This is my home. The earth is my home. We are tied to her in a way that we as a people are only beginning of understand ... or remember. Indigenous cultures who still have strong ties to the land know what we cannot easily know because there's no place on the spreadsheet for it. We think we know so much, but we are overrun with information and completely depleted in seeing the big picture of how we all fit together. We keep buying into the illusion of separation. We are as limited in our viewpoint of "reality" as fundamentalist religionists of the Middle Ages, just in a vastly different direction. Every age and era has a prevailing story it tells itself. Each story privileges views that other stories hide. Each story has its limitations. We are seeing in the earth and in our insides the limitations of our narrative and its destruction even while we are unable to articulate and intellectualise what it is we are sensing.
I rejoice in the thought that the way I see intellectually is limited. It validates the vast fields that I walk in but can't elucidate, the more beautiful world that's possible, as Charles Eistenstein puts it. The world that is there, on a deeper level, one that encompasses my intellect but goes past it. The heartspace. We all have this. It's lack of use is partly why we feel so ill at ease and disatissfied. Life is waaaaaaaaaaay more than this particular paradigm. And so are we. We know this somewhere. It is a trustworthy knowing. It comes from the gut.
|Berry Hard Work by JD Hancock|