In Whose Image?

There’s no denying autumn here, many leaves have already fallen and many others are turning. This is happening earlier every year.

Of course, that’s our fault. September has become an extension of summer. 

Here, the trees roots are in the Earth. Dozens of species of plants and animals with mutually beneficial, endlessly overlapping, symbiotic relationships thrive here, mostly undisturbed. 

Of course, we don’t see most of that. If something can’t be explained in anthropomorphic terms, it’s invisible, or if we do see it, we decide it’s not important. We are not rooted in Mother Earth. We walk on the Earth like we’re walking down a fashion runway, or like little kings and queens greeting their subjects, expecting to be served. 

We think that we are so far above the life in places like this. Created in God’s image? Really? We are blasphemous, disgusting warts, a pox on this planet. 

Nothing that treats the earth the way we do and uses our intelligence as poorly as we do can claim any connection with any life-giving force.

Humans are created in gods image? Not likely. More like we’ve created him in our own image, and then placed the force of creation in a little shoebox trying to define it in terms we are comfortable with, terms that reflect us. 

Until you can sit in a place like this, drop your preconceived notions and see what creation really is, and really does will you ever know anything about creation or life or holiness for that matter. 

No. I’m no brilliant one, no guru. I’m just a girl who sits in the woods. You should try it sometime. 

*Written at Purgatory Chasm State Park, Sutton MA