Video cameras are banned from the White House Press Room. Really, really bad guys are running the US government
and hell-bent on destroying civil society so they can plunder at will. They are zombies. “Must have more for me, more for me, more for
me. Kill the others. Kill the others,”
their constant refrain.
Meanwhile I stand rooted to the earth, as my cat rests under
the shade of a giant overgrown eucalyptus tree on a neglected, chaotic corner
of a crumbling, over-priced apartment complex on the edge of the continent, a
block away from the eroding cliffs above the Pacific.
We are all holding on as best we can to this earth, this
place, our humanity and spirit and compassion, in the face of relentless,
soulless assaults on all we hold dear.
Every moment of joy and peace and love, of anger and truth-telling and
standing up for what we believe is creating a new world.
Remain calm and practice tai chi and yoga and
meditation. Sing, pray, move, stand,
sit, whole body, whole heart, whole being.
Protest, march, write, share.
I stand in the sun.
My cat lies in the shade by the root of the tree. My roots spread down from my waist through my
legs and feet like a web throughout the whole planet, yielding to earth’s
gravity, as my spine lightens and lifts, and my crown opens to the gravitational
pull of all the other heavenly bodies. Filaments of light permeating all, a web
that cannot be destroyed because it cannot be grasped, yet responds to every
touch.
A hummingbird sips nectar from the tree.
It is so sweet.
The eucalyptus, an aromatic blue gum tree, is an invasive
species in California that kills off natives, especially understory plants. On this hillside, its shallow roots and
strips of bark cover the dirt. Invasive
weeds that are the only plants to grow in its shade take hold.
The tree has been allowed to grow huge and hairy. I long to trim it, even more to cut it down,
uproot it, and remove the other one too and the two root stumps, and the dead
palm tree, and make a garden here. The
landlord, though, has other ideas—a dog run, supposedly—but in truth, just
neglect. It disturbs my soul.
And yet, a hummingbird sips nectar from the tree, my cat
rests in its shade, and I stand in the midst of it all. I don’t know what to do yet, but bear
witness, and say that when I saw the hummingbird sip the nectar, I felt five
years old again and my heart softened with delight.
In the midst of all this chaos and confusion, may each of us
in our own ways experience such soft, tender, heart delight. May all of our efforts to create a peaceful,
happy home on this earth come from this place and make it so.
