“ And so castles made of sand slip into the sea, eventually.”

 ~ Jimi Hendrix

Let’s see, where shall we begin? Mourning? Loss? Non-attachment? Let’s go with the inter-connected nature of humanity and the universe.

There’s a common tendency during major disastrous events to sort of shrug and tune out and be glad that it’s not happening where you are and carry on with your life.

After all, at the end of the day, carrying on with our lives is what we all must do. Until something stops us in our tracks.

Although I was born in Orange County and have palm trees and freeways baked into my soul, I simply can’t imagine what people in the Los Angeles area are going through right now. It actually boggles the mind to witness the ephemerality of a long established landscape like L.A.

And yet, we members of the human family have to realize this sort of thing is not happening in a vacuum. It’s not a one-off disaster. We find ourselves careening from one epochal event to another.

Each time there will be calls for help and support. We all must do what we can. Folks with the financial wherewithal can open their wallets. Builders will roll up their sleeves. Those with spare rooms may take in lodgers.

But there’s another angle to this. It’s an opportunity for us all to put contributor culture into play.

I remember exploring the smoldering ruins of a house that burned down on the edge of Potrero Hill in San Francisco early one morning back in the 80s. Among the ashes and the huge blobs of melted vinyl that were once the record collection I found a fascinating old book with the cover and half of the pages burnt by the fire and the rest damp from the water from the fireman’s hoses. It smelled like the owners grief.

I think of it now when I think of L.A. We all have our various artifacts of meaning. Books, records, jigsaw puzzles, beloved musical instruments, or that special piece in our cookware collection that we are so proud of. Our paintbrushes and the tools that we use to create. Living specimens of the plant species we’re obsessed with. The connective tissue of our culture as it were.

These are the cultural assets that cannot simply be replaced by a builder or a trip to the furniture store. The stuff we care most about. You could think of one person‘s collection as being a microcosm of the whole universe of similar artifacts.

That any of us fortunate folks out here in the rest of the world may also have a piece of. Just as we are each but a tiny part of the human family, every creative or cultural artifact is connected to its field at large.

Which brings me to the story I read yesterday about Dave Grohl walking into a record store in Seattle and dropping $1000 on vinyl for his friend who had lost his house in the fires.

Let’s be like Dave when our time comes. After someone’s survival needs are met and they are safely rebuilding and recovering, the loving gift of a precious artifact from a fellow enthusiasts personal collection may well be the key to healing their heart.

We are all connected. Long after the ashes cool, let’s do our part and breath life back into the culture, the heart and soul of our shared humanity.

Hanging in there with you, and sending love to our friends in L.A. much love till next Monday 😉

M+

ML #610

Mark Metz
Director of the Dance First Association
Publisher of Conscious Dancer Magazine