Sometimes I prefer the silence of the pen over the clatter of the keyboard.  To write in silence, creating silence.  As long as the words are there, it's fine.  I just don't like being rushed, like when I know I only have 10 minutes to play with.  The worst thing for inspiration is a deadline or a time limit.  Kind of like the worst thing for concentration is noise.  But some people love noise; they love talking through the silence, piercing through and cutting it, ending it.  They need an iPod in their ear, they need the roar of planes and cars going by.  Anything to drown out the silence, even if it's the incessant rambling of a TV screen.  They close themselves off and cover their ears from themselves and their deepest voice.  No wonder all the words these days seem empty and lifeless, no wonder the passion is colorless, no wonder so many people walk around distracted, like drones.  I try to keep my distance, but they always manage to interrupt me.  Like an annoying song that sticks in your head that you can't rattle out no matter how hard you try, despite how meaningless you know the song is -- it's rhythm, all you need is one second and then it's engrained. 
      Sometimes you try to be as clear as possible but you're never understood.  Maybe the noise people keep themselves surrounded by has engrained itself into their minds just like that annoying song, and it's drowning me out.  No amount of repetition brings about comprehension.  It's lonely when all you have is your words but no one bothers to hear them, never mind digest them.  It's easier for them to take what they think they know and just carry on, no need to be bothered with new facts or new ideas.  They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.  They just keep up with the same behavior.  So when you tell them about animal suffering or human suffering or injustices being dealt upon their freedoms, the iPod speaker fits snugly into the ear and they hum you out with their infectious, noxious song.  They keep living their lies, thinking they're living their lives, when in reality it's doing nothing but harm to themselves and, indirectly, to you.  People don't realize that we are all connected, even to the very air we breathe -- too hard to comprehend, too much of a hassle to wrap their heads around, takes too much time, they gotta hurry on, hurry past, live the "dream" that is only near in their minds, never their hands.  While the outside world suffers on. 
      Sometimes people don't realize the harm they are doing, but god forbid you try to enlighten them.  One less steak or cheeseburger or chicken finger or salmon meal a week would be too unbearable, so who cares about the calf ripped from its mother or the chicken abused and dead within a day of its life?  The chicks in the meat grinder, the bludgeoned pig or seal, the dying of the oceans as our nets strangle the water and suck its life dry.  And it all comes back around, when the people who consume and have no regard are punished with ill health and a blocked mind.  There's no room for light to squeeze on through.
      So what's the solution?  How can we raise awareness and consciousness in a world that enjoys drowning out the important things?  How can we change people who are so blocked off already that they refuse to change?  How can we break through the noise to reach the people that love being surrounded by it?  I wish I knew the answer.  Maybe then my words would no longer be silent, but would be vibrant with the same kind of music that sticks in people's heads, only this music would deliver Truth in its notes and rests. 
      Sometimes I love sewing my words together in silence, but I wish they wouldn't have to remain that way.

- Lisa Selvaggio

      Just a couple more days and September will end once again.  It's that time of year when the sun begins to slink away a little earlier, a little faster, each evening, stepping down to take its rest while the moon dominates the sky and the crisp air gives way to the stars.  The trees will give up holding onto their leaves, but not before a final display of color, showing off what they can do before letting go and bracing themselves for the Winter's cold.  It's this time of year that I, too, feel as though it's time to retreat, to rethink and once again focus on what I really want.  While the Spring rejuvenates me and the Summer makes me want to be outside whenever possible, the Autumn is an unwelcome return to life spent indoors for what feels like eternity.  The days go by at a snail's pace, only to bring in frost and force me under the covers to find warmth.  The only good thing about this is I actually get some work done, since I'm no longer distracted by the sun shining brightly and the birds cutting through the warm air.  But this time of year also always seems to mark the return of my impatience and questions.  I once again find myself knowing what I want and realizing I haven't been able to find the means towards attaining it just yet, hoping that the day will come soon when I will no longer be walking alongside the track I should be on, but rather be on the track itself.  I find myself realizing that, while I thought I could compromise and be okay with the way things are, I am utterly unable to settle.  I realize that it's a long way to Spring again, and I dread what's lying in wait for me cloaked in ice and snow.  Every year this happens, but every Spring nothing changes, so the cycle continues, and I hope every year that this will be the year that changes things for the better, the year in which I can find my directions as easily as I can in Mapquest or a GPS.  The lazy Summer days have a knack for bringing out my complacency, but the cold air snaps reality right back into my face.  So here I am again, at the edge of October's rebirth, scrambling for light in the dark evenings, knowing that it will soon extend into dark afternoons when the only light is artificial.  I hope that this time around I'll be able to keep the sun of my soul warm and bright, remaining calm and centered, never losing focus.  It's time I stop compromising my future; it's time I stop thinking of other ways to get by, thinking that those will bring happiness.  It's time to find the focus and hold onto it, never letting my eyes waver from my resolution.  This Winter will be harsh and cold; here's to hoping I can keep my fire burning until the sun takes over again.       

