Earth Gazer

Great and passionate video of Julia Butterfly Hill . She talks about 'separation syndrome' as in we are able to think of ourselves as separate from nature, separate from where resources are taken from and separate from where we dump our 'waste', creating a 'Disposability Consciousness'. She spoke with many native tribes and asked whether they had any native words for 'waste, disposable or trash' - they did not, because all traditional knowledge knows that there is no such thing. Some key quotes that I got from the video are: "When you say you are going to throw something 'away' , where is 'away' ?" "It's only called waste if you're not using it properly"  "We cannot have peace on the earth, unless we also have peace with the earth"  "Our disposability consciousness is a weapon of mass destruction"

‎"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." ~ Anaïs Nin Image source:  http://journeytovenus.blogspot.com/2011/09/fleurs.html

“Our bodies know what is right, if only we listen to them. Beneath the enculturation, beneath the addiction, beneath the psychopathology, our bodies remember that we are meant for something better than this, that we are not apart from our human and nonhuman communities, but a part of them, that what we allow to be done to our landbase (or our body) we allow to be done to ourselves. Our bodies remember a way of being not based on slavery—our own and others’—but on mutual responsibility.” — Derrick Jensen, Endgame I've only read essays and online articles by Derrick Jensen. His book, Endgame, is on my reading list. Whilst I don't agree with everything he has said, or some of the people he associates with, there are some very intriguing aspects to his views that resonate with me and where I am at this point in time.

Do not stand at my grave and weep  I am not there, I do not sleep  I am a thousand winds that blow  I am the diamond glints on snow  I am the sun on ripened grain  I am the gentle Autumn rain.  When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush  of quiet birds in circling flight  I am the soft star-shine at night  Do not stand at my grave and cry  I am not there, I did not die…