Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Strange sun today

Amidst the wildfire smoke, there was a strange sun out this morning - dim and orange, not illuminating the apartment as well as it usually does. Walking outside I felt like I was in a weird dream where a blood moon had become overly bright. 

My CSA newsletter notes that the smoke is affecting the yield from plants on their farms and I wonder if it's because of the strange quality of light I am observing here.

I have been thinking about climate breakdown, of course. It's not just the wildfires, and the way they now strike in areas they weren't seen in before, but the two heat waves one after the other, and the long drought that presaged these wildfires. 

I've been thinking about the Flight Free campaign, in particular, I think because I've been hearing a lot about plane journeys recently. Many people seem to find it unthinkable that someone with sufficient means would refuse to travel by plane. (It's my right as a middle-class millennial to travel, travel, travel, isn't it?)

(I have a lot I could say about consumerism and travel, maybe another time. I remember starting to say something here a long time ago.)

Thich Nhat Hanh refers to the sun as a second heart, "that great heart outside of our body," and the forests of the world as our lungs outside our bodies. He says this about environmental destruction: "We are imprisoned in our small selves, thinking only of the comfortable conditions for this small self, while we destroy our large self."

Similarly, I recently treated myself to a book by Ffiona Morgan - a old-school feminist witch, and the designer of the wonderful, beautiful Daughters of the Moon tarot deck - and found a place where she wrote about how women's bodies mirror the living earth, microcosm and macrocosm of the same divinity, "Goddess Within, Goddess Without."

And I'm recalling Ocean Country, a book about a Bay Area woman exploring the effects on climate breakdown on the oceans. She wrote that in the age of global environmental crisis, what we consider home must be bigger. What we consider family must be bigger.

When I breathe in ideas like this, I find it hard to feel deprived by a life that treads more lightly. It feels like not doing physical harm to my own flesh or bones. It feels like connection and devotion (to self, home, family, reality, our future).

I'm not sure what difference my choices make - that's okay. Sometimes it feels ironic how much attention I give to making the little pieces of my life more environmentally friendly, only to be confronted with a roommate or neighbor or family member who has far more room for impact than I do and thinks far less about changing their ways. But I won't be unhappy in the end, no matter what - I value the sense of the world that my choices give me, and they are good for my spirit.

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