#interconnected

[alexversenaberrie]

[dk-thrive]

At times I feel as if I am spread out over the landscape and inside things, and am myself living in every tree, in the splashing of the waves, in the clouds and the animals that come and go, in the procession of the seasons. There is nothing… with which I am not linked.

—Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections (Pantheon Books, 1961) (via Alive on All Channels)

[ometochtli2rabbit]

[ketchuplaser]

Interconnected

"Batuu Master? Isn't there a better world to stop in?"

"Hmm. No. Drawn here. We were. Padawan."

"Drawn here? Our engines failed, coinsidence."

"Never. I was here. Years ago. Met a man. He will help."

"Help? How?"

"A mechanic. Fixes anything. With an engine. Podracers, freighters. Any of it."

"What did you do for this man to owe such a debt?"

"Hmm. Story for another time. Perhaps. Look ahead."

"That him? With the beard and plasspecs?"

"Indeed."

[cherieve45]

A Thread Unseen

The rain that drums your windowpane

was once the breath of a jungle leaf,

evaporated in heat, carried by trade winds,

and borrowed by a cloud above you.

You drink it. It becomes your blood.

Your blood feeds thoughts you’ll share tonight,

and those thoughts will catch in someone else—

a spark that lights a distant street.

My grandmother’s hands kneaded dough in 1952.

The yeast she used still lives in mine,

passed loaf to loaf, stranger to stranger,

until it reached your breakfast this morning.

Every text you send pings a satellite

built by a man who loved the same song

your neighbor hums while sweeping her porch.

His daughter teaches math to the engineer

who designed the bridge you crossed at dusk.

We are not islands. We are estuaries.

Rivers of choice and accident

pouring into each other, salt and fresh,

unable to say where one ends.

A laugh in Kyoto shifts air pressure.

The pressure tilts a wing over Peru.

The plane lands late. Two people meet.

Their child cures a fever you’ll never get.

So cut an apple. Watch the seeds.

Each one holds orchards you won’t live to see,

but someone will taste them.

And when they do, they’ll taste you too.

[the-au-collector]

Not me writing 4,000 before realizing that Mohs is still in Baticul when the gang picks up Ion before Tataroo Valley 😭

[kellymagovern]

"Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself." —Chief Seattle [x]