Simple Hearts

Planet in distress. Not for the faint of heart. Apply anywhere.

Humanity is spilling over the edge, a driven herd of lemmings.

Oh, humanity, what a strange drama we are creating together. So many enraged thoughts and violent actions, so much torturous agony, destruction and neglect.

Why in the world do we want to be experiencing this? Is there some force at work here that is darkening our very souls? Or are we allowing the lost soul-connection of a few to dictate the misery of the many? Are those of us who want a harmonious and safe world for our future generations outnumbered by those who seek revenge and the sole control of what belongs to everyone? Or are there more of us striving for life than we have been led to believe? Are we helpless against those who wantonly wield their weapons of chaotic greed and power, or do our simple hearts and searching minds and light-filled souls have the power to co-create a more life-enhancing story for ourselves and those in our stewardship?

I am reminded by recent world events of what has happened to my circle of trees, which I planted in the field below my house, around a fifty-foot-diameter circumference. For seven years these sixteen tender spruces and firs have withstood storms and droughts, have sprouted bright green shoots every spring, have grown from half my height to twice my height. Last spring, two of the trees, I noticed, were decorated with a plethora of cocoons. In my naivete, I expected butterflies. It became evident this spring that butterflies were not forthcoming. It became evident that these caterpillars, who form their cocoons from confiscated pine needles and stay inside them indefinitely, were devouring my trees.

I was called away to attend to other matters, and by the time I returned, the two trees were stripped and browned beyond rescue, by what are called bagworms. I decided that to prevent the spread of bagworms, I had to cut the trees down, even though there were still a few living branches at the bottom. When I did, some of the bagworms were scattered into the grassy circle. During the night they crawled, dragging their cocoons behind them, into some of the healthy trees, into about half of the fourteen remaining.

There seems to be a metaphorical correspondence between my circle of trees and the family of man.

My naivete in expecting butterflies is not dissimilar to a society buying into the promise of unlimited material prosperity even while other societies are suffering. My awakening to the reality of a siege is not unlike humanity discovering its world threatened by the consumption of fossil fuels and other resources, and everything that such entails, from pollution to global warming to species extinction to insidious wars. My being called away to attend to other matters can be likened to the absence of the Goddess, the feminine principle, the essential other half of the parenting of humanity, whose return is belated but critical.

As I chopped down the trees, however, I found myself feeling very masculine. I set my teeth and did what I had to do, wiped out not only the invaders but the remaining innocent branches as well in an attempt to stem the spread of those unconsciously ravenous and destructive little villains. I understood as I did so that there are men who have simple hearts and searching minds and light-filled souls even among generals and administrators of corporations, and I understood that those who have cocooned themselves indefinitely inside of what they have stolen from others, with no apparent intention of becoming butterflies, show up everywhere, in every society, and something has to be done about that.

I have begun an attentive watch. I scan the trees daily. I considered a conventional treatment, but the remedy smelled so poisonous it would have belied my intentions of guarding the health of the circle. Plucking the few bagworms that have persisted has become an easy management. Fourteen trees of sixteen, seven-eighths of the original circle, are doing splendidly. I mourn the loss of the two, I regret that I was too naive to save them, but I am dedicated to protecting the rest of the circle. I might not have noticed a bagworm attack elsewhere, but I noticed it here, finally, because I intended this circle of trees, I created it, I treasure it, and I envision it growing into its own future.

I am reminded, too, of the holocaust. It took the loss of too many lives to awaken us to the need of becoming allies against unconscious and unconscionable behavior. In joining forces, and unfortunately, by destroying even more lives, ultimately we saved so many more lives than were lost. But we need to ask ourselves how many more times we can afford to remain inattentive to what is devouring the life of our planet. It’s time to acknowledge that we are the responsible members of this family of man, that we can create, and are being assisted to create, an intended work of living art and harmony, connected in spirit and within sight and sound of one another, watching ourselves as we grow into a formidably beautiful ring of splendid beings. I picture my trees, growing on beyond my own lifetime, into a magnificent circle of tall, diverse expressions of growth, of life. I might even see them into the time of their branches touching. Is it possible that I will also see humanity in its time of cultural hands and hearts touching across oceans? Can we reach a stage of easy management within a generation or two? Didn’t Apartheid result in an African president within a couple of generations? Didn’t the hot war with Japan and Germany and the cold war with Russia turn into cooperation within a couple of generations? Aren’t the Native Americans finally being recognized for their wisdom? Isn’t the championship of human dignity incredibly effective?

Our present situation seems hopeless. How, in the middle of this treacherous devastation of so much, can we save what is left? How much is left? How can we possibly know how much is left to save, when we are listening, not to one another, but to the information being broadcast by the bagworms themselves, or by those too naive to comprehend that the strategy of unconsciously driven consumption is to justify itself and to presume its misnamed “victory” before it is accomplished?

If we begin to listen to one another, we will discover that there are many more of us than of the disconnected, though they would misguidedly have us believe otherwise. There are many more of us who want to co-inhabit a world of mutually respected peace and shared generosity than there are those who seek only to consume and destroy relentlessly. It is a tactic, these illusions of global depravity, created to demoralize us into surrender. We have been watching in horror, but now that we see what is happening, we are reassessing who we are and what we can do. And we are doing something. We are undertaking the cleansing of what we have allowed to befall us by being inattentive to the Eden over which we are co-sovereign. We have watched ourselves being taken over by greedy consumption for what seems like eons, but in fact, it is recent, this takeover of disconnection, and brief in the span of our long story, and its time has come to an end. From now on, we shall protect, with our sense of connection, this garden of Eden, the memory of whose original beauty is stored in the myths of every culture, and we shall help it grow into its full potential.

