Deeper Reflections

July 19 - Cooney Lake

And now time for some reflections. I just spent some time watching little fish leap from the tranquil reflecting pool that is Cooney Lake, snatching ephemeral mosquitoes out of the air (they are ephemeral only in the sense that human eyes cannot pick them out over the glassy water, but their presence is very tangible as they gather en masse around me). It reminded me of the chipmunk, which was probably snatched up by something during the day, from the sheltered spot I placed him. It wasn’t the death of the chipmunk that brought me such grief, but that it was due to human carelessness, unlike the thousand mosquito deaths (murders!) I witnessed just now at the hands of the fish (or fins, I should say). It was the same sadness you feel when you pass old growth stumps and clear-cuts, or dirt-bike tracks in tranquil meadows, or when you read about the destruction of indigenous people’s way of life, which was our life before we forgot how to live with the world. This brings me to other thoughts that I had today. For the past few months, especially now, I have been trying to figure out what to do with my life (as if I’m not doing something now), what career, if any, to pursue, where to live, etc. I realized today I want to be near my parents, my loved ones, my siblings (Jimmy!). There are those who would say that I’m refusing to grow up, that I need to move on a make something of myself. Those are the same people that know nothing of life, or not much, and are also members of the sad majority that thinks that wealth, fame, and accomplishment are all life is about, the end all be all. Families are meant to be, to stay, together. I have no desire for awkward bi-annual holiday visits and tearful goodbyes. For hundreds of thousands, perhaps million of years, this is how it was. This is how it should be. Generations (multiple) under one roof, or at least the same area, no more than one our drive, for sure, sharing the love that can only be shared by mothers and fathers, daughters, sons, grandparents, nieces, and the like. I’m not homesick, this is a natural, undeniable, instinctual pull that few have the guts to follow. I yearn for conversations by the fire in the winter, family meals (however insane the debates get), and why shouldn’t I? There will come a day when all are dead and gone, and this will no longer be an option. I refuse to be forced to look back one day and think of ‘what could have been’. I have nothing to thank but these wide open spaces that foster such thoughts. Thank you, sweet gentle, beautiful, unforgiving nature for clearing out the static of societal expectations and SHEER, UTTER, BULLSHIT, that is the sad, soulless, unloved-and-unable-to-love world that we call home, not the earth itself, only the vast majority of those who walk upon it.

But take heart, it is us who hope to dilute the sadness with love in our hearts and empty pockets, smiling all the while. The forgotten, who seem to truly remember, it comes easy to our minds, one day eyes will open. Soon, I can only hope.

Te amo, mundo, buenas noches.