This summer, now gone, I spent living with the trees, healing with the trees. A lot of that time and experience resulted in my losing respect for humanity, with the trees.
It’s incredible and horrifying and nauseating what humans have done to the trees, and I struggle to find any shred of pride in existing as a human when I see what we’ve done.
The trees are starving and neglected and abused. We over-planted and under-appreciate the regal beings who make this planet habitable. We stew in our hubris that we can replace trees with HEPA filters (we can’t), and we destroy the only safety net our kids have for inheriting a livable and living planet.
I didn’t expect to have such an enormous shift in consciousness when I moved into the tent, when I moved out of the buildings, when I stepped back and out of society, when I turned my back on what we’ve agreed is success and life, but it’s a shift that can’t be undone. I feel like I moved from marginalized to a complete outsider (no pun intended), and I have my nose pressed against the glass of the windows no one opens, screaming and crying and begging for the murdering to stop… and that screaming exists in a vacuum no one hears because the volume on the television is too loud, and the sound proof insulation in the walls is too thick, and the callouses on the heart and soul of humanity is too hardened. And I don’t know what to do about that. I can’t do anything about that. All I can do is stand here and watch it happening like a train at full speed ahead and my kids’ lives are tied to the tracks.
More soon, much Love,