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Yesterday while riding bikes with my daughter, Julita, I watched the oil clean-up workers. I realized that these stressed workers covered with grimy, late afternoon sweats must have some very valuable perspectives. As I listened to several cough, I wondered about their health. I wondered also how their lives and their relationships with nature, people, and God were being affected by this catastrophe.
Today I tried several interviews. Here’s the first: Question: “What’s it like being a worker here?” Worker: “Work, work, work!” Question: “You, workers, understand things that the rest of us don’t about the spill, don’t you?” Worker: “Yes.” Question: “Like?” Worker: “I’m really sorry, I can’t talk about it, it’s against the rules.” Over and over again I heard the same response: “I’m not allow to talk with anyone.” In several places, security officials would not allow me to take photographs. Near the public beach, the school’s playground was no longer available for children to play. At the public beach, I met Mark from Chicago who reflected, “It’s about time that we start thinking of alternatives to gasoline engines. But of course that’s how I got here.” Like Mark I too was traveling by car. I spoke with the handful of families visiting the public beach. At one point, I asked a few adults what they thought of all this. No one knew what to say until a small child began running circles around me, crying out over and over again, “How are we going to save all the sea animals?” A voice from on High had spoken. At the public beach, others expressed shock that there’s another nearby drilling rig, the Ocean Saratoga, which has been leaking oil since at least April 30. Right now I want to forget all the “blame games” and all the “powers that be.” What about me? … us? What is the Spirit crying? What needs to happen with each of us? Where are our creative thoughts and actions? “How are we going to save all the sea animals?” Volunteer information and other important information can be found at Alabama Coastal Foundation. |
Category Archives: Nature
Beached Oil
The birds, crabs, and fish at Katrina Cut have little choice. Two birds huddling together stared at me with a look of deep uncertainty. Nearby dolphins fed on schools of mullet. The animals there were nesting, resting, and swimming with the oil … a paradise lost. Large horseshoe crabs once flourishing in these waters were washing ashore dead.
I’m upset because I’m losing this paradise. I feel cheated. But why am I upset? Why, when so many people around me live in daily fear, rejection, and denied opportunities. Perhaps the oil eruption will crash my attachments and illusions … prompt me to care more and fear less … to regain reality. The crucified live all around me. The oil eruption is toxic … symptomatic of all that I have neglected. It’s a rude awakening, but I needed a real kick in the pants.
We as a human family need healing just as our environment needs healing. But healing can only be found with the crucified … jobless … unnoticed … lost … hurting … imprisoned … mourning … all of us included and active.
Energetic cooperation between all of us is where we find the Spirit, our All in All, who boundlessly enlightens, empowers, and heals. Fears, illusions, and attachments can hold us back, but now is the time to share our lives, needs, and talents. Our promised future is passionately reaching out to us but it is unwritten.
Mia Rose singing Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield