The mushrooms spoke to me . . .”
Twenty five years ago, Terrence McKenna foretold what appears, in the main, at least “in the news,” to be the condition of life on earth today. And he speaks of what this development portends.
In other words, is Elon right about Mars? Must we become a space-faring species? Either that or go extinct?
Very unfortunate, how it appears that we haven’t been able to make peace with either each other or with the natural world.
Instead, we fight and fight and fight, one way or another, with vibes or words or bullets or bombs, it’s all the same. The clashing of idiotic egos bent on getting their own way.
In other words, individualism, run amuck.
https://x.com/zacharysisson3/status/1847699859282780268?s=61&t=aUBDiSUrvn0aSlRBtZx0wQ
I’ve long said that on my tombstone will be inscribed the words, “She opened space.” For that is my goal, my purpose, my drive. And the key to opening space is to continuously invoke the dynamic dance of the opposites.
(Actually, there will be no tombstone, since I want my ashes to fertilize our Green Acres Permaculture Village garden, just the way my portion of my father’s ashes did. Likewise, I scattered my portion of my very social mother’s ashes on the flower gardens surrounding the patio, in the back, where we hold our community gatherings.)
So. . . here . . . Individualism, AND Community. BOTH. We’ve been invoking and grounding this precious paradox, as a living template of what we can do to foster community in the individualistic suburbs, for nearly two decades now.
Here’s an essay I wrote that speaks to this issue:
An example, yesterday, when we who now live here in these three houses gathered, as usual, on Sunday morning at 9 AM, to accomplish a task best done as a group. At this point, tasks are determined by Elisha, a long time community member, and our new garden manager (she bought the third house from me last August).
Our task was to clear, making ready for spring planting, and put chips down on a new path parallel to the street — all in the ignored area outside the main garden fence on E. DeKist St. We took a small tree down in the process, which was shading part of the garden. So more sun next growing season!
Here we are, outside together, working.
Here we are, on the patio, gathering at noon for weekly lunch afterwork party.
And here’s the finished product.
So, despite the odds, I’m wagering that we humans can grow up here on our dear Mother Earth, by learning to balance the opposites, the way she does — light and dark, roots and branches, bud and bloom, winter and summer, on and on. We are not just unique individuals, we are also (enlivened by) community. At every level, but especially, and specifically, for us, here, locally, we are re-membering how, in tiny Green Acres Permaculture Village, inside Green Acres Neighborhood, inside Bloomington, Indiana.
I would wager that millions of tiny lotuses like ours are flourishing in the fetid waters of the collective swamp.
We are NOT the only one.
Seems to me that in order to get ready to depart for the stars we need to figure out how to flourish here, on earth, first.
Else we just export our own rot elsewhere!
