I want to hope

For the one who opens my eyes – you know who you are…

paradise big tree

Perhaps you’ve seen hints of it in my photos, or in the words I put to page: I’m hopelessly and head-over heals in love. This one great love of mine has been beautiful and true. He wakes me with birdsong and tucks me in with a painting on the western wall, every day! He feeds me, and heals me when I’m sick; gives my life meaning; fills my heart with gratitude beyond imagining. I just wither at the thought of losing this love of mine.

eightmile 052a

But I’m sad to say my love has also been treated like trash.  You see, you and I have set about killing my love. Sometimes we take little cuts and the killing is slow. Sometimes we work with our giant machete and do irreparable damage; sometimes we don’t even know, except in retrospect, how our actions have injured this love of mine. We’ve generally just left a big ugly  pile of crap  in what was a pristine and entropic place. This saddens me greatly and while I’m as guilty as you are, I’m also very angry at you for not being more careful with such a precious one.  I try to be careful and loving in return for all I’ve received, but I’m also selfish and that’s led to doing harm. I have worked at  reforming myself a bit but I have little hope for all y’all. There’s just so many of you that seem to be oblivious to what you’re doing.

By now, you may have figured out that this love of mine is the earth. This amazing planet,  this place of diversity and contradiction; this place of vast open spaces and billions of living beings; my home, your home. That’s who I love with the vigor of life itself.

Lately, there’s been an overwhelming sadness and anger inside me that ebbs and flows with the days.  I might awake like the sun but as the day goes, so goes my pleasant mood. Other days I just awake sad and stay that way. Today, I realized why I was so sad, and I was able to put a name to it: mourning. So, I mourn, I mourn because I see my love slipping away, perilously close to a certain death And it’s painful to witness.

I’ve been sorrowing for a while but not entirely aware that what I’ve felt is loss akin to a broken heart. I realized the reason for my sadness as I read Jack Adam Weber’s article, “Radical Embrace: Breaking the Cycle of Unfertile Demise,” on Guy McPherson’s blog, Nature Bats Last. Weber put into words so many thoughts I’d been thinking.

owald beach4

He synthesizes ideas and even posits some answers to questions I’ve been mulling over. For some time I’ve questioned many things about the path we western humans are on (and influencing in others). I’ve seen the climate change, the large-scale environmental destruction, even the acceptance of poison in our own food supply, and been so confused. How do others not get this? How can they not see what’s happening? Since they don’t yet see it, will they ever? Does that mean that it’s too late? And, how do I, as an aware and caring being, live lightly yet live life to the fullest; life is a gift I don’t want to waste? Is it OK to drive to the woods if it requires consuming fossil fuel to get there? If I don’t go to the places that feed my soul, how do I survive the great sadness of losing my love – such a conundrum? If only I can see the dew on the slug, or ripples in the sand, or the drama of the sunset, I might be alright, I make it through, or at least avoid becoming an emotionally devastated, useless wreck of a girl.sunset in washington county

All the while I’ve been experiencing this loss-of-love crisis, I’ve also been unclear as to what to do with this blog of mine. It began as an exercise to practice writing and clear my mind of creative thoughts and ideas. Lately though I’ve been lacking inspiration; or more specifically I’ve not been inspired to post, but kept it going anyway. I’ve posted a few photos with a few words as regularly as I could but frankly, I really have been lacking direction and focus. I’ve only been operating at half steam, unsure of what needed to be said and feeling conflicted about continuing.

So, I spent the day in mourning for my love; I wept me a river as they say. Oh broken heart I see how you ache. But that crying did me some good. It got me to thinking.

Now,  I think I can see what to do. I decided  I want to keep showing you what I see, so that you might see this love of mine as I do. Or, at least you’ll see how important this love is to me, and maybe take a step further towards changes in your life that preserves my life and sanity. As Weber suggests, one course of action is to share the beauty of the world;  I interpret that as a directive to find the haiku moments in the world and share them with anyone who will listen (and then some).

And so, I have a little more purpose here. Those photos and words I share are my way of trying to break the cycle of demise. Because, ultimately, I’m still an optimist, ultimately I’ve been sad long enough, and cried hard enough already, and ultimately I don’t want to give up. I want to hope, and continuing to share this love of mine with you will give me that.

takhlak lake gentian

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12 thoughts on “I want to hope

  1. Barb; I have been reading some of your blogs this afternoon. I can hardly put into words how it feels when you describe in “I Want to hope” so much like what seems to be flooding me as I approach my 75th birthday. And know not what the future will hold for my children and grandchildren; not to mention this indescribably beautiful earth .
    I have great sadness as well as incredible hope – because so many people now understand that we are all one thing, stardust if you will – all made of that universal energy. All I know is that I need to be totally honest in all I do – and who ever gains something from my presence here – I won’t know what it is, but its all I can do. I have learned a very strong practice that connects me with the essence of that universal energy that is within me – and that allows me to be in a peaceful and happy place with a quiet mind. I know we must follow our intuitions and for those of us who love the natural world in us and around us can only give that to others in whatever way we can. Please keep on doing what you are moved to do. Its wonderful to see your photographs and read your truthful words about how you feel. Once, back in the ’70s, while walking my dogs down my own dirt road – I experienced the feeling of being extended in to the furthest of the universe – like the proverbial drop going into the sea – and then a gentle coming back into myself. I have never been the same since. And the journey of awareness and how to share that with others will just have to happen one step at a time. Its all I can do. Many many people are now realizing this however, which is a point of uplift of the spirit for me at this time. Things are surely shifting, and the upsurge of the feminine energy and wisdom is unstoppable I feel.
    Best to you, I am so glad that my Barbara has such a friend as you. I will be lurking around. You write beautifully.

    • Thank you Martha for such a thoughtful and personal reply. I too do feel that things are shifting, sometimes I’m impatient with the pace of the shift, but I do see that it is occurring. AND I see too how I can, with my intention, contribute to that shift. I’m so glad you’ll be lurking around and do hope you’ll offer more of your wisdom on future posts.
      warmly,
      b

    • Thanks Kristin, that means lots to me. I such garbled feelings about what my writing does for anyone else so a hint that I might inspire others helps me unknot those feeling a bit.
      b

  2. I’ve been thinking long and hard what to say; I didn’t want to come across as being insensitive and invalidating of your experience and feelings. But my thoughts just got too long for a comment. Please, come visit me: “I want to hope, too, just in a different way” is the post and I hope it adds to your thoughts.

    I appreciate what you have to say and that you’ll continue to be inspired to write.

    • Yes, there are different ways to inspire hope and I appreciate very much what you’ve contributed to the conversation. What I take away from your comments and want to expand on next is the necessity of building hope on a foundation of reality: that reality being the dichotomy of nature – the extreme beauty and extreme brutality. Building hope requires understanding,appreciating, and accepting both.

  3. Pingback: I want to hope, too, just in a different way | the tao of jaklumen

  4. Mudlips…I honor and appreciate your courage and depth and sensitivity and sanity. I’m glad too my essay touched you; may you touch others of all walks of life with your big heart. I am sharing your blog and wil lreturn myself as well. Warmly, Jack

    • Wow, I write so often and get so few comments, it didn’t even occur to me that you’d read my reaction to your article. Thanks so much for stopping by but even more thank you for having the ability to put into words such cogent thoughts on a broad and serious topic. I took away much more from your writing than this post says but yes, it was a catalyst for me doing a little emotional cleaning and for that I am very grateful. I look forward to reading more of your writing.

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