After many weeks of glorious sunshine during the lockdown, a period of grey skies and rain has set in. I don’t mind the rain, personally. Fewer people like to walk in the wet and so it’s easier to find space to be by oneself.
I love the way the rain feels. I love walking without my hood up and feeling it on my head and face. I feel alive this way. We’re too wrapped in comfort these days. Too disconnected from the earth and the elements.
Before I share a poem with you, I wanted to write a few lines to give a little context. Lately, (although it’s not really lately and more just a speeding up of a feeling I’ve been in for many years) the pull is becoming stronger and stronger within me to make bigger, braver changes to the way I live.
The poem below doesn’t constitute a big change by any stretch of the imagination, but it shares something about the way I feel about needing to make much bigger efforts to bring my daily actions into greater alignment with my beliefs about the world and the things I really care about.
I, like everyone making changes and trying to do better for the sake of our common home, am so unbelievably imperfect and there is much more that I don’t know than I do. My only intention, as always, is to continue following my heart, sharing the journey, and hoping that it is useful to others along the way.
I Was Shopping for Digestive Biscuits
I was shopping for digestive biscuits.
I had a fancy to make a pie.
But on every packet, where it said
“palm oil” in the list of ingredients,
they may as well have plastered
the face of an orangutan,
eyes drawn down in sad horror as
another piece of its home
was ripped without care of consequence
from the wailing earth.
When I returned home,
I looked up recipes for digestive biscuits
and found that they are very simple to make.
I made them.
They were delicious.
No blood of orangutan.
The supermarkets have given us convenience.
They cut out the need to labour over homemade biscuits
so we could spend longer at our desks,
oiling the machines of power and greed that turn the world.
Still, it will not be very convenient
when there is no world left to turn.
Then again, who am I kidding?
The world will turn.
But we will no longer turn in it or with it.
Love and courage,
P.S. Of course, then there is the butter to consider, the sugar, the oats. Where and how are all these produced? What is the impact? Is the pleasure of a digestive biscuit worth more than the pleasure of being alive on planet earth?