We can’t excuse ourselves. We can’t just say “Look the world is way too much for me—famines, strikes, bombs, hatred, bigotry, so on and so forth. I think I’ll sit this one out.” We are in the world, we are of the world.
What a mess the world is. It has always been this way. The forces of good and evil. It seems as though evil and chaos will win and other times, like when Pope Francis is in Mexico bringing his message of love, it seems as though perhaps, divine light and reason will out.
What I do know is that the universe is a messy violent place. Birth comes from violence. Even seeds need to bust out of their seed coats. A little violence for sure, but life is assertive and frequently downright aggressive.
The thing is, I want to wrap my seed coat around me, hug it tight, stay in.
This little dude above has slipped off his seedcoat. He has busted out and is stretching for all he’s worth. Sun, sun, sun, air and room. New growth delights me.
Little does he know that there’s a big old brogue just waiting to clomp down on him, or a rabbit (perhaps Peter) wanting to nibble on those sweet greens, or a slug–ugh, a slug, or a fucking drought, or a war. See what I mean? You can turn this bit of hope into a nightmare.
And yet, and yet, those first bits of Spring, that first day where the air goes kind of balmy, and the sun and rain compete for equal time and the new growth peeps out, is cause for joy.
Why? Because it’s all we have. Because it’s comfort in a storm, because life will out.
So get involved as you can, and insulate yourself if you must, but remember, life will out.
Hello. Yes, this is Dog 