Maybe this earth does not care about us. In that case, are we wrong–to care about the earth? Maybe it is a superabundance of spirit that gives us care for the earth, this home of ours whose rooms we can never exhaust. We can mine them and drill them and siphon them dry, we can damage them, but we cannot exhaust them. It is we who are exhausted when we call the world exhausted by us and by all of our impropriety. We and all the livings with whom we commune, whose eyes we see are exhausted similar to ours, we have had enough, the pressure is too much, resources are dwindling, our work is meaningless, even our art is becoming artless. The earth meanwhile goes on its way and nods on its axis like one swaying to some secret and internal tune. Falling in love with this great–great but small, small but vast–untender body from our state of exhaustion can be a heroic enterprise, with a background of hope that such love will vivify the earth, and that the earth’s vivification will equal our own. Exhausted–by our abundance, by our tireless love of the earth or of something about the earth. It is a grace and an astonishment to find beings like us anywhere at all, on the earth or away from the earth. Despite being exhausted, despite the implications of our exhaustion being so dangerous, to love how we have loved in the midst of carelessness is one of the primal and everlasting wonders.
But perhaps we can learn something from the earth’s carelessness and endurance in carelessness. Perhaps we care too much, and care too much about our own care, when we care about the earth. It might just be that our caring the way we do about the earth is the brewing condition for our carelessness, if it is not itself the height of carelessness or its efficient cause. Careful beings that we are, we might go looking for care and things to care for all too much. Even if the earth cared, we might care for it too much. For let’s imagine that it cares. Then it cares in its own way, as each thing cares: it splits here and erupts there; it drains here and floods there; it rises up to the sky and stars here, with arms of stone, and there lowers itself to the core of itself as far as it physically can. Then this care we imagine shows as carelessness, while our carelessness shows–ever eager to show–itself as care. Then we have the whole thing wrong, or we at least imagine that we might have it all wrong, and we have to start over again and from the bottom in our considerations of what it means to care for anything, let alone the earth, let alone this piece of dust among all the other dust swirling around everywhere and making fire as though indifferently from one end to the other of all things. It might be a tremendous deficiency of our spirit when we run away from this indifferent fire and rush headlong into our desire and our cares.
Love the Dust 
Hi. You wrote,
“Careful beings that we are, we might go looking for care and things to care for all too much.”
I would pose,
Empathy needs to be taught. It’s not a given. Everyone has the potential to learn empathy. Some are more naturally empathic than others. Not everyone will be able, due to the autism-spectrum.
But so, you believe humans are careful? More than carefree I mean?
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For some reason this comment was in Spam. I wish I could have seen this comment of yours in the context of the others, since it begins with a sense of fellow-feeling.
My sense of care is akin to Heidegger’s Sorge or Care. I believe care to be constitutive of being human. I believe this care to be there even at the height of our “carelessness.” Of course, what you mentioned above concerning the autism-spectrum is important to keep in mind, so that “constitutive care” does not become an excuse to deem others non-human! The care I am attempting to hint at here, and throughout, is the horizon of all of our salient doings, all of our activities, their horizon and their atmosphere.
Care is present in the empath as well as in the stone-hearted. I believe with you that empathy is on a spectrum and is learned through rearing and culture.
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I’m rereading your last paragraph… and I think I see what you’re saying…
and maybe for example religious people who have been taught to “serve” as a form of caring in order to lead, thru “virtues” sort of becomes meddling… and less caring and then maybe it’s not careful… so then we become more cautious or less caring… so it’s a bit of a messy earth and is what it is. which is ok? am I doing better… on my comprehension skill?
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I enjoy this way of spinning on with the vision in this piece. How you related it to the “zeal” of certain religious lives to “serve” is captivating, and can serve as a fine way to dream up alternatives to the ways of caring we have cultivated so far.
I have already read your other messages, and was knocked over a bit by them. These writings come from different layers and elements of me. I do not wish this page to be a home for my “opinions.” I yearn for all and sundry responses to these pieces, and am not holding on to any truth of them.
I am still glad that we have crossed paths. I hope you continue to feel welcomed here.
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knocked over?
I don’t know what you mean by that.
I don’t know what matters to you, in your post, or in your replies.
You don’t need to allow my comments tho.
They aren’t important.
Thank you for welcoming me.
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I am interested in topics like this but… I don’t get hung up on this stuff. Flying is easy.
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Carefree wandering. I agree. I like every voice to have a word…even the land-bound.
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please ignore my previous comments… as I don’t belong in this forum
or your head
I jumped in care less ly
making believe u were true
but that would be me
lying to my self
which is bad for my health
and I care about taking
care
of me first and fore
most.
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This is the part that knocked me over. Though I love the shape of the words, especially how you treated “care less ly,” I was taken aback by your speaking of my truth, or perhaps truthfulness, and how it is somehow dashed for you.
You can lie and make blunders and get needlessly obsessed in your writing as much as you like, and I cannot imagine it destroying your–truth.
I hope your days are what you want.
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well, actually, you are entirely inventing me. your mind creates reality Buddha…
I am not disappointed.
You are.
My days are what I want without lowering my expectations.
When I try and fail I don’t think of myself as a “pathetic” or “impatient” or “weak” or “paltry” failure of imagination.
Those are your words according to your next post.
You have not welcomed me.
You have picked a fight.
I am not capable of destroying anyones truth. Don’t throw your power away to me. I don’t want it.
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Yes, yes, may be.
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