Dogwood Meditations

By Catherine Austin Fitts

The dogwood tree at the Hickory Valley office is in full blossom.

Every few days we cut a branch and arrange it in the room I use to review books and DVDs.  I just wandered over this morning and cut a fresh branch, marveling at its beauty.

The extraordinary burst of gifts from the earth this Spring is a reminder of how much nature produces each year. That harvest is part of what keeps the Slow Burn going. There is more to steal each season.

What is happening to the land and ocean in the Gulf and Japan is profoundly disturbing. The harvest is shrinking – not just now but for an unknown time into the future. The disappearance of food producing land and oceans following the disappearance of retirement savings creates an exponential state of risk.

As I sit and soak in the grace of the dogwood blossoms branching from the crystal vase, I keep thinking of Rumi’s verse:

“Sit, be still, and listen,
because you’re drunk
and we’re at
the edge of the roof.”