- Lisa Selvaggio

     I never thought that my twenties would be a time in my life when I’d feel most lost.  I thought that by now I’d have been on my way toward fulfilling my dreams and being successful.  Instead I find myself asking why I made the moves I did, and questioning every move I consider making.
     I’m too idealistic for my own good, I know it, but what I really want is to work for something I love.  I’ve often thought maybe writing is what I should do, but pieces never really fall into place, so I’m left sort of self-publishing myself on websites I created or getting published here and there.  And the question always lingers: what would I write about, and who’d buy it?
     The thing that never seemed to change since my childhood, though, is my love for animals and the connection I feel towards them, my love of Nature, and this incredible anger that rises from deep inside anytime any kind of injustice is dealt upon them.  
     And the things in Nature that cause wonder in children but are lost to most adults still grab my attention.  I still gaze in awe at the moon as it rises large and red.  And I’ve often seen birds flying in sync with music piping from my stereo.  I find myself aching for the ocean and the sound of its waves breaking on the shore.  I still believe, no matter what anyone says, that animals are just as conscious as humans, have just as much of an eternal energy.
     I went into college thinking I knew what I wanted but made some compromises and instead tried to make my own way, and to this day that “way” I tried to forge can’t pay my bills.  Halfway through college I changed course but managed to still complete my original intent, just in case I needed it to fall back on and because I was already so far along.  Right out of college I was hired at a job I thought was me, but I quickly realized once again that what I thought I wanted was wrong.  So the questions began, the fear of risk increased, and I still wonder what the right path would be for me to take at this point.
     But along the way, I realized what hadn’t changed all along was reawakened in me with a greater force than ever before.  A few chicks, helpless and innocent, reminded me why I had been trying to go vegetarian.  And an education that only I could provide for myself soon taught me to go vegan.  A pair of kittens, not yet weaned who’d lost their mother, reminded me how much I want to save lives and comfort orphans.  Feeding a baby squirrel whose eyes were not yet opened told me how to feel like a mom even though I have no children.  A cat hit by a car that died in front of me, a fledgling I tried to salvage but lost – all painful reminders that I need to give back, I need to learn so much more.   
     At a time of utter confusion in my life, I can say what I am still connected to, and I can say what direction I’d like to pursue if only the opportunity presented itself to me.  I can say that, despite the arguments with strangers, or even family, over my lifestyle, I am most content knowing that each day I’m doing something that saves lives, even if it’s indirectly.  I know that the time I give to volunteering for the voiceless is good for the soul.  What’s certain is what makes me feel alive.
     The trouble is taking that and making it my full-time priority, not just something I do between the dull ache of the 40-hour workweek.  The trouble is staying strong enough to not join the rat race of society.  The trouble is finding the needle of opportunity in the haystack of distractions, and being in the right place at the right time.  The trouble is trying to stay young while growing and feeling old.  The trouble is I care too much and there are too many lives that need saving and too many minds that need changing that I can’t stomach the thought of wasting a life away on anything but that.  
     The hardest part isn’t just in finding yourself, it’s finding a way to make yourself fit into a world where you feel you don’t belong and, once finding yourself, never letting go.

