Walking Among The Broken

As I was walking I began studying the people around me, things I never really took note of before:

Seeing nothing and feeling even less, these people, caught in the rip current of their world, a man-made representation which is already overpopulated, sadly becoming more so at an alarming rate.

Overlaid with a veneer of what we feel our world should be, we wonder at nature, nature is wonderful, beautiful, and wild, as long as it is concrete or plastic wrapped for sanitation or displayed behind bars.

We like to touch it, but it had better not touch back! Spray it, mould it, rape it, 99.9% germ free but you should wear those gloves and face mask just in case. “That person just shook my hand! Where is my sanitizing gel?”

When did this happen to us? We can never leave it alone, can we, we never could. Where has it gotten us? We are so far removed from nature, our birthright, and our true home. We have become startled deer staring at certain death in a headlight so bright the free will to escape is lost. We fight a lifelong battle for the illusion of control over a living force. A force that frequently, with a pass of its hand or with a disgruntled sigh, vividly reminds us where control truly lies. Our memory is short and very selective.

To lay spread eagle in a green field on a sunny day with nothing providing input, but senses that do not require batteries or recharging. Wanting more is highly overrated when needing less is truly what we require. Less material clutter and less distraction, not always feeling we need to acquire something. What are we trying to fill? Is time not the one thing we constantly complain about having too little of? What other dark, bottomless, insatiable void exists in our lives?

We are trying to shut off the outside world by providing constant noise, but how is that working for you? Stressed, nervous, tired, and uneasy? Shed the nihilistic blinders and try shutting out the false image of the world we have created and open to the world we were born into. A world that has been here long before you and me and will remain long after our dust becomes a small part of that which we struggled against so futilely in life to be apart from.

Sdallen

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