In owning and honoring our pain for the world, and daring to experience it, we learn the true meaning of compassion: to “suffer with”. We begin to know the immensity of our heart-mind. What had isolated us in private anguish now opens outward and delivers us into the wider reaches of our inter-existence.
A meditation on the smoke from the catastrophic Australian bush fires, December 2019.
Eve Ensler apologizes to our Mother, the Earth, in this moving piece originally published at brainpickings.
This commentary is the first of a series in TruthOut: “How, Then, Shall We Live?: Finding Our Way Amidst Global Collapse.” It is about the moonlight leaking between the roof planks of this ruined house.
A response to Jem Bendell's “Deep Adaptation: A Map for Navigating Climate Tragedy.”
A report on an Open Sentence practice that explores one's responses to impending collapse
"Our sacred Mother Earth is raising a fever to burn out dis-ease, overgrowth, competition, and the deadly belief that humanity exists outside the natural world, that we are separate."
An in-depth exploration of the historical shift from symbiotic economies to extractive economies at the dawn of the Neolithic era.
One of a series of prayer mandalas with themes sourced in the Work That Reconnects.
Sharing a thread of emails among the editorial team of Deep Times regarding our "nuclear legacies."
A reflection on the need to honor our collective wounds in order to heal them.
In the age of Trumpism, a time when lies are celebrated, nature is commodified, relationships are monetized and the sacred is mocked, it is very important to know ‘where you stand’ in the midst of this maelstrom.
Reflections on patriarchal capitalism, its greed and destructive effects throughout Europe, and how ancient Goddesses can inspire movement beyond it.
trans. by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy
Our modern culture does not teach us how to deal with pain. Instead, it teaches us to be cheerful, uncomplaining, and optimistic all the time. At first, I did the same thing with the pain around the Fukushima Daiichi disaster. This time, however, something happened that changed me completely. What you are reading here is the story of that change, a story from my heart.
Welcome to Rocky Flats, a picturesque expanse of open range with a stunning mountain view of Colorado’s Front Range, located just sixteen miles northwest of downtown Denver. This beautiful and blustery spot has a dark and dangerous past that has forever marred it. The 5,800-acre Rocky Flats area and 20,000 adjacent acres are contaminated with one of the most deadly materials humans have ever created — radioactive plutonium-239.
A response to the question: in light of the alienating behaviors advocated by the industrial system and the psycho-emotional responses that reinforce our anthropocentric confusion, where can we find the energy to free ourselves and connect with genuine alternative sources of planetary wealth and well being?
Let’s all take a breath together. Take a moment from the perpetual scroll of overwhelm and breathe… I had become silenced by overwhelm, and I just tapped into the truth of it this early morning.
Where was our world? We wept. I had gone looking for Dad’s old office and found out that I was long dead.
I have been researching and writing about anthropogenic climate disruption for the past year, because I have long been deeply troubled by how fast the planet has been emitting its obvious distress signals.