Thoughts On An Uncertain World
On our tellyboxes, our official leaders display their lack of ability and compassion, and the bravado and exaggerated sense of self-worth that got them where they are is laid threadbare for all to see. They flap about like ragged, worn-out flags atop rusty flagpoles, and their words are just the sounds of slobbering lips smacking together, like fetid slabs of liver. Out of their depth they stumble, stuttering awkwardly, nervously hoping that nobody realises they weren’t ready for this, that they don’t have the competence or the ability to deal with this, and that their misdirection, their fraud, and their over-inflated sense of self worth is no longer hiding the truth of this.
But while their mouths move, and they try to reassure us that they know what they’re doing, less than convinced we find our attention drawn to something outside the window. The trees, we notice, are moving gently in their breeze, casting shadows in the fading evening sunlight that dapple and ripple and dance inside our rooms.
They call to us, sing to us, tell us – look here, everything will carry on. What will come will come, what will go will go. Find comfort it that, because that’s how it is.
Wash your hands if you must, fulfil your roles and your obligations in your world if you must, do all the things you should do to be safe, to feel safe, to reassure your nervous heart. There might be difficult times ahead, you might feel pain and heartbreak and uncertainty and fear. But here, the wind will blow, as it always has done. Tomorrow the sun will rise, as it always has done. The birds will sing, the rivers will flow, and the seasons will come and go, taking with them our brown leaves and replacing them with new green ones, as they always have done.
Tomorrow the trees will still send their shadows to dapple and ripple and dance inside our rooms.
This is a moment, when all the artifices of the surface world shudder and shake, and through their cracks we return to the songs of our forebears, the natural rhythms that guided us yesterday, and which will always be there when we need them. Close your eyes and your ears to the cacophonous fake news of your world, and you will hear the truth of ours. And if you really listen, you will know that it is your truth, too.
The world lives inside you, and it can be anything you want it to be, all that is asked of you is that you choose.
It can be a world of fear, of uncertainty, of nightmares, of collapsing markets, of conspiracy theories, of worst-case scenarios. Or it can be a world of love. A world of connection. A place to pause and stay for a while, unadorned with the follies of the past or the fears for the future. Just a moment, right here, right now.
A place where the trees dance outside your window. A place where you can feel who you really are. A place where you can forget who the world wants you to be. A place where the quiet reveals its gentle music and invites you to dance. An eternal place called home.