It is not enough to weep for our lost landscapes; we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again. Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.
We join spokes together in a wheel, but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move.We shape clay into a pot, but is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want.We hammer wood for a house, but it is the inner space that makes it liveable.We work with being, but non-being is what we use.
Tao Te Ching