Читать книгу For the Beauty of the Earth - N. Thomas Johnson-Medland - Страница 7

Introduction

Tom’s Introduction

“But no matter how kindly we feel, we will never be able to participate

in healing the world around us as long as we keep seeing Nature

as something different from ourselves.”

—Gerald May, The Wisdom of the Wilderness

Growing up today is a complex task. Not only do we have to exert an immense sense of discernment and discrimination in regard to identity, sexuality, digital media/devices, terrorist threats, safety, political ambiguity, waning familial and social structures, financial instability, and unresolved healthcare issues (including plans and treatments), we have to be able to process all of this information and emerge with some sort of stable and hopeful outlook that will enable us to live among the open-endedness of the contemporary milieu.

WOW!

Add to that that we live in an age that gluts itself on the non-stop rendering of visual and audible media that reminds us of the dismal facts above on a round the clock basis and continual loop of replay. That is even tougher. That constant barrage makes it harder to hold out hope against all of the odds.

Then, there is the issue of the planet and its degradation. It is tied to the issue of our presence on the planet. How long will civilization—as we now know it—continue to survive? How long will it continue to survive as we now know and expect it to be? How long will we continue to mess up the earth?

Imagine how that must be for a child; how it must feel to know all of that. Imagine the constant portrayal of images they see about their world. Imagine having all the heaviness of that world woven into the simple pathways of life and nurturance. That world present in your growing up; woven into your overall health, well-being and development. Imagine how all of that world impacts the parents raising those children.

What kinds of songs would we sing to you—as a child in that world? What kinds of songs would you sing with your playmates in that world? What games would you play in that world? How would your spirit of hope be shaped by all of that constant harping of control, over-control, destruction, and mayhem in that world? What would the fabric of a childhood be made of in order to clothe it against these odds in that world?

You would have to sing some childhood songs that are dark and pick up where “Ashes, Ashes, We all fall down” left off. These are burdensome and oppressive times. It is a wonder that children can find the time to pretend in the sandbox, build forts and castles underneath forsythia bushes, and develop whole communities of imaginary friends that love them.

Hopefully they still can. It is worrisome when schools begin to remove recess and play from the life of our children.

Having grown up in the shadow of the BOMB and having provided supportive care to post Cold War generations of children and their parents (both in crisis), I have seen a lot of distrust and instability in people—individually and in communities. I have seen how the shadow of impending doom can rewrite a way that people live.

This distrust and instability is not a personal issue. It is a sign and symptom of having lived in a time when the imagination can harbor not simply notions of tribal decay and destruction, but the decay and destruction of all tribes, in all places, and throughout all future time. We can wipe out everything that exists within the realm of our planet—IN AN INSTANT. This changes who people are. This changes how people grow and develop.

The current earth crisis is large. It looms overhead and in our homes. It is more visible and prevalent than the crisis of THE BOMB. Everything we pick up and discard is a reminder that we have a problem. In many ways this crisis is more severe than THE BOMB. In this crisis everyone has a button they can push to bring destruction. We have more madmen to worry about. EVERYONE. Everyone has an impact on global ecologic and climate issues.

In some households, children will grow up with parents that say they do not believe there is a human impact on the earth; that there is no global climate change as a result of industry, commerce, and consumerism. This same child will go to school and have dozens of opinions on the issue pasted on the hearts and walls all around him/her. They will also have their own emotional beliefs and connections to these issues that represent their own understanding. It is complicated.

There is very little space given to children to share how they feel about what is going on inside of them about their earth island home. This book is a place in time and space for some to share what is going on inside. These are words from children of the earth.

I have always loved the earth. Since my earliest recollections of childhood, I would have remained ever in the out of doors if given the chance and or the choice. Some of that was to escape the confines of domestic work and enclosure, but more was about a love of all things wild and growing. Even still, I would rather stand in the rain, inhaling the scent of the verdant and moist universe all around me; bringing it inside me, and melding it to my “me,” than do anything else. It beats just about anything.

When I consider that this planet has been changing (ever so slightly each year since I was young), I become troubled. I become troubled and nervous. The nervousness comes from being ignored when I talk about it. It also comes from having two sons that I plan on leaving the earth to when I am dead and gone. I am troubled and nervous because it is the very earth we are all standing on that is changing; and in not such good ways, and rapidly.

People are at a “dis-connect” when it comes to this issue. They spend a lot of time—far more than should be wasted—on sidestepping the issues and dreaming up counter-theory theories on how the theorists are theorizing wrong. People say things like “There can’t be global warming; look at all of the snow.” They do not allow themselves to realize that this snow is exactly the point. The massive and erratic swing in weather conditions is a sign of the shifting and changing climate.

They say, “Global climate change is a myth.” The real myth is the myth the oil companies spun to throw us off the scent and get congressional allies following the red herring down the path. That myth is that there is no human impact behind the changes in the climate. That, I am afraid, is a lie.

I do not want to go into a lot of activist language here. I want to talk about love here. I love the earth. I love the smell of the dirt. I love the tenderness of fresh springtime blossoms. I love the power of the wind. I love the crackling of thunder. I love the processes of growth and diminution that emerge in a cycle that is much larger than my life alone. I love to be dwarfed by the awe of a mountain. I love getting lost in the wild.

I believe that when we begin to look deeply into the love we have for the earth and the wild, then we will begin to see our connection to the earth. Once we begin to nurture the idea that we are connected to the earth, it will not be long before we recognize we are somehow one with the earth—at one with all creation. Love is the entrance way into community and union.

I hope you find here in the words of these poets some pathways into love. Listen for the things that excite them about the earth. Feel the things they are in love with. Share the sorrows they write concerning our sister planet—their present and future lifeline. Hear what they are saying in their images, in their colors, and in their adjectives. Feel the depth of connection the bridges they write reveal. Theirs is a brave new world.

You will find an immense depth in their craftsmanship. You will feel pride well up inside you from what they paint. You will feel shame bring your eyes to the ground. Tears of joy and sadness will be yours from simple and open hearts. Do not hinder the effects of their lyrics. These songs are theirs. They share them freely with you.

To you poets, who have opened the ken of your words, “Do not stop”. Make sure you continue the process by writing more and more. Open the doors of your heart and let emotion, thought, feeling, and impression find their way to the page. Read your words to your friends. Post your words in social venues. You are the prophets for a new world—a world of people that think before they drive, consume, and discard.

The ground on which we stand is too precious to be ignored. When people fail to remember we stand on all that has come before, then they have no regard for what they are leaving for others to stand on. We are those people.

When I clutch a handful of soil, I feel the blood of my ancestors, the howling of all creation, and the subtle stillness of the silent trees. I feel the Creative Father. It is all in there. Remind people how to hold the dirt. Help them feel what it is that is in there. Help them to listen to all it has to teach. Without your honest vulnerability, I am afraid the oil lobbyists will win. This is not their earth; it is yours. Sing your songs, poets. We are all children of this beautiful earth.