- Lisa Selvaggio

     What a lot of people tell me to justify their decisions regarding their use of animal products, or animals themselves, as in the form of entertainment, is that they don’t have a choice and just have to.  Or that they were raised to be a certain way, eat a certain way, etc.  As far as someone saying they were raised to be a certain way, for me all that amounts to is that they were raised to not make their own decisions.  But I can’t understand this kind of mentality at all, especially coming from Americans, who pride themselves on their freedom to choose.  Now, we can dispute all day and all night if Americans really have these freedoms or if they’re just illusions, but let’s just go with the idea that choice does exist, not only in the U.S., but in most parts of the developed world.  Why is it so hard then, especially with all the alternatives available to people?  Why do they choose to continue on in their selfish, uneducated ways even after they’ve been educated about abuses endured by animals in all kinds of situations, from the farms on which they’re raised for food to the way they’re treated in zoos and aquariums?
     A friend of mine taking some time off in San Diego, CA told me she was planning on going to the San Diego Zoo.  After giving her a couple of tidbits of information I found regarding their importation of wild animals and how these animals, particularly elephants, will never live out their lives in any way comparable to a life in the wild, she went ahead to the zoo anyway, said she really enjoyed it, and apologized to me, telling me she just didn’t have a choice, she had to go.  The problem here is that she did have a choice.  There are plenty of accredited sanctuaries and refuges where wild animals, byproducts of circuses and other arenas of abuse, are kept so that the public can be educated on their plight.  TAOS (The Association of Sanctuaries) provided a list of sanctuaries which followed their strict guidelines for keeping animals, for example.  Although TAOS is no longer, the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries can be the new go-to site for information on accredited sanctuaries and the guidelines they are required to adhere to.  People can visit these non-profit facilities and see animals up-close, understand why these animals are in captivity to begin with (there’s usually a horrific history of abuse and a terrible life involved), and get everything they would from a zoo.
     In fact, CAPS (Captive Animal Protection Society) posted a press release in July 2009 discussing their new film entitled No Place Like Home, which exposes animal abuse in zoos.  Although the zoos are based in the UK, the abuses are mirrored in other nations as well, including America.  
     What people don’t understand is that zoos typically want younger animals because they attract more visitors, and more money – this is a business of exploitation and profit, after all.  Once these animals are too old or sickly, zoos don’t care for them to the very end like sanctuaries would.  Instead, they often sell these animals to animal dealers, who may then sell them to places like roadside zoos, canned hunts, in which there is no hunting whatsoever since the animals are confined with no escape and then killed, or others who will exploit the animals further (accredited zoos aren’t allowed to sell directly to hunting ranches, so the animals often end up there through some 3rd-party middleman).  Circuses do the same thing.  Zoos that aren’t accredited have that much more leeway to do as they please.
     No matter which way you cut it, or what zoos will tell you about educating our children about animals, these aren’t places you need to go to and support with your money.  Children learn nothing except that these majestic animals are undeserving of a life of freedom and are placed in artificial environments for their selfish viewing pleasure, to usually be taunted and screamed at by these same children whose parents fail to teach them respect for other living things while claiming they want to “educate” them on animals.  But I digress, and I move into totally different problems facing society and movement toward enlightenment and change.  So getting back on track…
     Yes, you do have a choice.  No, you do not need to attend zoos or circuses to see animals up close and personal.  Unfortunately, there are too many animals already in captivity as a result of illegal breeding and trading, and the lucky few who are saved find their rest at some of the accredited and recognized sanctuaries and refuges that genuinely care about the well-being of these creatures and who work tirelessly to implement new laws for their protection.  Those are the places you should support, those are the places you should be giving your money to, those are the places where your children will learn something that will open their hearts towards acceptance of other living things as well as fellow humans.  Those are the places that will spend their money saving, transporting, medicating, and providing the best environment they can until the day these animals die.  Those are the places that will often rescue wildlife, rehabilitate them, and release them back into the wild whenever possible.  Zoos and aquariums, which get their animals from breeders or breed the ones they already have only to get rid of them when they get old, and trap them from the wild as well, can’t say the same.  The evidence is out there, if only you wish to do your research.  You have the choice to learn and change and make a difference.        

