The last act
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work
and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.”
― Wendell Berry
These days . . . I don’t have much to say.
In fact, when I do sing my chosen song, it feels bygone, remote and altogether from another era.
. . . And who the hell wants to hear that?
Not many people I know.
Instead, or so it seems to me, we’re locked in a merciless battle, not so much to make sense of life, but to distract ourselves with a plethora of things, experiences and realisations.
Imagine though if we stopped running long enough to realise that we and our forebears are slowly sinking under the weight of our extractive and consumerist needs and wants. Not for all but even those who haven’t got or aren’t living their best life possible, want it all; and want it now.
What am I trying to say?
Simply this: the Fat Lady has sung her last song apropos of the Anthropocene and it doesn’t matter now about grossly exceeding 1.5C or heatwaves or deaths or anything at all for that matter. It’s full steam ahead to a post-apocalyptic world. Of course, there are plenty of people who are full of blissful optimism but I’m not one of them. In fact, if I were to sum up my message right now it would be:
I know. Hardly the most inspiring exhortation with which to start another murky day of (in most cases) earning a livng.
But there it is.
Take care my friends.
Blessings,
Julian