I have been in a word-lull here on Substack and in all the other places I am usually writing/jotting/expressing. It is not that the world has silenced me, no; it is that the gardens, and the sky, and the birds and foxes, have quieted me. There is a big difference between the two.
Many of my words right now seem to be whispered into the soil, around the plants, uttered as protection for me and my beloveds from New England’s bumper year of ticks (I sent out an energetic dinner bell inviting the birds to come and eat them all up,) or as gratitude to Mystery for the beauty I see around my feet and above my head.
Other words are offered to beloveds in gratitude and encouragement; support and sympathy. Even as the powers-that-be devolve, everyday life continues with diagnoses, deaths, trials and travels, family celebrations and commiserations. How fortunate I am that my current reality does not include drones, bombs, famine, and fire. I do not take that good fortune for granted in any way. None of us ought do so. All of us ought realize that difficult times are here for many, on the way for most, and everyone ought be thinking about how best to meet the times with steadiness, generosity, and resilience.
I am in a solution-lull, also. I have no answers to this burgeoning gilded-age and its insanity and ugliness. What I do have are responses to the world and to the people and places within my own sphere of influence. I am learning more about food, farming, regenerative practices, herbs and herbalism, soil, ecosystems, community-building, etc.
I am learning to be less reactive and more responsive.
I am learning to be aware of what I cannot change; to give my strength to what I can change; and the wisdom to discern between the two.
Mostly I think the best response we can have now is to love everything we want to see grow and be strong: our beloveds, our bodies and spirits, our gardens, communities, habits, democracy, kindness, generosity, equity, peace, etc.
The inverse also holds: we can then withdraw our energy from everything we do not want to see grow. We need to be aware and see these things clearly for certain, yet we need not feed them: not with our votes, not with our time, not with our money. Like the ticks; we need to remember that they are there, that they will feed upon anyone who gives them opportunity, and start actively denying them those opportunities to consume us.
These truths are becoming evident to me:
We need be aware, not afraid.
Awareness will inform us and bring us together; it will lead us into our gardens, public squares and third places. May we come together. May it be so.
Courage my dears. Love one another.
