Growing up, you could count on your siblings, and the woods. So we did. Some of us remained that way for life, getting to know small places and large, developing abiding affection, excited always to wake up, and go see who they were today.
Because once you get to know a place really well , you learn a number of things.
You wake up out of your human centric narcissism, and realize that every toad and deer and squirrel and slug and Oak lives there, as their ancestors did before them. It is their homeland.
You wake up and realize you are sharing a neighborhood , that was here long before humans, and will remain long after we are gone.
You realize the living things are not at your beck and call, less important than you.
You come to see how easy it is to be human and make that mistake of imagining hierarchies where there are none, making believe you are plopped right at the top. Not true.
Just because you can bulldoze or dig or lay pipelines or pesticide or block rivers or blow up mountains or shoot and kill or make mistakes and pollute and ruin in ways that will never recover, does not mean you are top dog.
It simply means you are underdeveloped as a being, unaware and immature, cutting off that nose of yours, to spite your face.
When we get to know places , our perception of them and ourselves deepens in ways more complex and profound than we would ever imagined.
Our growing awareness opens our eyes to the devastating harm we cause day after day, to ourselves and others, without even noticing. That is how asleep and shortsighted we can be.
Busy lives looking for busy new exciting distractions and purchases and competition and posturing do not fill our hearts or make our minds peaceful or satisfied.
Getting to know a painting or a neighbor or a place in your neighborhood , day after day, new and different each day, is worth its weight in gold.
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