As I slowly dug my hands into the rich soil of my garden, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.
The news of raging fires in Canada, devouring acres and acres of ancient forests that have stood for centuries, left me with a deep sense of mourning. The refugees' desperate plea for safety, stripped of their homes, their families, and their dignity, weighed heavily on my heart.
As I continued to tend to my flowers, trees, and herbs, I couldn't help but feel the oppressive force that has plagued native people all over the world for centuries. How their land, their culture, and their identity have been pillaged and destroyed time and time again. The once pristine rivers and oceans now filled with a never-ending stream of plastics, choking the life out of our beautiful planet.
But it was the thought of those who walk this earth without community and connection that truly broke me. The ones who are left to fend for themselves, lost and alone, in a world that can sometimes be cruel and unforgiving.
Yet, despite the melancholy that swept over me, I felt a glimmer of hope in my heart. For I knew that opening our hearts to feel it all is what truly allows us to dance with the opposite. As tears of both grief and joy flowed down my face, I felt the love and support of my community enveloping me. It was in those moments that I felt a deep sense of gratitude, knowing that together, we can make a difference.
So, as I planted tiny seeds of love and kindness into the rich earth beneath my feet, I prayed that they would take root and blossom. That each one would be a tiny drop of sanity in this ocean of madness. And that together, we can create a better world, one full of empathy, compassion, and hope for all.
In the wise words of Thich Nhat Hanh, "Our own life has to be our message." Angell Deer