Skip to main content

The Beauty of Accident

I change screensavers on whim.
Right now it is a picture from National Geographic
of three Siberian Tigers: a mother and two half-grown cubs.
I fall in love with them every time I log on!

There is something wonderful
about a species that can love the survival
of another that probably would kill it
if ever they met, and both were hungry.

Nothing has shaped the course of evolution that we can see,
except chance and necessity.  Things just happen. 
Things just work.  So here we are:  workable!  We are here!
It is not to be debated.  Siberian Tigers are here, as are we.

Siberian Tibers are barely here. 
That might also be true for us, but we do have
the advantage of accidental brain changes
that make us really formidable contestants, except
of course, for members of the US Senate. 

Something has gone right, if we can love tigers,
who would eat us if they needed to, and us,
who would set our own ideals aside, if we needed to,
and eat tigers, if we had to.

There is no merit in recognizing that,
but there is a warm gladness in knowing that
we have wandered our ways here, and that,
in wandering, we have come to a beautiful place.

It is more beautiful, and more savage, than any
purposeful creator ever could have imagined.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them. ...

That's all we want: fairness! Not more guns and more war! Fairness!

The five police officers who were killed in Dallas are certainly not the officers who killed innocent citizens. There is more than enough tragedy to go around. "What is happening to our country?", Mari asked this morning. I had no answer.  We do have an answer.  We do not want to say it. There are lots of answers, all of them pertinent. We are a racist society, like most human societies. We are a society in the midst of enormous changes-- social, political, economic--and we do not know what to do about it. We are divided unsustainably into absurdly rich, and an enormous number of crumbling middle class families, and poor. We have guns everywhere; military guns, guns just for killing people, cheap guns, heroes carrying guns into churches and supermarkets, idiots who think guns ought to be allowed in bars and schools and ball games and beauty parlors and political rallies. Our political process is almost useless. There are good people in Congress, but there...