For additional info: http://www.animallaw.com/Cannedhunts.htm
http://www.animalliberationfront.com/Philosophy/Morality/Speciesism/Lowest_form_of_life.htm
http://www.animalconnectiontx.org/issues/canned.htm
http://www.watoday.com.au/breaking-news-national/zoo-banned-from-selling-animals-20090831-f44d.html

- Lisa Selvaggio

*This Entry Also Featured in September 2009 The Animals Voice E-Newsletter

It’s been a long, dry season even though the rains have pounded upon the Earth and made it soft to the touch for the vegetation that drinks and flourishes.  But the words have not rained down on me, and I have been the one left thirsty, aching for some kind of inspiration.  All that’s left is emotion and this sensual connection to the world around me, feeling it…but no words…

It’s been a long time that I’ve been circling around inside my head, checking every corner for something, anything, to come alive.  But all I’ve seen is empty space, a wasteland.  Dry, desert space.  And tired eyes. 

I’m desperate for something that will speak to people beyond words.  Something that I can write down and post for everyone to see that will make them think and hopefully make them feel something too.  But I’ve got nothing.  Damnit, where’s the lasso to use upon my muse who’s been missing in action, so I can pull her back down to me so she can whisper once more into my ear?

I watch the footage of the whales trying to flee for their lives, the evident knowledge of danger in their swift motions to the surface, gasping for air as they race.  Then the harpoon strikes one and I see the impact and I can feel the animal’s shock, and I can imagine its companion’s cry, knowing that its beloved is on its way towards death.  I watch as it surfaces for air, choking, writhing, and then the string of bullets to take the light from its eyes and end its majestic existence for good before it is pulled upon the ship to be cut up, innards discarded into the sea for the gulls to feast upon.  The tears come down, that part of me dies along with the whale--that part that dies a little more each time I see these sorts of things--and the anger rises, telling myself to believe that it did not die in vain, that this will make a difference, that someday this torture will end.  But the words fall flat, if they come at all. 

And I wonder why I have not found an ounce of stimulation, not even a trickle.  How many times can you tell people that it does matter to love all creatures, not just the ones that walk upright?  How many different ways can you paint a world where aggression toward one another will subside if aggression toward other life ends?  How many words can be used to describe the same basic principle that far too many people will end up ignoring, and there will be no change anyhow?  Perhaps that whale has died in vain after all…

Too much time and too little words, too little productivity, and too little of what matters.  I am shackled unwillingly to a world of careers and salaries that purchase life.  And in the meantime I fight against the thought of these constraints dictating my ability to find fulfillment.  Shall I pine away my days hoping for some better opportunity, one that may never come?  Or live vicariously as I seem to have always done?  Or take a risk and risk drowning?  Or…I don’t even know anymore…  Too little words, too little inspiration.  It seems to have all gone dry.

The details aren’t always enough.  I can tell myself they are, but they’re not.  It’s been far too long since she left and the words have gone stale.  The colors I see and the sweet air I smell have found no home in my voice and so they remain in my mind. 

As time presses on and the night passes by, the anxiety wanes only because the exhaustion sets in.  Tomorrow will be filled with distractions and stressors, and they will run this river further dry.  And the hands will be useless in this desert mind.      

