Life is inherently out of hand; death, illness, pain, loss, grief, war, disasters natural and man-made, trauma, heartbreak, abuse, cruelty, racism, sexism homophobia and heteronormativity, oppression and injustice in all its forms, including the depletion, exploitation, and hoarding of the earth’s resources. In the face of all that life can throw at you there are times when blatant mental imbalance is the sanest, healthiest most healing response.
We are all embedded in enormous systems, familial, social and planetary, which are also cycling, swinging wildly, falling in and out and passing through imbalance, equilibrium and back again. Living and breathing balance requires and contains imbalance within it.
We will all lose our footing.
No one is impervious. We will all drop the ball.
-- Martha Crawford, What a Shrink ThinksAs I mentioned yesterday, lately I've been a little bit in love with the human race. Illogically and insanely in love. Not in spite of our flaws, but because of them.
I see us moving around in these bodies that are built for survival, with all our fight, flight, and freeze impulses always online -- a design at once elegant and clumsy. I acknowledge the limits of our perception and awareness, how little we can know, restricted as we are by our limited senses and by the vantage point of our tiny speck of a planet and our tiny sliver in time.
And yet I notice that most of us manage to get out of bed each morning and stumble, half blind through one day, and then the next, never knowing what the future holds. We laugh. We love. We hurt. We heal. We try to make sense of it all. Some even strive, against all odds, to "make the world a better place."
We screw up. We drop the ball. Again, and again, and again.
And for some reason, when I think of this, my heart fills, not with disdain, but with tender affection for us all.
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