Broken
Some days I feel the brokenness of everything. Human created systems and constructs, our response to challenges, civilization, government, my body, the chicken coop automated door, phones, and flat tires are all in free fall together.
The saddest and most alarming situation is the environment that we have pommeled into chaotic disarray. Though there seems to be a brief blossoming of bird song, clean air, wild predators having their way, yet our species is hell bent on returning to full on destruction as soon as feasible.
Beyond weeping, there seems little to do. Sure, I plant, seed, weed, feed, cut, mulch, water, watch, and as good as it feels it is so little in the face of the big broken. The problems cannot be solved by me, the hour far too late for solutions, so it seems the best I can do is to find some relief, joy, life, love in the simple things like family, walks, garden sitting, music, silence, and sensing what is, just what is now with nothing added.
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| distant shower from Arcata marsh |
Beyond weeping, there seems little to do. Sure, I plant, seed, weed, feed, cut, mulch, water, watch, and as good as it feels it is so little in the face of the big broken. The problems cannot be solved by me, the hour far too late for solutions, so it seems the best I can do is to find some relief, joy, life, love in the simple things like family, walks, garden sitting, music, silence, and sensing what is, just what is now with nothing added.
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