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There are people who hug trees

There are people who hug trees

There are people who hug trees. I thought it was just a myth until I found someone who takes it seriously on Facebook. She gives each old tree a genuine embrace as if to say, ‘Thank you for the shade, and for the oxygen.’

I’m in awe of such gratitude. I really do try to give anyone who is nice a show of appreciation. I never accept a compliment without paying one back. But I don’t think I have ever stopped to thank a tree, for just being a tree.

Communication between humans and inanimate objects feels weird but maybe it’s necessary. How about thanking a basin for holding water? How about thanking a television for the news?

Perhaps if we told our credit cards how much we loathe and detest paying interest on them, they may start to deliver unconditional love. Most banks project that image anyway: we Iove you for your insatiable need, and we think you’re sexy because you’re imperfect.

I drive past those types of billboards, and I laugh to myself about how banks make success and failure look like exactly the same thing. It’s only money addicts that manage to maintain their self-respect. Even the gamblers talk as though there’s something wrong with the system, and not them.

All the others have to come to terms with the notion of ‘substance abuse.’ Otherwise they are not yet recovering. Keep hugging 

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Welcome to my ant story

Welcome to my ant story

Welcome to my ant story. In my ant farm there’s a tunnel from my heart to my art gallery. I dug it eating sand. Seriously, I keep wondering whether Francis Bacon would have been so messy if he knew...

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Welcome to my ant story

Welcome to my ant story

Welcome to my ant story. In my ant farm there’s a tunnel from my heart to my art gallery. I dug it eating sand. Seriously, I keep wondering whether Francis Bacon would have been so messy if he knew...

Read more