And then it became obvious. Climate change is my spiritual path. It is larger and grander than my small life. It is urgent. It calls on me to laser focus. To let go of the superfluous. It makes life immediate.
Did you hear the one about the guy who drilled a big hole in his lower level ship stateroom till it filled with water? When asked by his outraged shipmates why he did it, he replied, “This is my room, I paid for it, I can do whatever I want.” The ship sank.
We are, all of us, on that ship.
So every once in a while, I need to clear my head and clear out of town. I need to sit in the middle of silence, stare at the bark of a tree, listen to the pine needles, inhale and let that breath infuse my body.
Just when I thought we were making tracks. Every time I stretch, I discover there’s more stretch to go. It’s one thing to swallow my pride and listen attentively to people I don’t expect to agree with.
Driving through Beverly Hills yesterday, a large metal sculpture on the median strip caught my eye. From several blocks away, it looked to be a perfect red circle mounted against a white backdrop.