Finding Meaning in the Madness

This past Thursday, we visited Holden Arboretum for the first time. It was a hiking trip planned around our 11th anniversary.

Some of the main attractions (a short canopy walk and lookout tower) were closed this late in the season, but that just meant we got to explore off the beaten path. This is old forest. We were dwarfed by trees hundreds of years old (you can barely see me hugging this giant Red Oak!) and I was in awe of their beauty and resilience. I think about the resilience of trees a lot.

On our way back the visitor center, we stopped to check out this huge section of a Sequoia. It’s 6 feet in diameter and was approximately 882 years old when it was cut down in 1978. It was born in 1096, and lived through the Great Crusades, the birth of the United Stares, the Civil War, the two World Wars, and the first man on the moon. During that time it was no doubt home to thousands of generations of insects, birds and squirrels, was climbed by bears, provided shade to weary humans, and fed the forest around it.

These trees have a lifespan of about 2000 years…can you imagine? Their wisdom dwarfs us just as much as their size. Then someone came along and looked at this majestic being and thought, “This is mine to kill.” Why? I was heartbroken to read about it on the plaque. Humans can be so disappointing, can’t we?

But I’m comforted to live in a world where these giants still reign. I’m comforted to know that a kind of intelligence exists that innately understands generosity and reciprocity. No matter the damage we do, the Earth that produces these magical sentinels will remain…and she’ll start again and again even if we’re not here to see it.

So much is “happening.” The news is moving a mile per millisecond, but is anything really changing? Until we learn to disengage from the machine, I’m convinced it won’t. After all, our engagement is what’s fueling it.

So I turn my focus toward the good I can do and the difference I can make.

I donated funds directly to a family in need during the SNAP disruption. Jon and I are making some meals for a vegan mom and her disabled child for Thanksgiving. We became members of the Arboretum the day we visited, and also donated to the Center for Biological Diversity. I made cookies for a neighbor who’s having a hard time.

Like dandelions, we must develop deep roots and continue to turn our faces toward the light.

One thing we can all participate in is the planned Economic Blackout from Thanksgiving through that following week. We can refuse to spend one more holiday patronizing these big box stores and huge restaurant chains that couldn’t care less about anything but their own bottom line - and instead shop small and local. We can focus on heartfelt gifts and meaningful interactions. We can stand up for, and help, those in need. We can protect the environment and speak on behalf of the voiceless. We are the badass bringers of tidings of comfort and joy if we only choose it.

These past few weeks, I’ve rebranded to focus on health, meaning and purpose, and that’s bringing me so much happiness. Someone who looked through my Apothecary and General Store said “You put so much love into every detail!,” and that was the best compliment I could’ve received. That’s exactly what I do as I’m creating my teas, salves, sprays, my Planner and all my other carefully crafted offerings. And it fills me with joy to think of how they might bring joy to others.

I was also a guest on A Good Podcast recently, and we talked about food, philosophy and community. It was so fun and life-affirming. It brought me back to how much we all need community. Especially now.

As we head into this season, I’m determined not to get caught up in consumerism but to be intentional. To prize meaning over the madness. To let the spirit of that wise, old, beautiful Sequoia be my guide.

I hope you’ll join me in this cultivation of joy and life. Let’s be the change we all desperately want to see…for the world, and for one another.💚