June 16, 2023—
We watched “Biggest Little Farm” last night at Heather’s house. Her Labrador, a furry yellow muscle, snoozed against me like the dogs in the documentary. It’s great—a couple farms 200 acres north of LA “traditionally,” tending it, but trusting nature do its thing (in the face of snails, coyotes, algae, without rushing to chemical pesticide, fertilizer, shotguns).
Rachel, my wife, stayed home to study for her EMT certification, so we talked about it over mugs of Tim Horton’s this morning.
She had just heard a veteran EMT on a podcast say, you may respond to an acute response brought on by a chronic condition, exacerbated by like 30 years of habits, but you can’t fix 30 years of habits during one emergency. It should start the process, though.
So, like, putting out wildfires verses a “global practice” of fighting climate change. The disharmony of trying to work together, the failures, and it all taking time, change, restraint, consideration.
“That’s why it has to be thoughtful and systemic,” Rachel said, regarding respiratory emergencies.
I got a small, sharp picture of it Thursday. I’d spent too much time on a submission for a long-shot publication, and I knew it. But it was okay to stretch, and to get the rejection email. And the extra investment and disappointment was also natural—disharmony. Back to it.
Not to compare my endeavors with climate change, but everything’s a picture of Everything.
Mandy Brown, a leadership coach and strategist, has kept a blog for 15 years. I also happened to come across it yesterday.
“Each new post lays atop the next like sediment, and all the old layers remain exposed for you to meander through, with their mediocre sentences and lapsed claims, all the sloppy thinking ever on display,” She writes. “But in exchange for the keen awareness of how far I still have to go as a writer, I have the space to keep going. I have the home to keep coming back to. And I will. I will return, again and again.”
Photo: Biggest Little Farm, Neon