I spent the holiday working, kind of. I have been helping family with painting the house they just bought. I appreciate the physical labour in a setting where I can move in the ways that I can honour my body. She lives a little over an hour away though, so there is a fair bit of driving involved. That place where the thoughts flow.
It’s full on Autumn, and the truck said it was four degrees outside when I left the house this morning. Which is why I am currently sitting in front of a fireplace, wrapped up in multiple layers of clothing, with a warm pup cuddled up at my side. But the trees were beautiful today from the cab of my truck with a heated seat and steering wheel. I love Autumn; I hate the cold. How ambivalent, but not the only thought that I had in that category during my drive.
The trees had me thinking about forestry mismanagement, which then led me to thinking about how humans have managed to damage the earth in so many ways. As a species, we view the things within and from the earth as a resource. Renewable, non-renewable those are just labels that we have given these things in relation to how we use them and whether or not we can regenerate them within the timespan of a human lifetime. What a weird way to justify consumption.
I frequently fantasize about living in an era where things take time. Where immediacy and profits aren’t the motivating factors of decision-making. Where if you wanted a new piece of furniture, clothing, or art, you had to find someone to make it, or make it yourself. Where if something is broken, the response is to fix it, not replace it; where regular people are capable of doing so. Little things like falling leaves can send my train of thought down those paths. Because everything in life is that deep.
Here comes the contradiction, though. Finding the joy in the Autumn colours; crunching the leaves under your feet just to hear the sound. Noticing. Those moments are the ones that are the most meaningful. Those are the moments where I find myself thinking life’s purpose is simply the experience. It is what you make of it. Being in the here and now is enough; you only have the current moment, what has happened isn’t now, and what is coming is unknown. It is the time when I realize that nothing is that deep.
So, is everything that deep or is nothing that deep?
Both, I think. Using humour in my most traumatic experiences as a tool to process. Craving solitude and quiet, but despising it when they are imposed on me. Rejecting the state of the world, but being grateful for not being ignorant of it. Feeling called to change things, but accepting that in many ways control is out of my hands. Living life in a juxtaposition seems to be my default mode.
Until tomorrow 🖤
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