Become New Beauty

Become New Beauty; Be Beautiful; Disperse

We call it birth; life; death. In each of these, we find infinite possibilities, some desirable, some terrible. We may be born fashionably beautiful, or deformed, or dead. We may live brimming with health, or chronically ill. The end of our lives may come soon or late, in pain or peace, or unknowing. Our death may be final, a new beginning, or the entrance into eternal bliss. In all of this we see ourselves like others of our kind, and yet unique; irreplaceable and yet dispensable. Few of us see ourselves as whone with Mother Earth; but this is how she knows us; this is how our creator understands us; this is how we are. Because we are whone with her, when she forms us, each of the uncountable times she forms us, and each of the uncountable forms, within which we become functional, vital elements, whether virus, or stone, spruce, or hawk, wild water, or human, we become new, and beautiful.

Because we are, whatever our form, always whone with her, so long as we endure in that form, no matter what we do or what happens to us, we remain beautiful. We can disappoint her. Especially because of our tools, we humans can express a poor, even unacceptable, fit with the rest of her creation. This, collectively, we have done. But we remain beautiful. Out of this, she may have decided that we must die, and disperse, collectively. (She has done this with many other species, although for quite different reasons. None of her forms are permanent.) If we can, will, change, we can still avoid this swift, collective end. But whatever our choices, we will disperse, individually, or in mass, beginning with what we call death. We will disperse from our present human form, and be embraced by her, as before, to shape us into different, new, beautiful forms, similar to others, and yet unique. We will contine, at least as long as does she, in that indescribably rich, weaving, almost infinitely wide river, which is her past, present, and future. Within her, whone with her, both our disappointing, even devastating failures, and our greatest, most joyous successes, are intertwined with her mystery and wonder. And our many dispersals are, always, triumphant ends, and exciting, refreshing beginnings, leading each time to a breathtakingly new, and surprising, awareness as we participate in our youthful, challenging, whone gifts from her, rooted in a particular hope, and an expectant now, secure in our Mother Earth. This is her truth, and ours. Hear her. Bill Luttrell, one voice of Mother Earth

Become New Beauty

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