Thoughts on Penance, Original Sin, and Moral Superiority after sitting with my third reading of Kathleen Dean Moore's book, Wild Comfort: I inhabit the body of human who will live and die in these late stages of colonial imperialism. I cannot escape this reality or make the pain of this reality any less sharp. Not by projecting myself as morally superior over others, and not by impoverishing my self spiritually, emotionally, or financially. And where, I wonder, did we ever adopt this idea that humans living in a state of perpetual scarcity and exhaustion offers us some sort of solution or mitigation to industrial resource extraction? That we must be ever busy with the work of making up fer our humaness. That we might never offer ourselves permission to sit silently in repose, watching the day slip away from the warm waters of a wood fired tub on the side of a mountain. That we might never get the opportunity to sit in silent stillness with the forest, waters, meadows, deserts and reflect fully upon who we have been and who we are becoming. To know ecstatic pleasure and love in the company of such beauty and express our awe for these places in prayer and tears. To notice the harshness or impatience expressed towards the ones we luv when we get too overwhelmed or overstimulated by the continuous noise and presence of others and the seemingly inexhaustible demands of life. To remind ourselves to take care with the hearts in our hands, including our very own. And isn't this too, a way of giving back? Doesn't this too, help heal, all of it? Mary Oliver tells me that I do not have to be good, and I believe her. So I will sit and watch for the elderberries to be ready for harvest, and know that the medicine I make is enough.
