so well-established and neither of them knew how to extricate themselves from such a merciless cycle.

This is one of many tough topics. One that many people in my circles avoid. I understand why. It’s an ugly topic, isn’t it? It has ancestral roots. How does one change something that is so embedded? And, of course, how does the prevailing and entrenched attitude towards women as inferior to men begin to change? How does a woman change that diminished model within herself?

Sometimes, when a woman has experienced domestic violence over a long period of time, it is hard for her to talk about it. If she has left the situation, there is a part of her that wants to shrink away from it and ‘have a happy life now.’ However, the effects are lingering and the body has set up patterns of re-traumatization with the intention of protection. Reading about something along the lines of domestic violence, a woman can get triggered back into an event in her life. Fight, flight and freeze strategies are engaged. Conducting a normal life is unrealistic given this response to triggers.

This topic of Domestic Violence is up for me now as currently some of my family members are living through this nightmare. For one of them, it has been carried to the extreme and she is in the hospital fighting for her life. When and how does this change? First by shining a light of recognition on it. Bringing awareness to that which we would rather avoid. The world has been under the spell of man’s dominion over woman and nature long enough. We’re missing everything until we are inclusive of the wisdom that is innate when we embrace our interdependence on one another and the wholeness of life.




The Feminine in Him

By now, most of us have heard that a man has a feminine side and a woman has a masculine side. How accessible each of those are to any one of us is questionable. Any given society’s dictates are strong to be true to your gender. For a man to show his feminine side is often perceived as a weakness. For a woman to show her masculine side…well, she’s been called a bitch or other not-so-nice names. Assertive women and gentle men…hmmm, we’ve got a lot to learn about what it is to be a whole human being.

My ex-husband of thirty years bore the burden of having to be a macho man! He couldn’t admit to fear. He couldn’t show sorrow or grief. The only permissible emotion for him, under this label of macho, was anger! And he did that one really well to the detriment of others and ultimately to himself. During our marriage, when it was needed, I opened the door for him to grieve a loss. He wouldn’t go there. He was a firefighter and a tough guy. That said, I remember the considerate young man that he was before he became so attached to that machismo as a way of defining himself. He passed away in late 2019. In the last five years of his life, after he had his first stroke, suddenly tears were at the surface. He couldn’t control them and gave up apologizing for them. I witnessed in him the struggle as he began to express his more feminine side. His apologies to his children and me, for one. It had been a hard and unyielding wall that kept the machismo, inherited from his lineage, in place. Finally, crumbling.

It is known that the hormone, testosterone, decreases in men as they age. I’ve noticed some men, upwards of sixty, becoming softer, sensitive and compassionate. It could be that they no longer feel that they need to prove themselves. If they are able to retire, perhaps they no longer need to be so competitive. It could be the wisdom of aging. It could be the decreased hormone levels and/or all of the above. It’s a change for the good because why not have access of all who we are? Why not discover our depths of feeling out of which can grow new possibilities for oneself and humankind?

A New World
by Christine O’Brien
Soft as a mother
of cushiony comforts
–men fear that perceived weakness
within themselves.
A man so strong
as to pretend fearlessness:
so rigid as not to crack.
Topple him within yourself
and cry.
Show me a man
who can encounter a woman
in her softest center
and not try to convince her
of anything.
Show me a woman
who can welcome a man
and not become him.
Where they meet,
at that softest center
honorably,
they can grow a new world.

a quote from Thoreau

“I wish so to live ever as to derive my satisfactions and inspirations from the commonest events, every-day phenomena, so that my senses hourly perceive, my daily walk, the conversation of my neighbors, may inspire me, and I may dream of no heaven but that which lies about me.”  
Henry David Thoreau

For me, this quote symbolizes the independent spirit while recognizing the interdependency we have with our neighbors and the natural world. That said, the larger world is on our doorstep…through the ever-present media and its variable perspectives, we are bombarded with world events, political unrest, glaring social inequities, climate change, etc. It seems that while it is wise to be present with the commonest events and daily phenomena, we cannot bury our heads in wonder to the point where we ignore the outer chaos. What a helpless feeling though when we look at the state of human affairs.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of sitting outdoors with three wise women poets. We were celebrating a birthday of one of the women, eating quiche, rhubarb pie and banana bread. We discussed that helpless feeling that arises when we ask the question: How does anyone wed oppositions? I, myself, experience my own inner duality…how do I present as a unified whole with such a split? Within families, there are opposite viewpoints, family members polarized against one another. Within my community, there are examples of polarization, immobility, the inability to see the other’s perspective. When both sides claim to have the final truth, how do we meet in the middle? We see how people go to war over opposing ideologies. There is a faction of people (me included) that considers war to be an obsolete way to handle our differences…yet there is ongoing warfare.

