Tuesday, September 28, 2010

In Fall and Winter, We Dwell Within

In spring, summer and fall, mingling friends and neighbors engage in affable tete-a-tete. With its arrival, cinereal winter evokes a sacred privacy which no other season presents. Only during the chilly austerity of winter can one take pleasure in lengthy, hushed stretches to savor what’s truly significant to the soul and our shared planet. In winter there’s so little to do, you can permit yourself the luxury of fertile contemplation while percolating earthly lessons. As the garden peacefully slumbers, enumerable activities occur deep within the musky, sustaining soil. Just like humans, gardens use this time to process and stow away knowledge from previous seasonal experiences; a time for rebuilding, reinforcing root systems, and for restoring cosmic vitality.

Most Americans still believe we have no alternative to the food contrived by agribusinesses Raptors who care as little about our ecosystem and family’s health as they do about the health of the barn animals so tightly packed in pens and cages on factory farms that the floor is scarcely visible, and covered in wastes. If we are to survive, we must adapt and affect change. Every living thing was designed to cope with environmental factors like clean air, water, soil, light and temperature.

For emerging seekers yet to blossom, daily life goes on in complete disconnect from the adverse impacts their daily choices and activities have on the third star from the sun and the holy temple, our original home. Our collective minds harbor blind spots blocking our ability to see the fallout of contentedly suckling from the teats of Big Food and our dietary support of agribusiness eco-terrorists; a crisis of culture that has a gargantuan impact on all of the planet’s flora and fauna; beauty beyond human portrayal. Happily, many developing greenies are growing more conscious how their beige behavior impacts how people live to the far corners of the earth.

At the commencement of the twenty-first century, society lost touch with what may be the singular sensibility fundamental to our survival as a species; a green, reverent, sustainable culture. Might winter be the time to consider how ‘modern’ life has diminished our innate, heavenly skills and wisdom? As the temperature drops, the days get shorter, animals, bugs, and plants have gone to sleep, the sun appears so low in the sky it appears as though it will never return. In peace-filled darkness, we become more conscious of the wondrous unknowns of life, loss, death, rebirth, and the natural rhythms of life on Earth.

Stoke a warming fire, sit next to the summer plant you befriended and brought inside for the winter, then reflect on how our species threatens to consume and befoul the natural world at a rate far exceeding our planet's carrying capacity; scrutinize your life habits as you continue the voyage of greening your life and home. Before the Industrial Revolution, our lives were intimately tied to the seasons, and we developed traditions to express these transitional times in unique ways. Each season had its own customs represented in symbols created for the celebrations; spring was about the rebirth of life on earth, summer about cultivation and fruitfulness, autumn about harvest and spiritual attunement, and winter was about the return of light in the midst of darkness. Dig into the reserves you accumulated during the year; a perfect occasion to bask in the glow of your imagination. Grab grandmother’s afghan and curl up with your Kindle, drift off to your favorite tunes, or journal your reflections perchance to discover your soul overflowing with clarity, like stars painted onto the infinite, cobalt, frost-polished heavens.

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