- Lisa Selvaggio

    A recent news article discussing scientists’ plan to try and stop global warming by using particulates in the atmosphere caught my attention.  If you haven’t seen the chemtrails littering your skies, and if you don’t believe that their purpose, globally, is at least in part for manipulating climate, you need a serious wake-up call.  
    What you need to know is that scientists are discussing ways of curbing global climate change, but while that may sound all well and good, it isn’t when you learn about how they’re planning on doing it.  Reduce pollution and harmful emissions?  No.  Educate people on the harmful effects of agri-business, factory farms, etc.?  Nope.  Give citizens more access to energy-efficient appliances and investments into cleaner energy, like solar panels?  Wrong again.  Teach people how their eating habits, including growing their own food, can help reduce deforestation and water and soil pollution?  Yeah right!  Force manufacturers to focus on earth-friendly products, including things we use on our bodies, instead of continually using harmful ingredients?  Hahaha, wrong again.
    The list can go on and on, but George Carlin had it right when in his book Brain Droppings he said that scientists are the ones that, despite the fact that they claim to be looking for ways to help Nature actually take any information they get about the inner workings of life on this planet and use it for destructive purposes.  Consider what most scientists accomplish and what you’ll soon realize is that most of them have caused far more harm than good.  And here they go again, under the guise of saving the planet – and once again, as Carlin once said, we can’t even take care of ourselves yet and we think we can save the planet – they’re contemplating poisoning our atmosphere worse than it already is and screwing around with climate worse than we already do.  With so many other options out there, why do they insist on pushing the limits and forcing Nature to eventually fight back?
    The article mentions that when volcanoes erupt and spew sulfate particles into the sky, they create a sort of blanket that reflects solar radiation back out and creates a cooling effect.  That’s nice to know, but the bottom line is that when humanity tries to mimic good ol’ Ma, it never quite works out right.  We know it, but we keep trying.  We keep trying because we’re arrogant, selfish, and most of all, lazy.  Grow my own food?  Unheard of; why should I?!  Use renewable resources?  Everything’s renewable, isn’t it?  Use chemicals to make me healthy?  Now that makes sense!  
    It’s ridiculous, and it’s really very sad.  Here we are in the 21st century, watching everything fall apart around us.  Droughts, famine, climatic catastrophes, war, genocide, pollution, species dying that have been around for millions of years…  It’s all very real, and it’s happening now, and we can try to say we’ll prevent drought and famine by use of fine particulates in the atmosphere, but the reality is it’s here already, and if we can’t figure out a solution for it now, let’s not pretend it’s not happening and that we’re instead trying to find a prevention for it.  Let’s not pretend that the rise in fatal disease isn’t our own fault, let’s not pretend that the rise in mental instability, whether you want to categorize it as ADHD or Depression, isn’t our own fault, because we’ve been cleverly figuring out ways of poisoning ourselves all along the way and it’s worked like a charm.  Science today, whether it’s climatology, biology, chemistry, or any medical field of study, is out for two things and two things only: Profits and Control.  And they go hand in hand.  If they figure out how to make and keep you sick, Big Pharma makes profits, and they can control your health at the same time.  If they figure out how to control, AKA fuck up, climate, you can be sure they already figured out a way to capitalize on that too.  So let’s stop pretending that the “medical experts” are actually looking for cures, or that businessmen are really looking for ways to “green” their companies, or that scientists give a shit about anyone except the people who are lining their pockets.  
    Climate change?  They have the perfect solution – the very same species who has helped bring about the issues of which they speak at these conferences of theirs is going to fix things using the same methods that brought the problems about in the first place!  It’s absolutely brilliant!  
    The alarm went off a long time ago, people, and it’s time you finally wake up.

