Aren't we more complex?

I have spent most of my life outside, but for the last three years, I have been walking five miles a day, minimum, wherever I am, urban or rural, and can attest to the magnitude of the natural beauty that is left. Beauty worth seeing, worth singing, worth saving, whatever that word can mean now. There is beauty in a desert, even one that is expanding. There is beauty in the ocean, even one that is on the rise. And even if the jig is up, even if it is really game over, what better time to sing about the earth than when it is critically, even fatally wounded at our hands. Aren't we more complex, more interesting, more multifaceted people if we do? What good has the hollow chuckle ever done anyone? Do we really keep ourselves from being hurt when we sneer instead of sob?

Pam Houston, Deep Creek: Finding Hope in the High Country

found within the yieldings of this transient space

there’s this disconnect between external image and internal experience; between society's appraisal of your status and activity, the lens of their specific criterion, and the richness of your experiential reality, where u feel u are at any moment in life, in the dusky blooming of the sun during some turning of the earth into a boundless dark, or the woods wreathed in an evening mist swimming past in ecstasy while you drive down a deserted lane; the ecstatic vibrations of new productions, the laughter echoing on an autumn air, tree leaves falling in spirals with such fluidity likening the air to water; forever spasms, the unreal real readily seized by sensitivity, the truth beyond all truths, the only thing that might be made still, utterly found within the yieldings of this transient space.

-Stephen Puckett Humphrey

trust the [cross] process