Reply #5: Living separately from nature. Apart.

[Gregorian]

I want to say that I understand. And I am thankful that I am not alone in that understanding. For so many years I only knew of one or two who did, and it was hell. You might not laugh at this, but my lifelong friend made up a business card. Of course it was in jest, but there was a serious truth to it. His occupation stated "Hunter gatherer". He continues to be one of the most insightful people I've ever known.

We are of the same flesh. Even though we act like we are of different species called "races", there is actually no difference between us, physically. And this truth is a kind of equilibrium. The truth that brought the children to the doorstep. We can only depart from the reality of nature so far, and then sickness and discomfort bear on us as a restoring force.

I love riding my bicycle through forests. It's what I live for. It's not a substitute for a healthy society. But it is the best I know. Yesterday I had a meeting with several people. A friend from college, and someone who I met on an internet bike forum. It was a great event. 25 miles of beauty in redwood forests. Most of the day we exerted our bodies in a pretty dramatic way, up steep mountain trails.

Then last night I was invited to meet the parents of one of my riding friends. I'm not sure I can describe this the way I experienced it. But it is a response to your post in the way of an example. This is Mendocino. Cliffs with crashing surf. This was once a place of great peace. The western coast of this continent. Where the sun set. The parents live in what is now a subdivision. Not a typical one. Houses of 20,000 square feet. Architectural masterpieces. Or monsters. Depending upon who is viewing. As I entered the area, what was rolling pastures is now the equivalent of urban sprawl, but with some distance between the houses. Maybe each place has two or three acres. When you talk about sickness, that is the feeling I feel when I see things like this. I am disgusted. Their house is multiple levels on the side of a small cliff. White rugs, frilly veiled curtains. Antique furniture. Massive windows that expose a 180 degree view of the coast line. They watch the sun set on the horizon every day of the year. And I'm disgusted. Not by wealth. But by the thought that no longer will a native family sit on that hill and watch, in peace. Because what I see is not part of nature. What I see is selfish. Not in wealth, but in the beauty they have stolen from everyone who looks upon it. Here I sit in a million dollar home, with the feeling of poverty.



I suppose everyone saw this when I posted it. Even if the sound is badly done, I cannot stop enjoying this video, for it is an expression of the sickness. And that may be the beginning of recovery. I can only hope. And I too feel the pain the native Americans feel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pf40JOx2dWw