Jupiter's Light
There is always loss and life. The difference is time.
Everything has accelerated our 2020 world view within ourselves. How long did we think we could move so fast with little relationship? How long did with think we could consume our world without a response from it? Life and Death have meaning. Without knowing this, humans will only deepen with loneliness.
Humans must grieve for life when it's lost.
In 2020 the losses have been great—human life, spiritual life, social life, animal life, forest life, mineral life, insect life, planetary life, and the slow sometimes fast and violent death of oxygen and clean water. We require time to grieve the inequities in shelter and economy, time to confront brutality on the innocents, time to right starvation of food, shelter and love and for the terror it creates.
With courage, together we turn, to see that we, humans, are the main problem. That we have created a disastrous world by our fear of nature, and by our contempt for it. If we rise up wiser, this year may show itself to be the apex of loss depending on how the general election in America turns out. The world is watching.
There is no way to run away from our human predicament without bringing these problems along. The people who think there will somehow be a new religion on Mars are deluded by their own grandiosity. The people who move to create dystopian or utopian futures are equally insane, sometimes in an unharmful way called entertainment. The people who cling to the distant or recent past of the way things were in their version of good old days long for a bubble that has disintegrated.
Our dis-integral beginnings are not with the murder of George Floyd, not by the calling in of US military 82nd airborne with their bayonets to be used on civilians, not with the rubber bullets and tear gas blasted onto peaceful multi-racial Black Lives Matter protesters. Our dis-integral relationship didn't begin with hate crimes against LGBTQ+-Americans or Muslim-Americans or Mexican-Americans or Asian-Americans or asylum seekers who have been sadistically and illegally separated and caged. It didn't begin with the 2020 deadly global pandemic allowed to pillage 220,000 since recording in March. After six months and counting, about 1000/COVID deaths/day, Americans of all ages are dying but especially seniors, all races are dying but especially people of color, markedly in African-American, Latinx-American, Native American communities.
Maybe, dis-integral life began with disaster itself.
How do we grieve when all seems lost, when loss doesn't quit? Some humans forego their capacity with stagnation, little effort with justifications that there's no more to learn. Or reinforcing a manmade threshold of expertise where requirements for fresh acquisitions of knowledge and or new experience, is deemed unnecessary. And it is, precisely at that moment, the choice comes to begin with great effort, to begin to unlearn. Not to un-know. To unlearn. Then not to leave unlearned.
The California wildfires effected us like the Australian bush fires effected us, like the fires set in the Amazon rain forest effected us. Anyone reading that line thinking otherwise is facing that moment of choice to begin. Begin to unlearn in order to learn.
Our ridge was burnt to the ground. All shelters of beautiful homes for humans and wildlife were burnt to the ground. We were fortunate though that all the humans were evacuated safely. But the forest, wildlife and its ecosystems were destroyed. For decades our ridge was a sanctuary giving birth to dance, painting, art making films, producing for the mpowerdance project. The fire changed all that. The sanctuary mother home is wounded, dying and changing.
Within this change an unexpected sorrow appeared. A specific grief not separated from the make up of 2020 thus far.
Star gazing. Star bathing.
Months had gone by without witnessing the night sky without feeling the flicker of starlight vibrate its resonance. In less than a week 13,000 lightening strikes and almost 600 wildfires started during an already severe heatwave. How do the firefighters survive this? The explosive fires created freakish "firenadoes" and after weeks months, some have been extinguished, unbelievably. Post-inferno, nothing manmade remains in tact. Stones explode. There is no moisture left in smoky charred air, oxygen is scarce, carbon dioxide abundant. So how did one wooden star gazing adirondack chair survive when the others that sat next to it did not?
The first star to rise yesterday, in the northern California south sky was actually a planet. Jupiter. Bright, clear light in the fading blue sky. Jupiter brings joy to grief like the archangel Gabriel or the great works of the Tao. It's healing light moves throughout whether noticed or unnoticed. When humanity cries out Jupiter sends its message "We've been here before. We'll be here again."
You have been here before. You will be here again. Take nothing for granted. Action and inaction have consequences.
It is difficult the labor of love. It demands of us not without laughter and good company. May we continue to grow by an unusual effort, unlearning the nonsensical conditioned fears. So that, we can be alive through our many lessons in this lifetime, before death comes.
We've come so far and there's further on.
Below is a one minute clip called "Jupiter's Light" a song and a message arrived from grief.