Well, okay, we’re not there yet. We’re still chopping down the trees and burning the invaders, even as they fight amongst themselves. They are in almost every country, but mostly they are in only a few, and their numbers, while apparently many, are within our power to curtail.

Stay healthy and sane and remember who we are. That’s all we have to do. Each of us, no matter what country we live in, can find our own way to do that. We can look into our simple hearts for how to express our love and our humanness. We can communicate our numbers to one another with our searching minds, with direct eye contact, with knowing smiles, with combined efforts to cultivate our generosity and to express our gratitude. We can remember with our light-filled souls that we comprise one Creation, the parts of the Whole all interdependent and interconnected.

Don’t succumb to disconnection! Don’t give in. Don’t give up. Do know that some will be lost, and yet only in body, not in spirit, for in spirit we are eternal, and as we remember that, we will no longer experience the fear and rage of disconnection, but will generate our best, our sense of connection, into our world. We are capable of recreating the family of man that we long to experience. The agony of so little family feeling is an illusion! A hundred and forty years ago, people on the west coast of this continent hearing that thousands had died on the east coast, in a Civil War battle, would have been, even if saddened, feeling remote, and perhaps even glad for the distance. Now not only the entire population of this continent, but of others as well, is profoundly affected, moved to react with concern and outrage and compassion at such news. There is so much more family feeling, so much more genuine caring, than we have been directed to notice. It is right here in front of us. Look for it! Beam it out! Take it in! See the drive to survive, to thrive, in that person behind the counter, that mail carrier, that woman who fixes your plumbing, that researcher developing a cure, that artist adding color to your life, that musician belting out his message, that hospital volunteer, that digger of ditches. Know that people in other countries doing similar things are as eager to provide for their children as you are.

I am fortunate to be part of the smaller half of humanity who lives closer to the earth than to concrete buildings and subways. Still, is the population shift to cities an irreversible disconnection from the nature of this planet? Can’t city people enjoy houseplants and fountains and soft music? Can’t they open up their hearts to one another? What, among all those frantic hard-hit cases? All the more reason. Counteract and soften the energy. Start looking at one another. Start doing nice things for each other. Start acting like human beings! We are capable of miracles! We have maintained beauty in so many ways, we have grown to immense variety in our expressions, our range of voices is thunderous! We will be heard! We will respond. We will be responsible. We will not let resounding messages of doom drown out the sweet whispers from inside: hope, learn, unlearn, get it, keep it, exercise it, exchange it, love it. This is our world, and we are its stewards.

And listen to those sweet whispers from outside, too – we are not alone. Those who love us from other dimensions, those extensions of ourselves (for we are continuous with all dimensions of beings all the way into infinity and eternity), those frequencies of ourselves beyond the physical are infusing us with light, metaphysical sunlight, water, fresh air, rich soil, the origin and the future of our species, our kind, our family in the flesh and beyond. Is this not what we came here to experience? Are we not together in this vision? Dare to envision, dare to look, and dare to be seen. Do we not want to be seen? Not through filters, not through a glass darkly, but with clarity, into where we harbor our own special greatness. Do we not want to see that in others? To look through their masks? To soften their need for shields? We can know, instantly, who will not be a pointless risk, who will look back and flash a question, an answer, a smile, a knowing. Simply looking will reveal the numbers of simple hearts, searching minds, and light-filled souls. We can know in a glance who understands or is open to the higher potency behind the illusion. The potential of our mastery is almost limitless. The numbers of potential masters is almost limitless.

But that is yet to be discovered and explored. For now we’re just watching over ourselves, protecting ourselves, rearranging our connections, communicating with one another about how we can participate in maintaining this planet that we love.

We are not alone. Whatever gods and angels are coming to our aid are being assisted in the flesh by the star children, the children of Oz, the indigo children, the crystal children – news of these super-psychic soul-connected human beings is rising through the airwaves. They have faith in our future because they remember where we came from. Humanity has always kept alive the memory of a golden age, a dreamtime, an Eden. We have the advantage of technology now, so we can transform sunlight into electrical power, we can eliminate the noise and pollution of means of travel, we can prevent waste and end starvation and stop extinction in its tracks. Disease will eliminate itself once we re-empower ourselves with our full life force. Members of the next generation are coming in already empowered. There will come a time when no one will be subject to the violation of the truth of connection. It is up to us, but we are not alone, and our future is already being assured — by each one of us who performs random acts of kindness, who has random moments of gratitude and appreciation, who loves what she is doing, and does what he loves to do. Our love of life ensures its quality. Our attention to detail connects us to everything. Our candles lit and songs sung and prayers said and cakes baked and races run connect us to our future. Those we assist to die in dignity connect us to all time, as do those we welcome at birth. Let us welcome our children into the world of our intended co-creation. We are a circle, a global family, learning what it takes to preserve what we have, and discovering that we have so much more than we thought we did: we have billions, yes, surprise, billions! of simple hearts and searching minds and light-filled souls. What a force to be reckoned with!

Traveler On The Path