Weaving 1

Like a collage

To be alive. The electricity running through my body creating some kind of awareness that I could cease to exist at any moment.

Surrounded by thriving plants and animals. Other people living their own lives, as real to them as mine is to me. Scraps of food that rot in the sink, returning to dust. Food digesting inside me.

I’m pretty sure that living things need attunement and love to thrive. Not much more. Surround them with caretakers who listen and tend to them in the unique way that they need, and they will learn how to care for themselves and create positive change.

I think a lot about how many people in my life have ancestors who knew my ancestors. Back in Poland or in New York, or centuries further back. Could my ancestors have known your ancestors? What’s the likelihood of that? Probably higher than we think.

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