Soul and soil are not separate. Neither are wind and spirit, nor water and tears. We are eroding and evolving, at once, like the red rock landscape before me. Our grief is our love. Our love will be our undoing as we quietly disengage from the collective madness of the patriarchal mind that says aggression is the way forward.

There are so many other more immediate feelings. There’s anger. There’s fear, dread, and overwhelm. There’s deep, deep sorrow. In speaking the grief you realize that it’s not the kind of grief or rage or fear that can be equated with what you encounter in your own life or even in your family. It’s categorically different from “the slings and arrows

Our personal experiences of loss and suffering are now bound inextricably with dying coral reefs, melting polar caps, the silencing of languages,