While Estelle and I were at the library last week, she scurried out of the children’s section and started pulling the grown-up books off the shelves; an impulse beyond her control. Estelle got into the self-help aisle and pulled out Self-help Nation: The Long Overdue, Entirely Justified, Delightfully Hostile Guide to Snake Oil Peddlers Who are Sapping our Nation’s Soul. “Heavy reading for a toddler!” an elderly man said, passing us in the aisle. Then, an Anne Lindbergh’s book fell open in my hands, and her writing reminded me of this place, surrounded by all of you:
How wonderful islands are! Islands in space, like this one I have come to, ringed about by miles of water…The past and the future are cut off; only the present remains. Existence in the present gives island living an extreme vividness and purity. One lives like a child in the immediacy of here and now. People too become like islands in such an atmosphere: self-contained, respecting other people’s solitude, not intruding on their shores, standing back in reverence before the miracle of another individual.
A couple of weeks ago there was the 10K run along Yonge Street. I didn’t know about the run and I got caught up in a mess of traffic downtown that I finally had to turn around and not arrive at First, for the service. In the car, Chloe, my daughter who is seven, had tears streaming down her cheeks; she was angry. “Who made the decision to let these people exercise in the street?” she asked. “Was it the mayor? The mayor who was caught cigaretting, eating drugs and drinking beer?!”
I tried to pull out a silver-lining to turn the morning around. I realized the anxiety and disappointment Chloe was feeling matched my own. The hour of solitude I enjoy here has become something I rely on. This is especially true, on a day we are celebrating this one and only place of ours: The Earth. The changes that will be required of us, to continue to enjoy the varied experiences of nature, species and forest, that we may hope to pass on to other generations, means changes in the way we have traditionally thought about consumption and energy. It is hard to calm that pull within me that wonders to what length we have a responsibility toward nurturing the scars of the Earth. Writer Paul Taylor asks whether environmental ethics could ever override the fulfilment of human ends, as we drive many forms of life to extinction.
Standing up here is something many people take turns doing. Public speaking has been described by Mari Ruti as a moment where our Singularity of Being can be expressed; where our body may derails us; we may start blushing, stammering and losing our thread of thought. Public speaking can become a moment when our otherwise well-controlled, organized self, intrudes on an inner-self that has bottled up feelings ready to burst through. So, although my arms are not flailing about, my singularity of being is impatient to make itself known up here. There are so many life-enriching reasons to jump head first into supporting any Earth day movement that interests you. Communities will dissolve the distance of their closeness by working together on projects that are healing, not stripping the Earth. I hope to work with many of you, towards that goal.