I often wonder what my part is today…growing this woman self, growing her out of the past that deemed woman second class, quieted her, effectively erased her voice from history. Writing poetry gives voice to what needs to be acknowledged and furthers the writer’s process. Ideally, it offers something to the readers.

The Future
© by Christine O’Brien

She blazes colors…
If I am to be a vessel for change
I can no longer be invisible,
nor quiet.
I review my early writings
of a woman chained to
outworn, disrespected roles.
Her models were false impressions
of what a woman should be.
Disloyal to herself,
while surrendering her salvation
to him.

She is silent in the midst
of her degradation.
She follows the mores
of how she has learned a woman
“should be, should behave.”
She has depths to which
she hasn’t dared to descend.
She has forgotten her worth,
her right to equal partnering,
muffled her voice,
disguised her face and figure.
She is depressed.

Her fire has gone into hiding,
but it is not extinguished.
Eruptions are scary
when you think you are only
malleable, adaptive, accepting
yielding and penetrated.
What does a spiritual,
grounded activism look like?

Too many of my women friends,
and me too, don’t look beyond today
or tomorrow…
“What’s for dinner,
are my needs well-met
is my family safe,
for now?
Have we defended against the virus,
sufficiently?
Are our cupboards full?
Are the essential workers
able to provide for us, hold us up?
For how long? 
Are the borders secure and
the air space protected?
Do we realize our interdependence? 
Yet?”

For if my sisters and brothers around
the globe–China, Africa, the Balkan Islands,
Indian Reservations, my next door neighbor–
are suffering, thirsty or hungry. 
If my clouded leopard in Malaysia,
my Spirit Bear in British Columbia,
my Tundra Swan’s very existence
are threatened, then so am I!
If the earth’s respiratory forests
are ingraciously removed
will I have the breath to speak
of upcoming peril?
Wouldn’t I rather
see the salvation that comes from
humanity arising,
not only in America
but across this expanse of earth–
our common, ever-shrinking home?

What, dear woman, with inner fire,
are you waiting for?

Why Am I Here?

Every now and then, it’s a good idea to contemplate this existential question. Today, Thursday, October 29th, 2020 as I go about this day. I’ve decided to put that question at the forefront of my mind. I want to be with it as I weave in and out of the daily activities and encounters. It’s not as if I expect to find a final or definitive answer. It’s more like a present day review that addresses the question: Am I living what I value?

Waking up to a pristinely beautiful autumn day, I might answer “Perhaps I’m here to see and appreciate this inordinate beauty.”

As I sip my morning smoothie made with the abundant fruit harvest, “Maybe I’m here to express gratitude for such nourishing abundance.”

As I stand under a stream of hot running water, taking my morning shower, “More gratitude as I realize this is a privilege, not a right and that there are many others who don’t have running water, hot or cold.”

“Why am I here?” the question echoes and follows me around like a curious puppy discovering the world.

As I wield a paintbrush or write this blog, “Perhaps I’m here to be a creative channel.” And then,
to share my observations and art with others.

Then, as I go out into the world encountering others, it could be that I’m here to be the best version of myself. And to welcome the best version of you, the other.

As I strive to live my personal values, going out into the world, is what I stand in and up for recognizable to you? And do I meet you at that level, recognizing your uniqueness and what you stand in and up for?

Are we each here to welcome ourselves and one another into this grand, crazy, wild, chaotic, uninhibited expression of life!

