I see children who want to change their world, to save their world. I see “adults” who’ve done the damage, created the calamity, attacking the problem solving youngsters. Cowards. Liars. Cretins and curs, all of them, desperate to believe anything but the truth of who they are and of that for which they are responsible, the impending destruction of this beautiful planet and their own goddamn species.
I hold myself accountable. Not for all this wrong, of course. I’m certainly no powerful deity. Not capable of some grand gesture to have caused or to solve this mess. I’m just a man, a cog in a wheel made of billions, who ignored the writing on the wall to chase my own petty desires. And here we are now, so I will apologize.
Dear fellow humans, dear children, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. For my selfish participation. I ignored the call, like most if not all, to be a better version of myself. To be a creature of unabashed giving and devotion to others. And now here I sit, much closer to death than birth, immature illusions shattered, praying to a power I cannot define, praying the children will win. I beg your forgiveness young humans, though undeserved, and offer my soul to the hope you survive this mess we’ve created. Amen.
The Good News
To all the children, it only gets worse from here, but there is good news...
I was on the way to work this morning remembering a loved one. This is an open wound, fresh and tender, and will most likely remain a little taste of daily sadness for the rest of my time here. I can accept that, and try to find the beauty in it all. The sweet, miserable beauty of unrequested existence...
And in the midst of this remembrance, I found myself pondering the acquisition of emotional wounds throughout our days, from birth to the grave. It's the cumulative effect of thousands of paper cuts that never fully heal, with each additional cut adding another little twinge to a lifetime of pain. There will be laughter and joy, and those moments may make this whole deal worthwhile if we let them, but the cuts are always there. They may even prop up the joy, increase the sweet relief that comes with a laugh, but the cuts are always there.
Still, I have good news for the kids, and it is such a simple act of mercy from the Universe, I don't know how I haven't stumbled on this realization before. The question of what took me so long aside, as I was driving and wondering to myself how I was going to put up with all this nonsense for another 20, or 30, or 40 years (If I'm lucky, right? Right?), the following connection finally dawned on me: The longer we live, the more hardship we're exposed to, the more pain we acquire, the faster we pass through this life. Each day seems like it passes faster than the last, and so on and so on until the sweet relief of eternal peace. So, dear children, if you're ever feeling down and wondering how you're going to survive all this madness, just remember, the longer life goes on the faster it moves. This ever accelerating perception of our individual lifetime may actually serve as a tool that heightens your moments of joy and softens the burden of grief. You're welcome.
My friend and I were discussing the sudden uprise of white nationalism, fascism, and their umbrella category, racism. Of course, this current unleashing of the racist hounds was not sudden. It festered and boiled over. But to those of us who were caught off guard when the boil pot blew its top, it felt sudden. Anyway, he and I were discussing the hopefulness in the idea that this was racism's last desperate gasp before the bulk of the human race puts a collective foot down and says those times are gone. At least in our lifetime.
It's only more recently, during this bout of mainstream racism, that I've been exposed to this movement's direct correlation with climate change. Climate catastrophe will cause refugees, millions and millions of brown refugees. Ahhhhhhhhh! I mean, constant fear of evil gangs and corrupt third world governments already created a healthy stream of immigration, but when the Sea rises up and says, "this land is mine now," we're talking about entire populations needing a new, dry place to live.
I've posted about this before, but what struck me today and brought on this freshly crafted piece of excellence is this quasi-spiritual and metaphysical symbiosis between humankind and Mother Nature. We are genuinely living a disaster flick plot line. The only way the planet gets saved is if the good guys win and we take the world's major democracies back from the clutches of evil, racist stupidity. If the bad guys win, the planet is doomed and we all die. Of course, even if the good guys win, it may be too late. Thus, what we're really quite possibly witnessing, is the last desperate gasp of humanity.
Perhaps, and just indulge me here 'cause I am definitely trying to scare young parents, but perhaps all this current sociopolitical strife is the result of a species sensing its demise on a collective subconscious level. AKA, we know Mother Nature's coming for us and e'erbody's freakin the fuck out.
Conceptually, it seems natural the death of a species would be fraught with discord.
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