Sekvoja je brez-milostno razgrinjala mojo zapuščino. Ni se ustavila ob namigu nanjo, vanjo me je popolnoma potopila. Vedela sem, da je dobrohotna in da ve, koliko zmorem prenesti. Njen širok vejast objem me je tesno stiskal k sebi in mi sporočal, naj se ne bojim.
Spomnila me je, kako sem prišla do tu. Razkrila mi je pravi obraz mojih dognanj, ki sem ji dala ime ‘znanost’. Ko sem imela vse popisano, poimenovano in pojasnjeno, sem vsemu dodala še vrednost, vse primerjala med seboj in dajala večje in manjše pomembnosti. Ni bilo vse enako pomembno. Apnenčast kamen, ki ga je bilo videti veliko, je bil manj vreden kot bleščeč kamen, do katerega sem se morala dokopati. Rastline, ki so mi bile koristnejše sem udomačila, druge označila kot plevel in iztrebila. Živali, ki sem jih smatrala za meni koristne, sem gojila, druge pobijala za zabavo.
Zaradi upora narave proti mojemu osvajalskemu pohodu, sem si morala izmisliti vse mogoče pretkanosti, zverinskosti, orodja in orožja, da sem si jo podredila. To me je močno obremenilo. Potrebovala sem sistem, da mi olajša delo in vse to naredi učinkoviteje in nato še vzdržuje. Izmislila sem si jekleno-betonske zgradbe, jih prepredla s tehnologijo, mešala zvarke in strupe za lovljenje in hranjenje živali… da bi z njimi služila in jih jedla. Potoki klavne krvi so me poživili še bolj. Danes temu sistemu za gojenje in klanje živali rečem živinoreja. Kdor jo hoče spoznati in se imenovati strokovnjaka živinoreje, mora od 8 do 15 let prebirati zapletene študije, da bi jo osvojil. In tako za vsako vejo moje neskončno razvejane ‘znanosti’.
Vse manj sem razumela živa bitja, pesmi gozda pa nisem več slišala. Njihova žalostinka me ne gane, otožni kriki ptic ne prodrejo več vame. Pozabila sem, da sem živa in začela verjeti, da je vse okoli mene enako neobčutljivo kot sem sama. Moj dotik je postajal vse hladnejši, prav strupen, spletkarski in zahrbten. Moja dušna lepota je izginjala pod težo nezadovoljstva in mi skazila telo. Postajala sem vse bolj zabuhla kot napuh, ki sem mu služila. Telo je postalo trdo in obloženo, notranje razžrto in neodzivno. Danes sem tako šibka, da ne morem ne prenehati s tem, ne vrniti se tja, kjer sem skrenila s poti. Duša mi trepeta v zadnjih izdihljajih enako kot Zemlja že dolgo poka po šivih.
(Iz vsebine ŠK Zgodba in pesem gozda)
The Path of My Creations 3/6 – My ‘Science’
The redwood ruthlessly unfolded my legacy. She didn’t stop at the hint of it, she completely immersed me in it. I knew she was benevolent and knew how much I could handle. Her wide branching embrace hugged me tightly to her trunk and told me not to be afraid.
She reminded me of how I got here. She revealed to me the true face of my findings, which I named ‘science’. Once I had everything listed, named, and explained, I added value to everything, compared them to each other, and gave more and less importance. It wasn’t all equally important. The limestone, which seemed abundant, was less valuable than the shiny stone I had to dig up and work for. I domesticated the plants that were more useful to me, labeled the others as weeds, and exterminated them. I raised animals that I found useful to me, killing others for fun.
Due to nature’s resistance to my conquest, I had to invent all sorts of tricks, bestiality, tools and weapons to subdue it. This put a heavy strain on me. I needed a system to make my job easier and make it all more efficient and then maintain it. I invented steel-concrete buildings, interspersed them with technology, mixed welds and poisons to hunt and feed animals… to make money and eat them. Streams of slaughter blood invigorated me even more. Today I call this system for raising and slaughtering animals livestock farming. Anyone who wants to get to know it and call himself a livestock expert has to read complex studies for 8 to 15 years to master it. And so for every branch of my infinitely branched ‘science’.
I understood living beings less and less, and I no longer heard the songs of the forest. Their grief does not move me, the mournful cries of the birds no longer penetrate me. I forgot I was alive and began to believe that everything around me was as insensitive as I was. My touch was getting colder, just toxic, intriguing and insidious. My soul beauty disappeared under the weight of dissatisfaction and ruined my body. I was getting more and more bloated like the vanity I was serving. The body became hard and coated, internally ragged and unresponsive. I am so weak today that I can’t stop doing this, nor can I go back to where I veered off course. My soul trembles in its last breaths, just as the Earth has long been cracking at the seams.
(From Study circle The Story and Song of the Forest)
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