It was easy and heroic to maintain this seclusion for a while, when it was new, when we were constantly problem-solving. When our confinement was itself movement into the unknown. But at this point, I have depleted my internal resources.
Can I let go of my need for every moment of this terrible time to be productive or meaningful or insight-giving? What will it be like to let this time be: let it be its frustrating, tedious, anxious and sad self, without the pressure of having to be the source of global transformation or personal enlightenment?
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Talmud says a dream uninterpreted is like a letter left unread. What does this if-only-it-were-a-dream time have to say to us?
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When I stood at that cemetery on that rainy hilltop, I felt seen. Not that I in particular was foreseen, but that the possibility of me had been contemplated.
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In that moment, all I could do was be. I couldn't talk or text or think. I became the Universe. The Universe was 5'11" long and shaped like me. I was all there was. I was me being ill. And me being the Universe. And the Universe experiencing being ill. I was a complete unity of body and soul, individual and whole, supine on grey carpet under florescent lights.
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Together we can be a refugium – protectors of life. We can bring all our distinctiveness – our skills, our smarts, our songs – whatever the Tree of Life planted in us. Bring all of that to this community and to the other communities in which we are rooted around the world. We can share this vision, this consciousness, this love and longing at the root level, the way trees speak over distance through the mycelial network. We will be the protectors of people, places and creatures in need through the hard times, and the restorers and renewers of the landscape on the other side of it.
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