AH, THE LOAFSTER

What a beautiful day, leaves falling from the liquid amber tree. Raking them into a pile, one forgets everything except raking. It is doing nothing.

A single leaf clings to my rake. Why won't it let go? It disappears into the pile.

Then, where? Not gone but blended. The question sticks.

A slow seepage of the day filters down, taking unfinished business with it. In descent it lilts and flutters like a baby leaf returning home. It might find denizens of the deep there, giving birth to orphans. Unexamined thoughts that influence actions from behind the scenes, causing inexplicable grief.

Or perhaps it falls near a mind that is awake. Where it is recorded through the lens of attention. Suppose a sunny day.

Hold the lens steady and focus on the still point until the question of the leaf ignites and is consumed. Thus the remains of the day are dispatched. Upon entering sleep there are no remnants left, no orphans to mingle and create orphans in the Sargasso sea.

There is a version of events, easily ignored, that unsettles tall buildings and legislators. Detection is difficult when it's plain work, such as pulling weeds or raking leaves, which seem like doing something.

Simple work is often associated with low wages. Indeed, how much thought could be involved? Often it is called mindless. Whereas thought is called a cause for strife. Compare these with the value of loafing.

Some people prefer doing simple work, allowing the mind to loaf. There is no freeing the mind, no equivalent wage, no nothing. Where there is no thought, strife has no foot hold.

Justice takes many forms, some of which can't be bought and are undetectable.

This time around, earth has the upper hand. She always does, but now self-styled rulers and leaders are beginning to understand:Without her we cannot be born. Our brilliant intellect may penetrate her depths, bringing forth from ancient depths her store of rich, black milk, thus to fuel our dreams of mastery.

We are boisterous children who haven't paid her much attention. She doesn't think like us, while we've been so busy spending her gifts. Too busy to listen, see, smell, or feel her so near. She is neither strict nor lenient in how she raises us. Neither punitive nor forgiving. We learn from our own experience, providing our own lessons.

As brilliant as some of us are, we comprehend no more than the broad outline, the main points. These are slowly forming in the collective consciousness.. We have decimated forests and their communities, over burdened natural sources of food by reproducing too many of ourselves, leaving our wastes to pollute what remains, poisoning the air, altering the climate in a catastrophe suffered by all.

It cannot be said that this angers the earth. It cannot be said that the earth has no response. The response is just now beginning to be felt. It is empathy. The pain we feel in the suffering of others who have lost loved ones, family and friends, the unfillable hole of grief . . . it's as though the whole earth is grieving. It's a hard lesson, now coming down near some minds that are awake.



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