I feel that one big reason I’m here (or that anyone is here) is to establish right reciprocal relationship with nature which includes us. Yesterday, in a telephone conversation with one of my brothers, he was feeling distress regarding the distancing between nature and people who live in big cities. He said that they have no sense of where their food comes from, how electricity is supplied, nor awareness of the interdependence and relationship between themselves and nature. The “city person” expects these essentials to be delivered to their doorstep. “They are spoiled,” he said. I have been a city person for most of my life. For the past twenty-two years, I’ve lived in the mountains. I do agree that there is a disconnect. And isn’t it then, up to each person to find that missing piece in their lives and reestablish right relationship?

In this time of Covid, there is a common theme of separation and isolation. It has been forced on us by the virus. Yet, if we could begin to re-establish connection to nature, maybe we’d feel less lonely. And, really, as I quest for an answer to why I’m here, I might remember that humans are social animals. And while there is a need for separation at this time, we are a chorus. We need each other. And it is through relationship that we remember why we’re here. For ourselves, for one another. There is a wholeness when you and I meet that can’t be fabricated in solitude. We are born alone and we exit in that way. However, while we’re here, we join our voices, fight for common causes based in our values and play outdoors in nature as often as possible.

For today, I’m going to keep it small…make the question a tiny one that sits there as I quietly observe myself and how I influence life and how life is influencing me.

There’s something else that is coming through powerfully as the day goes on. In this lifetime, I was born a woman. And with that comes a whole other question. I am a witness to how the world I’m born into disfavors women. How it disallows her innate rights of being. How it has enslaved or made women lesser than men in so many ways. Why am I here can be reframed into “Why am I here as a woman?” Is the world ready for women to be all that they can be, in their true power and dignity? I think that it’s about time. What do you think?


Note: I wrote this in October of last year…I decided that today is a good day to publish it as I reconsider my initial question Why am I here?”

Six More Weeks of Winter?

So the groundhog predicted on February 2nd…that gives us three weeks down and three weeks to go approximately in the northern hemisphere. It’s all so unpredictable these days. Like everything else in front of us, we’re going to know how much longer we have of winter when it happens. Forecasting is a strange sport.

We’ve had a long inward time…much longer than we anticipated. Another writer, K. DuMont, said

“Time introduces a new character to our lives each season,
one with a temperature and a temperament that affects our own.”

So, what has your temperament been like lately? People here are talking about covid fatigue. Someone asked me today how that expresses itself for me. I thought about it and found myself talking about the things that I miss…like the ease of movement, sitting in a café leisurely sharing time and tea with a friend, hugs. The incentive to clean my house used to be strong if I knew I was going to have company coming over. Now, who cares. A pile here, a pile there. Visits to my family five hours away have been curtailed. Another friend asked if I take fewer showers than I typically would. And, the last time I had a professional haircut was over one year ago. I’m weary of the limitations. And, with that, I have a lot to be grateful for although sometimes it’s hard to remember. Humans are social beings.

Each of us has our own particular tale to tell around this unprecedented time as I hear it being referred to. I inquire within…if these are the rules of the game, can I safely bend them or come up with a creative solution to alleviate the loneliness (I live alone)? Without knowing how much longer that we have to do this cautious dance in the world, is there something I can offer to myself to make it a little lighter? Is there some sort of community (yes, we are grateful for ZOOM–but then there is ZOOM Fatigue?) Is there some other way that we can create community for ourselves? I’m open for suggestions. Even if you’re an introvert, you miss the company of people. Don’t you?

I was invited to do a collaborative painting with another artist. I received a panel through the mail. The first artist had etched the design–there was an original from which she created her own unique expression. As the second artist in the collaboration, my part was to embellish it. Which I did, adding color, collage and using various techniques to try to render something compatible yet unique to me. I then mailed the panel to a local art council. They gather the panels from several other participating artists to create a mural. That’s one way to connect with others. Interesting, but not totally satisfying.

I am, by nature, introspective. However, prolonged introspection–urgh. Regardless, winter is considered the season for the inward journey. According to author, Jamie Sams, in the Native American tradition, the bear is the guardian of the west and winter, the season for introspection. She says that “…bear seeks honey or the sweetness of truth in the hollow of an old oak tree.”

