what’s deeper than…
the skin of soil or vegetation upon which I lay my hands each day for solace, ecstasy, rootedness and simply to remember that I am nature – an inextricably interconnected part of the entire web of life –
is a rumbling, dynamic, roaring, energetic, living substrate so much more
powerful than Frail Human
what’s deeper than…
the daily agitation of neighbors whose decibel tolerance exceeds mine and whose teenage sons aggress against trees with darts, against fences with plastic ammo, and against one another with liberal doses of profanity
is a community of equals, humans who stand outside in jammies with
flashlights at 3:22 AM to be sure their next door neighbors are unharmed by
the quake
what’s deeper than…
the broken bed frame, the power outage, the irreparable television screen, the chipped artwork, the thousand tiny pieces of broken ceramic handicrafts each with a personal history over decades
is the reaching outward to friends who have no water, no chimney, no safe
haven and to offer support from the compassionate repository of healing, the
heart
what’s deeper than…
the childhood anecdotes of cracks in walls, fallen fences, hovering in doorways at home or under desks at school
is the longevity of Story - those threads woven out of life experience, the
longer term vision of adulthood, faith, and spirituality into a textured fabric of
vitality, passion, forward movement, and the refusal to wallow in trivialities
what’s deeper than…
the label of “State of Emergency,” disaster relief vans, helicopters, sirens, red Unsafe to Enter tags, yellow barricade tape, temporary shelters
is the continuity of a place, a culture, a geography, rolling hills on east and
west, the sunrises and sunsets, a sliver of moon, and the valley’s breeze
I’ve spent much of this week, while hands and heart do their work of cleaning and outreaching,
in meditation on the capacity of this planet to hold and nurture, to rock and rupture, to grow and feed, to blow-blaze-tremble-flood into oblivion…
I have meditated into unwavering respect for this terra firma, an infinitely deeper and vaster awe than I had a few days ago.
What’s at depth below the crashing plates of a 6.0 is the steadfastness of a hot viscous asthenosphere:
my burning piety. rapture. fidelity. zeal
for Teal Earth.
(Orig. posted just after the big earthquake in 2014 in Napa, California - where we then lived.)
