To die in the woods

It is only by our vast numbers and capacity to create that we are so apt at destroying. Virtually all of our creation is simultaneously destruction; of the environment, old ideas, etc. We create by destroying natural resources and converting them into forms beneficial to us. Even our artistic creation is destruction. In the hopes of creating a new thought, insight, feeling, inspiration...we tear down those that came before, take their place, refute them, push them into obscurity or antiquity.

It is inconceivable the constant flux of birth and death that we live within. It exists alongside us, at all times, underfoot, in the trees, in the air, within our bodies. Forces of life and deconstruction grapple perpetually in what is truly an impossible balance. This is what I imagine is meant by many classic dichotomies: Yin and Yang, good and evil, black and white, life and death. Without one there can be no other, they must exist in equal proportions in the universe.

But in terms of the battle we as humans seem to have chosen to wage upon much of the life in our world, I must admit that I'm pushing for the planet. Looking out the window, it's easy to see the immensely powerful resiliency of life. All things green push constantly from the ground and claw at the sun as we do our best to hack it back down flat, to tame it, to domesticate it. But all day and all night, with an imperceptible but certain strength, while we sleep, it continues to assert its existence, its dominance.

If we were to abandon our cities and towns, to allow the natural balance of the planet to equalize, it would be only a matter of a few years before all of our centuries of labor at building up artifacts of our existence would be taken back to the earth. It is only through our constant vigilance at maintaining our current dominion over the earth that we stand a chance. But the ultimate victor, of course, will be the earth from which we came. And I love that.

There are innumerable things that I love and value about humanity, our creations, our triumphs, our imperfections. But I take a specific comfort in knowing that, one day, it will be earth and sky and ocean again, dutifully standing guard over the earth, as the earth. Not working toward any goal, trying to fix anything. Simply being. A world where all there is to do is exist.

I hope that when I die, it is by the earth's hand. When the earth takes life, it does so with a very certain power. But I don't think it is to be feared. If I die in an avalanche, a flood, an earthquake, or from exposure, dehydration, starvation, hypothermia, or get eaten by a jaguar or bitten by a snake, or fall off a cliff or get crushed by falling boulders....there won't be any hard feelings. I'll just have been a piece of the earth that returned, present as it continued its job of being. And eventually there will be nothing left of me, and I think the earth will be glad to have me back.