There is life where we don't always see it, and, even when we do see it, we tend to look down upon it. Yet, if we truly contemplate that life--and consider what it has to offer, we may elevate its standing. For example, right now, just below our feet, earthworms are conditioning the soil, making it suitable for the plants that directly or indirectly, give us life.
Maybe if we spoke the same language, we'd say "hey earthworms... thank you!" And they'd say (in a New York accent) "hey buddy... what'd I ever do for you?"
So, yes, maybe they live in their worlds, quite oblivious to us--just doing what they are doing--but this recognition is to instill in us the value they have to us. Gratitude.
It's disturbing how casually people spray Round Up onto the ground. If you walk into a hardware store, you'll see people tossing gallons of it into their carts, without any pause or consideration (perhaps, though, just as innocently as the earthworm turning the soil.)
I've turned to someone (in line behind me) and said... look, no offense, but are you aware of what is in that stuff? I immediately felt dramatic, and the other person immediately felt awkward.
Some people just don't know, and I get that. What is even more disturbing is when people do know and, despite knowing, go on spraying as through they were zombies. Then again, I guess some of us still don't truly, deeply know.
In fact, I happen to know that there's something I don't know right now that I am, no doubt, equally ignorant about... but, holy hell, I just want to shout from the rooftops "hey!... look, that garden over there... that works because of earthworms!"
So, thank you, earthworms, and sorry, because it's quite the shitty day to have poisonous chemicals dumped all over your bodies. Ants probably don't care for it either (or the birds that eat them.)
Funny how we write ants off (as lesser creatures,) yet we can easily observe them operating effectively as a group. Hey, I wonder what that's like!
Some ants farm their own food. They have "complex navigation skills" and show intelligent group behaviors, such as rescuing one another from peril---with, fast, super-coordinated group action. They too are easy to under appreciate, just below our feet with the dirt.
And then, the dirt itself is alive. A teaspoon of soil may have BILLIONS of micro-organisms in it. This is all part of the intricate and delicate latticework of the soil (that makes earth so awesome,) and people are missing the celebration & dumping poison on it.
We're dumping poison on the same ground, you see, that basically feeds us--so that we may live as these human animals that we currently are. Is it difficult to keep your lawn the way you want it? Awww... I'm sorry. There's social pressure and conditioning. We've all felt some form of it.
But duuude come on! Lets extract that big f-you laid upon the earthworm, wrap it up and gift it to the home owner's organization. Here you go, you sadistic mofos!
Ok, I know, they don't know any better either... I get that. In reality, there is no one to blame. Sorry, brothers and sisters, but tragedies are afoot. Priorities.
No, the world doesn't need a spanking... it just needs to wake up. But to face the rebound of our unchecked impacts on the world... that could be a slap like being born.Think micro-organisms are meaningless in comparison to the complex human body? The human body (well, at least 43% of it) is composed of, holy shit, micro-organisms! Are all small things that can't solve a Rubik's cube worthless? Toss that animal a Rubik's cube... can't solve it... well, I guess its okay to test cosmetics on that animal.
That parrot over there is a little more intelligent. It knows like 1000 words. Well, how many words do you know in parrot??? Its like the quote (attributed at least to) Einstein: “Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid."
What if the sun had consciousness (and, to it, we were really small and insignificant.) What if it had an attitude problem, and it threw little sun bolts at earth (out of curious boredom--like that little kid burning ants with a magnifying glass?) How would that be?
From outer space, I don't know that our intelligence makes that grand of an impression. It probably looks like fungus on the face of an orange. A fungus, because it's taking over, yet is notably of different character than its surroundings.
Maybe we'd make our best case... maybe show the sun a photo album (an up close look at our stuff.) Then, maybe, the sun would say "well, that's cool and all... but check this shit out!" (see adjacent photo of flowers). But maybe the sun would know that we are all, after all, squeezed out of the same gloriously entangled, mind-blowing bottle of ketchup, so here's an idea:
How about, with all the concern about ecological issues and cancers and things like that, we stop dumping poison on the soil and supporting companies that make this crap (and actually make money selling it to us.) We stop pulling these strings. We have the power.
Look, its a reality that things depend on each other. They also have some interrelationships that we may wince at, involving, say, eating each other. Still, lets treat the system a little more kindly--since we live on it, breath it, eat it, use it to compose our bodies---and make new people and basically everything else. We literally use it to build our children. We are it and it is us.
Let's stop treating the earth (and everything else living with it) as a separate resource. I know we've been programmed to believe that we are separate, special, little visitors to this place (and that our health exists independently of it.) Don't look down though, because this place is a rare gem that someone, a million miles away, could be searching for.
In fact, someone out there would probably pay a billion dollars for a single teaspoon of this soil. So, lets not wreck it with our ignorant little products--and here's a little fuck you to Monsanto and the billionaires tied to it... and a big giant pat on the back of mother earth (which includes Monsanto, so you can remove the fuck part if you want.)
Okay, here's your red light saber back... and here's a little eye contact with our fellow human beings (presumably hard-working Monsanto employees just thinking about their kid's report cards--and maybe what they are going to feed their family for dinner. Hopefully it's not something grown with Roundup Ready pesticide resistant seeds... an unfortunate invitation of karma.)
[Note that Monsanto was acquired by Bayer and tucked away---so it can be safe from name recognition and increasing public scrutiny. We've got to keep our eye on the ball. If you remember the old Transformers cartoon, think Megatron (who was turned into Galvitron to sell more toys---but, he was still Megatron.)
It's great to extend understanding, but every now and again, it just hits me... and I feel powerless and want to hit the collective pause button, sound the fog horn and wake up the zombies. Because, I see what we could be... but presumably I'm a zombie too, at the whim of some unknown programming.
Its tempting to be mindless & immerse one's self in distractions--as opposed to watching this incredibly intelligent creature (civilized humankind) chew off its own foot, all the while calling it progress. Still, I know there is a lot of positive stuff happening... alternative energy growing... the demand for unadulterated foods growing... our interrelationships revealed. We know... we just know a little too slow.
If we were watching a movie, and we were the characters in it, this is perhaps the moment where the watcher says... No! Don't do that... Don't walk around that corner. Don't trust that person. Don't walk away. Denzel, don't reach into the minifridge and grab that drink...
Yes! stay... and here we are, should we become awake.
Other people don't want to be told what to do (anymore than I want to be told what to do,) but a firework, on occasion, might throw a wrench in the machine--the automated unawareness that slows down our forward momentum into our greater potential.
What are we going to do? How shall we live? How shall we move and flow in this delicate latticework that is alive, outside us, inside us, and right at our feet?
Yard work becomes a more intimate and complicated affair. Perhaps smaller lawns are in order... less to manage, more to witness. Better yet, we can plant native ground cover (and invite nature in rather than chasing it out.) Bring back the butterflies. At the very least we can keep our eyes out for insects, as they scurry away from our cruel machinery.
A message from an earthworm:
"Look here, I may seem smaller than you. I may seem beneath you, but there is no small and there is no up. I am merely closer to the core, hugging close the same ground as you.
I will prepare this ground for you... simply by being who I am, but what I'm not gonna do is just bend over & take it... like your personal giving tree, so please stop spraying chemicals on me.
Understand that I am a finger of a greater hand, one that can smack... and somewhere, in this beautiful madness, we have a pact... We are friends. When I break into pieces, each moves of it's own accord. You and I are like that too, cut from the very same stuff.
Now excuse me, friend, I have work to do... somewhere in the duff. You do too... right?... pulling plants (you do and do not like) out of this garden. Be nice to them too. Lets make the most... of this compost. Word.
Yo, rolly polly armadillidiidae, please step out of the way... coming through... coming through... the soil that is a home to me... that is a home to you. Word."
-Joe Earthworm
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