"throwing the miracle away with both hands"

this morning while mixing my loaves of sourdough, i was listening to how to survive the end of the world, Sibling Series # 11: Faith and Joey Soloway and adrienne named the depression she’s been in lately.

adrienne: 
I know all the time that humans are struggling with figuring out a way to be on this planet, figuring out a good way to be here. I know that we struggle with that. I know that we’re barreling towards climate catastrophe and in it. I know that. But somehow it just was like too much, you know, it’s just like, god, like, we just have this incredible planet {laughs} and we’re just so focused on the wrong things. And we are so easily distracted to focus on the wrong things and, and we’re just throwing the miracle away with both hands, and all feet, and everything. So it pushed me down under


and i realized i’ve been in this grief for a long time and in an ongoing way. and the phrase “throwing the miracle away with both hands, and all feet, and everything,” just felt so accurate. and it’s heartbreaking to just watch (and participate in) it. the heartbreak comes in spurts and waves but it’s here, settled and weighty, pretty much all the time.

i have been taught my lama rod owens how to mourn everything, including when your favorite item on the menu at a restaurant has been taken off (sidenote: i really wish i could find the talk where he explored this but i can’t. 🙁 this tweet isn’t that, but it’s related and good). mourning the small things prepares us to mourn the bigger things. (note imho mourning and grieving are being used interchangeably here. i haven’t actually dug into if they are meaningfully different.)

so i grief and i mourn. i grieve the birthday parties that didn’t happen due to covid. i grieve the global travel i will probably never do out of climate guilt. i grieve the relationship with the floor of my house some of my nibblings will never have because by the time they’re old enough to come in my house, they won’t be crawling anymore.

and when i feel it rising, i try to stop and feel it. i play a sad song and let the tears flow.

and then, after it has passed, i look at what remains, see what can be salvaged (the 4 and 8 of cups have been on my mind the past few days), and be with it until i get clarity about what needs to be done.

at this point, i have grieved the dominant narrative america. in my mind, this experiment is failed. as far as i’m concerned, we’ve learned that this idea can’t exist given the way it started. i believe something like the vision of america is possible, but this pass was incomplete.

also this morning i read in brian stout’s latest newsletter, a phrase he wrote: “we want transformation, not revolution.” it resonated hard.

and, when i take a particular set of lenses to all the things i do, what i am doing is preparing for what’s next. whether it be civil war or political collapse or economic collapse or climate apocalypse or public health calamity/global virus or whatever, i don’t know what will hit most acutely but at some point, something will even more acutely than covid. and then another thing will. and another thing. and i am preparing, all along the way, to be with what needs will remain: our to raise our children (in the world they’re inheriting, not the one we inherited), our need for food and shelter, our need to navigate conflict and disagreement, our need to make collective decisions, our need to be in relationship with what’s bigger than we can see, our need to grieve and heal and transform and laugh. in some ways, everything i’m doing is preparing. but as the lauren olamina’s dad shared wisely in parable of the sower, you can’t panic people into change. shock and overwhelm aren’t good tactics (no matter how much we wish they were). so i keep grieving the losses and preparing, believing that the things i’m doing will be needed.

ok. that’s enough for now. gotta go read before the next turn of my sourdough comes up. welcome to 2022.


words / writing / post-processing
692w / 16min / 12min