Too thin, too fat, too broken, too scared. Need a bandaid, need a pill, need a difficult “solution.” We need to impose our superior human minds to create a solution from this chaotic void we call the world. Whether it be fixing our imperfect bodies – working out more, drinking less caffeine, wearing the right types of flattering clothes, or imposing our changes on a natural space – weeding the garden, for instance – we constantly feel the need to fix things. For some reason, we are convinced that nature is built broken and we need to fix it. That in fact, we are the only ones who can fix it.
But what if, what if, we are wrong? What if everything is already perfect, and all that we need to do is work on changing our perceptions, and our relationships, to this idea of perfection?
Take our bodies for instance. Our feet are built perfectly to support us, and yet we stuff them into over-cushioned shoes that are supposed to “fix” the structure of our feet, when really they just cause weakness and injury. Here’s what Christopher McDougal, in his book “Born to Run,” has to say about that:
“Just look at the architecture…Blueprint your feet, and you’ll find a marvel that engineers have been trying to match for centuries. Your foot’s centerpiece is the arch, the greatest weight-bearing design ever created. The beauty of any arch is the way it gets stronger under stress; the harder you push down, the tighter its parts mesh. No stone mason worth his trowel would ever stick a support under an arch; push up from underneath, and you weaken the whole structure. Buttressing the foot’s arch from all sides is a high-tensile web of 26 bones, 33 joints, 12 rubbery tendons, and 18 muscles, all stretching and flexing like an earthquake-resistant suspension bridge.”
The more we try to fix, to “correct,” to change, the more damage we are doing. The same holds true in permaculture farming. The more weeds we pull, the more fertilizer we dump, the more we try to interfere with the natural workings of things, the poorer the soil quality gets, the more polluted our water systems get, the less productive our crops become.
So why can’t we just stop trying so hard to fix things that are not broken? Why is it so hard just to love and accept ourselves and this earth, when both were built to flourish? Maybe the only thing we need to fix is our ability to trust. To trust ourselves. To trust our bodies. To trust the Universe. This is the practice of Yoga. This is the place where tolerance starts.
In Search of the Great Perhaps 