- Lisa Selvaggio

    The tragedy of the human race is that something went wrong in our evolution; something is missing in most of us, and it is not anything new either.  The idea that humans are superior to other beasts and that every other species cannot feel or reason is the greatest fallacy humanity has ever bought into.  I have no idea where it started or when it became engrained in our brains, but I do know that it is holding us back from achieving true greatness through peace and a connection to life itself.  
    When wild animals are taken in, caged up, starved and beaten to learn tricks, and then used for entertainment, I wonder where the empathy has gone.  Why is it that I can put myself into that animal’s situation and feel the fear and the bewilderment?  Why is it that I can compare that to an alien abduction, the kind every human is afraid of, when you’re taken in by another creature to be poked and prodded as they speak a language you don’t understand in surroundings you’ve never seen before, completely out of your element and away from those you love and trust?
    When you hear about a lioness that “adopts” a baby gazelle, for example, it’s intriguing and confusing all at the same time because it defies the laws of Nature, going against every instinct the lioness should have, putting herself and the baby at risk.  But what people don’t realize is that this is precisely the same thing humans do to myriad species, from birds to reptiles to even wild animals.  Our adoption of these other species proves more than necessary that we are incapable of providing them with a suitable environment, diet, and attention.  Pets are often neglected, abused, or become ill and die by direct, or even indirect unintentional means.  So when we see a lioness adopting a gazelle, ripping it away from its herd and its mother, with no way to properly nurse and tend to it, is Nature trying to prove that this is not a system that works; that it is a system humanity, too, needs to relinquish in order for Nature to function properly and all animals to survive the way they were intended?  Once again, we are forcing these animals into an alien environment, away from their own social groups, away from their food sources, away from the natural world itself, and we think that by providing them with artificial everything that they’ll be satisfied and thrive.  
    But what’s missing in so many people that abuse animals, mangle and kill them for food or sport, and even perform vivisection on them?  What makes me and so many others different from the people who have no qualms whatsoever about sowing an innocent animal’s eyes shut in a laboratory for an experiment they know will yield no conclusive medical results and that merely wastes taxpayers’ money?  Why is it that some people continue to believe that animals cannot feel and don’t have connections to one another and even to their own lives?  What “gift” have I been given that makes me believe firmly that animals have souls just as humans do, and that animals deserve to live free lives, unrestricted by humanity’s selfishness?  What makes me see the Earth as my home – a home I want to keep clean and respect so that I can share it with those around me and with the future?  Why is it that there are movements working toward animal liberation and a healthy environment while there are movements at the exact same time lobbying for more money and power at the expense of lives, even human lives, and the life of the planet?  
    I don’t mean to come across as egotistical or “holier than thou,” I just want to comprehend why we can’t all agree that when an animal is strapped to a table and cut open while conscious it does feel pain and horror.  Aren’t the screams enough?  Isn’t the writhing enough?  I would assume that if the animal just sat there, unresponsive, while a needle injected poison into its eye that it, indeed, doesn’t feel.  But that is never the case.  So why can’t scientists, who are supposed to understand more than the rest of us just how bodies work – bodies of humans, animals, and the Earth itself – stop they’re sadistic experiments?  We can all agree that when humans endured these types of experiments under Dr. Mengele during World War II, it was unjustifiably cruel and something that should never occur in the first place.  Why not extend that to other creatures, from primates to rodents to domesticated animals that never see the light of day from their barren, cold cages, and whose bodies are forced to deal with toxins and poisons that will eventually harm humans despite what the FDA will tell you, and whose minds have to endure extreme isolation until insanity sets in and then finally death?  
    Why are the same laws protecting people from these abuses not extended to animals?  Perhaps it’s because some people see nothing wrong with hurting each other either.  That’s why the American government performed above-ground testing of atomic bombs in areas of Nevada and Utah, for example, during the ‘50s – you know, to sacrifice some lives in the name of national security.  That’s why the pharmaceutical industry cares only for profits, not for the fact that its medications do more harm than good, are sometimes fatal, and only suppress humanity’s ability to be truly healthy.  That’s why global corporations care nothing for the environments they destroy or the lives they destroy when they plant themselves in developing countries and pay two cents per hour or force children into labor.  That’s why the food industry pumps animals used for food full of hormones and antibiotics, poisons our water and pollutes our oceans with no regard to the toxic fish that people will eat, and then forces organic, small-scale farms out of business to promote its own genetically-modified crops.  
    But I wonder; if everyone would start seeing the connection we have to other creatures and to the Earth, will the fighting subside, will the sickness wane?  Will we finally see that it’s not worth dropping bombs when we know that those actions won’t just hurt our human enemies, but innocent animals and the Earth too?  If the person who slams the chicken against the wall for no reason except sick enjoyment before it is sent to slaughter realizes that that chicken has the same right to life and security that he does, will he lose his violent disposition?  If the scientist who burns an animal alive to see if an artificially produced chemical is safe for human use realizes that that animal is no less worthy than a human to live a natural life free of its “alien abductor,” will he instead focus his energies and intellect toward sustainable design and a more holistic approach toward health?  I think so.  In fact, I know so.  
    Here I am, with this gift of empathy.  But I’m not alone.  There are billions out there like me.  And I’d like to believe we outnumber the sadists.  Most people don’t want to see animals being mistreated.  Most people don’t want their tax dollars going toward useless experiments.  So we have to tip the scales.  We need to take the control and the power back.  We need to find strength in our numbers and recognize each other in a crowd by making our voices heard and no longer standing in the background or on the sidelines while the un-evolved take their places at the canned hunts, at the circuses and zoos, at the fur- and factory-farms, and at the blades that cut down forests of trees.  It’s time empathy lives again before the lack of it swallows us whole and takes the good down with the bad.  It’s not enough to say we care; we have to show it - first to the place that we call home, our planet Earth; then to the creatures who play their part in helping to keep the Earth livable by being able to thrive and reproduce as intended; and finally toward one another.  It’s time to wipe away the apathy, the selfishness and greed, and replace it with empathy, that simple emotion that let’s us gaze into an animal’s eyes when it’s in distress and see in them our own.

