We need to grieve. We also need to hope that our neighbours and our friends will assist us in honest recognition of where we are, our responsibility—that we may, as a community, be able to look one another in the eye and say, ‘Oh my God, I’m sorry for what we’ve done’ and have the person you’re looking at say: ‘Yes, and I am sorry.’
I think it’s time for us to get our souls in order. I can’t imagine trying to die with any degree of dignity without acknowledging what I’ve done. It’s truth and reconciliation of the self with the planet.
It’s love, in the end, that we learn, learning also it isn’t ours. Inexplicably, unsummoned, the world rises to fill its own emptiness. We feel it reaching through us—a voice, a hand, a greenness not our own— and are buoyed up momentarily, amazed, before we find our feet again, or drown.
The kind of hope that I’m interested in is a part of humility. It’s a part of saying ‘I do not know.’ I start this day with respect and acknowledgment of the past and look for a way forward.
The moment of recognition happens as if by magic; and yet, when we reflect on it, we see – its very name tells us this – that it is impossible without prior experience.