Imagine a world in which things could be made to last, and repaired as necessary. We don't live in that world, but one in which complex devices are made to blow each other up.
I'm reminded of the American bombing in Viet Nam. We would drop cluster bombs on villages to kill the Viet Cong... each bomb costing thousands of dollars, when if we were to drop Kubota tractors as an alternative to bombs we'd have saved millions of dollars and made friends instead.
There's an article in this month's National Geographic about people living on a small island in the Indian ocean that just wants to be left alone. They defend their solitude by shooting arrows at anyone who lands on their beaches. And of course, they are right. They see the detritus from our civilization in the form of plastic waste arriving each day on the tides and know that what we are doing to the planet should be avoided.
In the news we see children's bodies in body bags, and must remember that each has parents and grandparents that felt them sacred to their own lives. Can we not see that we are one, that there is no other, and that we must begin to act as though we are each sacred to each other? I say this as a new grandparent concerned for the safety and protection of my own grand child.
We have a lovely fall day in the Ozarks. The leaves are falling as they must do each year for refreshing and renewal. If they were not to fall, the ice and snow would tear our trees apart. There are people who drive hundreds of miles to see what I see from my porch. At this point about half of my new book has been turned over to production. What remains is in the hands of my editor for review.
Make, fix and create...
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