Sometimes the nearly unbearable beauty of the world overwhelms me, and I tremble with a felt-sense of the magnificence that saturates the Cosmos. And then, I wonder how the mysterious, self-organizing wild Earth can peacefully co-exist with the catastrophes and destructions of human invention. How do I hold both the magnificence and tragedy of the world, as I stand at a threshold to the future? How can I choose wisely going forward? Does it have to be this way?
I want to move from abstract ideas to embodied experiencing, from the idea of grief to lived grief, the kind that wracks the body and leaves indelible scars. What of the future for my grandchild to be born, and her grandchildren? When everything I was taught is seemingly falling apart around me, including my inherited beliefs and values? How do I allow myself to feel the enormity of our time without shutting down?