-Lisa Selvaggio            

*Also Featured on All-Creatures.org at www.all-creatures.org/articles/ar-if.html

    I’m sitting here at my desk, windows open, light pouring in, listening to the squeals of the baby birds outside as they patiently wait for their parents to return with stomachs full of food.  I’ve returned home from another day of work, and that feeling of isolation in this world has almost overcome me once again, as it often does in the Spring, when life begins again.  The flowers are blooming even on the trees and a new generation of wild babies are born.  I have to force myself to stop sometimes, pull myself away from the lines on the screen or the paper, to pluck the lilacs from the bush out back to smell one of my favorite scents before the flowers die for yet another year.  I have to push myself out the door sometimes to take in the warm weather that has returned after months of starkness and cold.  I have to do these things despite the fact that I am in love with the natural world and always amazed that Nature has all the answers, answers to questions we haven’t even asked yet.  I can blame society all I want, but it won’t change things.  I can write and write about how humanity has lost its beating heart, left it behind somewhere out at sea or in the desert, but it does no good.  As I walk by a pair of Canada Geese watching over their babies as they mow the grass with their beaks in the parking lot at my job, I note how no one else pays attention or a coworker feels he needs to grab his gun upon the sight of them.  I think of Emerson’s plea to his readers--remain ever youthful inside, like a child seeing the moon for the first time--and think that I am desperately holding onto that last bit of youth inside me as this world slowly eats away at me.  That’s where the feeling of isolation comes in.  
    I love the smell of a forest, that sweet scent.  I hate the smell of cologne, its thickness chokes me.  I love the way the sunlight makes everything appear so clearly.  I hate the way fluorescent lights bother my eyes.  I’ve always had a thing for hands and noted their beauty, but hate the fist and the blow that comes with it or the finger pulling the trigger, as the eyes of the victim widen in shock before the light is stopped from passing through them anymore.  Some people prefer animals dead, posted on their walls or on their backs.  I prefer mine alive, as they live their instinctual existence almost in mockery of ours.  They seem to have the answers, to have it all figured out as we scrape to survive on the streets where no one cares unless you have money in your pocket.  The cat’s pupils widen to let the light in from that other side we think will embrace us someday, and the connection is made with energies that we block out with our radio waves--the sonic absence that silently yet ruthlessly torments our bodies though our eyes can’t see it.  I have seen one too many animals suffering and die as I remained helplessly watching on, not knowing what to do, unable to do anything.  And I spent far too long as a stoic.  It’s time for life; it’s time to use these hands, not just these words.  
    Bowden says Nature is art and so our attempts at art are futile:  
    “The patterns of snakeskin are the envy of textile designers.  The rattle moves at forty to seventy cycles a second and generally has a pitch between a C and C-sharp.  The snakes’ state of grace is not a performance but a life.  We struggle for style, they are born a style.  We struggle for mannerism, they live a court etiquette where every expression of being is as severely restricted as the sequence of a Japanese tea ceremony.  I do not think snakes make art.  I think they live art.  There may be little innovation but there are no faltering or loutish moves….They live in a great amphitheater of sensations, we live in a stale closet of concerns.  Of course, we are also wily.  We make a great fuss of this thing we call Art and insist that it distinguishes us from other organisms.  We relentlessly track its origins in figurines of fat women, scratches on bones, paintings in caves, and the arrangements made for our dead.  If Art matters, it matters simply as an indicator of how seldom we see or feel or touch or taste or flick our tongues against the endless parade coursing through the air.” – Charles Bowden, Some of the Dead are Still Breathing 
    And we love to compare ourselves to the animals, the animals we feel so superior to that we feel we should control.  A woman may have the wide, innocent eyes of a doe, a man may have the strength of a bull, someone may be as sly and cunning as a fox.  Yet we hunt deer and fight and kill bulls and send the dogs to take down the foxes.  We want to fly like the birds yet shoot them from the skies.  We long to travel down to the deepest levels of the ocean to see what’s down there, or at the very least swim amidst the living rainbow that is a coral reef, yet we throw poisons into the water and kill the lives that call it home.  Constantly comparing ourselves, dressing up in their furs and feathers, apparently preferring them dead than alive.  Perhaps it’s jealousy because deep down we know that we can have all the paintings and all the sculptures of the human form we like but we will never compare.  We lack the colors and the designs and so we rip them off the backs of those who have them, then put a high price on the stolen merchandise.  
    But no matter how many times you try, everyone’s too busy or too tired to pay any mind.  I care not for violence and domination and so want to a see a world that has not been tarnished--see that river lined with trees looking crystal clear instead of brown, see that forest that was once under the new highway.  But that was taken from me, and no one asked if it was okay.  Nor do they ask me today if it’s okay to pollute my land, my birthright, as it is for every other living thing.  Adults don’t seem to remember how to share.  Nevertheless, it is Spring, and Summer will be here any minute, when the babies begin their first year on Earth and learn to avoid us at every turn.  For now, I’ll stop to listen to them and take in the scents in the air, knowing that, although so much of me is numb, I am alive because I care.

