I find I can lose my self in the miracle that is a flower. These seemingly simple bursts of color or scent put out a call for attention and attract pollinators, and in turn fertilize fruits, that produce seeds, and sustain a global cycle humans and many other life forms are utterly dependent upon. I learned recently there are more micro-organisms in a shovel of healthy soil than the number of humans that have ever lived on the planet. Too often human arrogance trumps human humility.
The pace our culture has defined for us, the percentage of time allotted to maintain our role within the system of modern society, leaves little room for most to take in the wonder of it all. The pity of this is twofold, as we are the ones who create and define our culture, and, like flowers, we too, are wonders.
Each blossom is the epitome of efficiency for its necessary role, yet glows uniquely within its purpose. Just like us. As the Mary Oliver put it in her profound poem, “When Death Comes”:
“and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,”
What is a life that doesn’t recognize miracles? Clearly, at the least, diminished.
It’s also clear, like the dwindling pollinators and shrinking amount of “undeveloped” landscape, whether noticed or not, the civilization we have created is on a collision course with the limited resources and long-established dynamic balances of the earth’s systems. In my younger years I might have mocked the concept of chem-trails and geo-engineering the climate, an insurrection against our US government, or microchips implanted in our bodies; or conversely, healing ourselves through herbs, foraging for our food, and vitalizing oneself through meditation and fungi. I now admit my former naïveté and arrogance about each of these concepts.
What’s my “necessary role” in this evolving scheme? It feels to me it’s unfolding each week. Which is of course, unsettling, because we crave consistency, being assured of what’s on the horizon. I generally like knowing what the seasons will bring, where my food will come from, if my water supply will be there and clean, how I will provide for myself and those I care about, what responsibilities are expected of me in my community on a day to day basis.
As we begin to see disruptions and cracks in the system, it doesn’t take much imagination to sense the foundations of what humans have built are teetering. In the past, world wars between humans gave previous generations pause. Today if one pauses and looks, you can see the insane “war” we are waging against the earth itself. Of course we are part of the earth, not lords over it, despite centuries of misguided mythologies (both religious and scientific) to the contrary, so in effect we’re destroying ourselves. The earth will adjust and restore equilibrium, just as our bodies do when we take ill and a fever burns out the malady vying to overtake us.
I can’t deny this system that allows me to write and share thoughts, and was born into, has enhanced my life. Built in part through the selfless efforts of countless generations (from my immigrant Polish farmer grandparents to billions of other intertwined strangers) I was gifted this relatively comfortable setting. Throughout my life I’ve benefitted mightily from the comparative luxuries and conveniences I inherited.
Most of the world aches for what I now have; many are rowing hard just to survive on this boat of humanity. However if I have space to climb the mast and sense we are headed the wrong direction, even if I don’t yet see the safe harbor, it feels important to encourage we shift to a course clear of the rocks.
I’ve had minor challenges, amid many joys. In every experience, how I responded to the relationships within the circumstance either covered up or allowed peace to shine. It feels to me perhaps this is crucial to how we go forward. Maybe the unknown path is defined by how we relate to each other, to all other life forms, large and small. How can we share living in a more loving way with our families, our friends, the whole of our community? Can we extend this to our pets, the animals we eat, wildlife, our gardens and farms, meadows and forests; from the landscape to the soil to the fungi and humus that rejuvenate it; the pulsing stream of life that is clouds, rivers, and oceans across the dynamic, blossoming earth?
To remain ignorant or be distracted, to me, denies the conspicuous interplay of everything; to be aware and yet appreciate our role is to celebrate and nurture this miracle we’re within.
The pace our culture has defined for us, the percentage of time allotted to maintain our role within the system of modern society, leaves little room for most to take in the wonder of it all. The pity of this is twofold, as we are the ones who create and define our culture, and, like flowers, we too, are wonders.
Each blossom is the epitome of efficiency for its necessary role, yet glows uniquely within its purpose. Just like us. As the Mary Oliver put it in her profound poem, “When Death Comes”:
“and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,”
What is a life that doesn’t recognize miracles? Clearly, at the least, diminished.
It’s also clear, like the dwindling pollinators and shrinking amount of “undeveloped” landscape, whether noticed or not, the civilization we have created is on a collision course with the limited resources and long-established dynamic balances of the earth’s systems. In my younger years I might have mocked the concept of chem-trails and geo-engineering the climate, an insurrection against our US government, or microchips implanted in our bodies; or conversely, healing ourselves through herbs, foraging for our food, and vitalizing oneself through meditation and fungi. I now admit my former naïveté and arrogance about each of these concepts.
What’s my “necessary role” in this evolving scheme? It feels to me it’s unfolding each week. Which is of course, unsettling, because we crave consistency, being assured of what’s on the horizon. I generally like knowing what the seasons will bring, where my food will come from, if my water supply will be there and clean, how I will provide for myself and those I care about, what responsibilities are expected of me in my community on a day to day basis.
As we begin to see disruptions and cracks in the system, it doesn’t take much imagination to sense the foundations of what humans have built are teetering. In the past, world wars between humans gave previous generations pause. Today if one pauses and looks, you can see the insane “war” we are waging against the earth itself. Of course we are part of the earth, not lords over it, despite centuries of misguided mythologies (both religious and scientific) to the contrary, so in effect we’re destroying ourselves. The earth will adjust and restore equilibrium, just as our bodies do when we take ill and a fever burns out the malady vying to overtake us.
I can’t deny this system that allows me to write and share thoughts, and was born into, has enhanced my life. Built in part through the selfless efforts of countless generations (from my immigrant Polish farmer grandparents to billions of other intertwined strangers) I was gifted this relatively comfortable setting. Throughout my life I’ve benefitted mightily from the comparative luxuries and conveniences I inherited.
Most of the world aches for what I now have; many are rowing hard just to survive on this boat of humanity. However if I have space to climb the mast and sense we are headed the wrong direction, even if I don’t yet see the safe harbor, it feels important to encourage we shift to a course clear of the rocks.
I’ve had minor challenges, amid many joys. In every experience, how I responded to the relationships within the circumstance either covered up or allowed peace to shine. It feels to me perhaps this is crucial to how we go forward. Maybe the unknown path is defined by how we relate to each other, to all other life forms, large and small. How can we share living in a more loving way with our families, our friends, the whole of our community? Can we extend this to our pets, the animals we eat, wildlife, our gardens and farms, meadows and forests; from the landscape to the soil to the fungi and humus that rejuvenate it; the pulsing stream of life that is clouds, rivers, and oceans across the dynamic, blossoming earth?
To remain ignorant or be distracted, to me, denies the conspicuous interplay of everything; to be aware and yet appreciate our role is to celebrate and nurture this miracle we’re within.
RSS Feed