We as a species, in all
industrialized lands, have unknowingly left behind so much of us, by leaving
behind old ways of knowing.
Of knowing intrinsically and in our waking and our dreams. Of knowing that this mountain range, whose foothill I live and breathe and eat and sleep upon, is alive in every way.
The profound knowing of this is not fanciful and it is not irrelevant.
It is central to our access to our own wisdom and measured judgement, and our capacity to bring ourselves wisely and firmly back into balance, after we have strayed. In the ways of the Old Ones, from wherever we have come.
It has not been as long for many of color here in this land, not as long from the wisdom of their Old Ones.
So for them, despite the grave injustices done to them then and now, by my own people, they are grounded in these ways.
And if they wish, they can , far more easily than my people, reach into the
earth , and find the wise ways of their people. The groundedness, the forbearance, the fortitude, and the wisdom.
For my own, we have been so long far from home, our connectedness to these old ways is but a dream we disbelieve, even when it visits us.
We try to whip up our adolescent strength and use our impatience and tender our cruelty.
But we have little of what our ancestors knew so well, so long ago.
And every day, we are drawn to tech and the superficial and the imperialist and the self-involved needs, so much so, that we have hardly enough wisdom or strength or maturity to come together, even when we have some consciousness of what is right and good for all.
Some of us are so immature and so self-absorbed we then only care for our own immediate needs.
We turn contort our religions to justify our selfishness, and our bitterness at not having that which we want, unmoved by how others we have subjugated have always even less.
It is never helpful to romanticize others.
But it seems to me that those of us whose ancestors came here and harmed others and took a self-involved position, in our own eyes, will be the ones who ruin the earth the most, and reap the least.
Of knowing intrinsically and in our waking and our dreams. Of knowing that this mountain range, whose foothill I live and breathe and eat and sleep upon, is alive in every way.
The profound knowing of this is not fanciful and it is not irrelevant.
It is central to our access to our own wisdom and measured judgement, and our capacity to bring ourselves wisely and firmly back into balance, after we have strayed. In the ways of the Old Ones, from wherever we have come.
It has not been as long for many of color here in this land, not as long from the wisdom of their Old Ones.
So for them, despite the grave injustices done to them then and now, by my own people, they are grounded in these ways.
And if they wish, they can , far more easily than my people, reach into the
earth , and find the wise ways of their people. The groundedness, the forbearance, the fortitude, and the wisdom.
For my own, we have been so long far from home, our connectedness to these old ways is but a dream we disbelieve, even when it visits us.
We try to whip up our adolescent strength and use our impatience and tender our cruelty.
But we have little of what our ancestors knew so well, so long ago.
And every day, we are drawn to tech and the superficial and the imperialist and the self-involved needs, so much so, that we have hardly enough wisdom or strength or maturity to come together, even when we have some consciousness of what is right and good for all.
Some of us are so immature and so self-absorbed we then only care for our own immediate needs.
We turn contort our religions to justify our selfishness, and our bitterness at not having that which we want, unmoved by how others we have subjugated have always even less.
It is never helpful to romanticize others.
But it seems to me that those of us whose ancestors came here and harmed others and took a self-involved position, in our own eyes, will be the ones who ruin the earth the most, and reap the least.
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