Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Noticing the Wounded Healer

No fully conscious adult can fail to notice that we are in a time of tumultuous change. The great unraveling. A shift in consciousness. A paradigm shift. A few years ago, I didn't even know that word, paradigm.

Simultaneously, many voices of observant people are now decrying how for centuries we have treated our Mother Earth like both an inexhaustible storehouse of supplies and also a sewer or garbage dump, pouring out our messes and poisons. Mother is sagging under the burden of our demands.

I heard someone, maybe Coby Beck, make a comment to the effect that we are the first species who could choose not to go extinct but we have not yet done so. We are as children, demanding, and Mother makes her responses. I wonder, do we know how to listen to and hear her?

A cluster of five pines grows by our mail box. In yesterday's damp air, the smell of resin wafted around me like a tonic. I stood there and breathed deeply, soothed.

This morning it is good to see a new dawn.

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