July 13 Daily Entry -- Desert

We have built ourselves an inhospitable desert. Cliff and canyons where nothing grows, and people carry on without nourishment. No wonder the people grow irritable and frustrated.

But just as people built the canyons, people built oases. The canyons are for achievement and struggle. The oases are for healing. There is no strength, no resilience, without healing.

Yesterday I left the bay behind and today I am once again at my park in the city. Again I close my eyes and expand. I let my particles drift outward from me. I lose some of myself, but I gain awareness I would not have in the limited perspective of a single body.

The collective is different here, but still beautiful. It is faster, more energy, but also more joy. Whereas the collective on the bay felt peace surrounded by the gentle rhythm of nature, the collective here feels delight and awe at the man-made organism they are within.

I love their excitement, but I hope they don't burn out. The slow rhythm of the rocks and the trees is built to last, but the rush of pure joy will exhaust.

There is stillness here, too. Those who sit and bask in the sun. Those who sleep while the day is cool. The trees standing guard and the wide grass lawn communing with the sun.

But as my particles drift beyond the park, they are caught in a rush of souls and strain. I remain calm, observing, but the air of tension and worry is thick, mixed with the steam from the subway and the smoke from the halal carts.

I pity those who are so caught up in this collective strain they can't see beyond it. This world we have made is artificial, after all. It is made of words and steel and oppression. It is humans playing pretend, like children. But when our time is over, the real world is still there. The earth will still turn, the sun will still burn, and planets will collide.

The greater mystery is not here in the canyons. It is beneath what we have made. I hope people find it.