There is only the illusion of control - as if I could protect myself through knowing I've organized, planned, figured it all out down to the last box of provisions or gallon of paint - but underneath all this false preparation are constant unknowns. What-ifs. But-hows. Then-whats. Security and stability are not safe words to utter in this new reality; I think we are all learning this while living through the ambiguity of a never-ending pandemic. Social and ecological climates come to a head and now truly highlight existential risk, so now we scramble. I am sensitive to this collective consciousness - now ridden with anxiety and despair - as there are no specifics, no ground to stand on, no one to go to for answers, no trustworthy source of information. There is no other way for me to handle the intensity than with presence, trust, and simply learning to be still and feel the feels. Turning inward for solutions. I think this might be the most useful list of "skills", above all other types of illusory physical preparations for the unknown and inevitable.
I am content, find happiness and joy in most moments, and I feel loved... but I also feel powerless as I witness the world crumble and our freedoms fray, as if I were bound in chains and my chest couldn't expand fully to take a deep breath. Ultimately, I am indeed bound; bound in this 5'something box of a human that is limited and vulnerable and so very much dependent on everyone around me to live this good life I am living. I am living a good life, such a good life it seems fraudulent and frail. I watch the life I am living slowly filter through the shredder, from an out-of-body perspective, and my heart - the only thing keeping me tied to the living earth - is beating faster and faster as this machine's teeth approach my feet.
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