Over the course of this long time with your own company and thoughts, is there a sweetness of truth that you have gleaned. One thing? More than one thing? Share it under comments here if you like or at least share it with one other person.

Writing My Way Through

Writing a blog, one can get stuck in a rut. Trying to hold true to an original intention for the blog, I encountered a block. While I loved what I was writing and sharing, was it making a difference for myself and others? Was their an evolutionary track to it? Perhaps, I’ve gone as far as I need to in that direction.

I paused the blog to grieve three intimate losses, to reencounter myself and rekindle a relationship with what has been a lifelong theme. That theme is the theme of woman/mother in a society that disrespects woman. As a girl with a mother who was virtually voiceless and invisible, I was impacted strongly. In her invisibility and silence, her effect upon me has been profound. How, then, did I find my voice? How did I allow myself to dare to go from invisibility to being seen?

As I write this, I ask myself “Do I want to share something this personal referencing my ongoing lifelong journey towards finding my voice, healing and wholeness?” I haven’t arrived there and I don’t necessarily feel secure or that I’m in a place of grounded strength and complete self-awareness. If I haven’t arrived, then how credible can I be? While I took a break from writing this blog to process grief, I realize that the period of healing, grieving, reclaiming and replenishing is ongoing.

In these times, each one of us has something that we are working on in the inner landscape of our individual lives. We are, each one of us, a microcosm with its own center and on our own evolutionary track. We do this, side-by-side, unaware of what our neighbor’s or our brother’s or our sister’s inner self is working on. If recognizing this helps me to access compassion, then I’ve come a long way.

We live in what has been termed “unprecedented times.” The challenges are great for us as individuals and as a society. There are a few people in my immediate circle with whom I reflect and share deeply. I admire those who can hold a positive attitude…although sometimes I wonder what channel they are tuned into as I don’t have the same consistent optimism. I do have hope, but I also am a witness to my own turmoil and the world condition. What is my small part in this great whole?

As I was walking in the late afternoon, it occurred to me that I could harvest writing from my journals, essays and non-fiction short stories to present the themes that explore a woman’s evolution from invisible and voiceless to “it is safe to be visible and to have a voice.” But there is something that I’m looking for in my own life and journey–what is the transformational piece? I don’t only want to present a problem…I want to consider “What is a possible way to transform what was or has been?”

I offer that question to you, the reader of this blog. Surveying your life, are you able to name a transformational piece? Certainly, there can be more than one.

Enjoy your day.

Ecology

Why is ecology important? Ecology is the basis for a state of one’s personal and global well-being.  It recognizes the interdependence between people and nature (which includes us)  that is vital for food production, maintaining clean air and water, and sustaining biodiversity especially notable during this time of climate change.

Why is biodiversity important?  Each life form adds to an environment that works for many.

“Biodiversity boosts ecosystem productivity where each species, no matter how small, all have an important role to play. For example, A larger number of plant species means a greater variety of crops. Greater species diversity ensures natural sustainability for all life forms.”

I might think I’m an independent person.  But if I consider everything that sustains me…water, air, food, sunshine and how all those things are delivered to me…I’d soon realize how very dependent I am.  Interdependence sounds better.  But it can only be effective if I live in a reciprocal way.  Not just taking things in…but giving back and sharing the bounty with others.  And respecting and caring for the source, the resources.

Many humans seem to think that they stand outside their environment.  I mean, they might live in a house or housing.  They might have a garden or a few plants on a balcony.  They might live in the city or a rural area.  Yet, they often think that they are separate from their environment.  That the effect of one on the other isn’t important.  There is also the peculiar notion that nature has to be dominated and that “humans know best.”

I wonder how we awaken to this interdependence and the need for reciprocity.  I wonder how corporate interests can continue to do irresponsible logging of tropical forests and fracking or dredging for oil.  I wonder how they don’t seem to consider the ways that this is impacting the local wildlife, the indigenous peoples there.  How it is drastically affecting climate change and that across this beautiful earth, we are all going to suffer for this irresponsibility.  Neither the very poor nor the very wealthy, neither the ignorant nor the very wise, neither kings, queens nor presidents are going to be spared if we don’t gather our wits and understand this vital relationship soon.