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Writer's pictureCrone

Medicinal

This is the path to peace. How I get into the Poplar Copse.


This is the sound of peace. Birds and breezes.



Inhale the aromatics; exhale the tension. Inhale the green; exhale the oily darkness.


It's funny, the books about the climate crisis or biodiversity loss all have something in the blurb like, 'but this isn't a book of despair! X explains how humanity can...' And, you know, I don't want the fairy tales. I don't want the happy ending.


I went to Jeremy Lent's Deep Transformation Network online monthly meeting and all these people doing all these things with all these ideas hoping to change the world for the better... You know what I think? I think that until we (those of us not indigenous, not in desperate poverty) can admit that we are bloody idiots who DO NOT KNOW and can acknowledge that we are just one of millions of species, no more or less vital than anything else, we are fucked. Because we think, like helicopter parents, that we can control the future and that we know best. Every single idea is predicated on some human who knows best. Even the humans who tried to tell the other humans that we don't know best are cited as examples of knowing best.


Just shut up with your groups and blog posts and courses and all the ways you show that, really, you have some answers.


Schumacher and Kerulos do not merit this criticism... and maybe all the others don't. Maybe it's my bitterness. Maybe it's my anger. I am so angry.


I am angry at the self satisfaction, self congratulation and self aggrandizement that is inherent in so much of the thinking of our species. A species that by knowing so much has managed to lose its wisdom.


What is the medicine for this?



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