Perhaps the most difficult thing to reconcile when confronting illness, especially cancer, is the possibility that we have misunderstood not only disease, but ourselves. We have inherited countless ideas about what the body is, what it is capable of, what threatens it, and where its authority ultimately resides. Yet beneath those accumulated narratives is something quieter and considerably older: an intelligence that has accompanied us from the beginning, asking very little except that we stop long enough to remember it.
Category: Journal Entries
thoughts, ponderings, experiences and lessons learned. or, something deep and life-changing.
There comes a point when trying to reach more people begins to interfere with reaching the right people. What we create, discover, and offer in earnest does not need to resonate with everyone, nor should we expect it to. There is a certain freedom in recognizing that our task may simply be to put forth what feels true and worthwhile, as clearly and authentically as we can, and allow those who are ready for it to find their way there.
We were promised that technology would return something to us. Time, freedom, ease, perhaps even a greater capacity to live. Yet somewhere between the promise and the implementation, the tools became obligations, convenience became compliance, and the hours they were meant to save disappeared into the machinery required to keep them functioning.
Living Systems, Extractive Systems: Beyond the Next Promise
On Progress and the Human Condition
There comes a point, after enough observation and enough inward wrestling, when the appetite for grand explanations begins to soften. Not because the questions no longer matter, but because life has a way of revealing that many of our most pressing troubles do not yield to scale, speed, or certainty. They ask something quieter of us. They ask us to look more closely at the conditions we are creating, the assumptions we’ve inherited, and the kinds of systems — inwardly and outwardly — to which we’ve given our allegiance.
Every era tells itself a story about progress. We inherit those stories long before we possess the discernment to question them, and, more often than not, spend much of our lives defending assumptions we never consciously chose. But every so often, something begins to unravel. A contradiction becomes too obvious to ignore, and the narratives that once seemed self-evident begin to reveal themselves as carefully maintained illusions.