-Lisa Selvaggio
    

Alter Bridge, one of our favorite bands at Paragon Music Magazine have some inspirational songs, but here's one I wanted to share with all of you: "Before Tomorrow Comes" (listen to it for a limited time on our Paragon Earth Myspace page). 

So before you turn away from the voiceless who suffer needlessly at the hands of the merciless each and every day, consider what you can do, and what the reward will be for all of us in the end. 

"Before Tomorrow Comes"
By Alter Bridge

I couldn't sleep I had to listen
To a conscience knowing so well
That nothing comes from indifference
I look inside of myself

Will I find some kind of conviction?
Will I bid the hero farewell?
Will I be defined by things that could have been?
I guess time will only tell
I guess time will only tell

[Chorus:]
So don't let it be
Before tomorrow comes
Before you turn away
Take the hand in need
Before tomorrow comes
You could change everything

I curse my worth and every comfort
That blinded me for way too long
Damn it all I'll make a difference from now on
Cause I'm wide awake to it all
Cause I'm wide awake to it all

[Chorus]

Does anyone care it ain't right what we're doing?
Does anyone care it ain't right where we're going?
Does anyone dare justify how we're living?
Does anyone here care at all?

[Chorus]

We could be so much more than we are
We could be so much more than we are
We could be so much more than we are
Oh this much I know

    The Romantic writers were there, at the cusp of the transition from a life lived in Nature to one turned industrial, in cities.  They shouted in protest and rebelled against it, warned against it, and cried for the future, but no one listened.  And so now here we are - detached, transforming the entire planet into a city.  And no one looks at the new leaves of a Spring tree and feels peace anymore because they're too busy at their jobs, distracted from what's real as they deal with abstracts and ledgers, making enough money to buy a house they'll never really own instead of just making one like every other creature has the capacity to do.  Ignoring our weakness as we claim to be superior.  
    The bird rests in the leaves of the tree, the bright green surrounding the varying shades of brown upon its wings as he feels the rainwater refresh his beak.  The mother duck walks her youngsters across the parking lot, making sure the cars don't get in their way as they speed by, and her babies stay near as they wade and splash in a small puddle created in the concrete.  We've lost our way, it's scary.  Why doesn't the sound of the birds chirping deliver solace anymore, as it must for all the others living amongst the giant rings of wood?  Why can't we sit under the branches as they cut the light, and simply be?  
    We speak of economies, we speak of poverty, we speak of justice, and we speak of currency exchange.  We speak of artificial intelligence, we speak of surveillance, and we speak of war.  But never do we speak of the beauty of the most simple things that make us alive.  Life is not supposed to be this complicated or this hard.  Life is looking at that plant and feeling its energy, knowing it's alive and it's listening to the music given to us by our Mother by way of the birds in the skies.  It's feeling an ultimate and everlasting connection to everything else that's alive, because then you realize that you are just as much alive.  And so you live along with them, not against them, not using them.  That's life - breathing in the energy of a soul that never dies, the soul of the Earth and how magnificent it is that everything just fits so perfectly together, if only we can go back to how it was meant to be. 

-Lisa Selvaggio