I worry, that we are a people ...

I worry, that we are a people in a process of great transition and we are forgetting what we are connected to. We are losing our frame of reference.
I worry, that we are a people in a process of great transition and we are forgetting what we are connected to. We are losing our frame of reference.

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Many sports, not just football, have kind of the macho meathead mentality where innovation is almost frowned upon.
 Lawrence Jackson
This is ideological colonization. They colonize people with ideas that try to change mentalities or structures, but this is not new. This was done by the dictatorships of the last century.
The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed. It is the only thing that ever has.
To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
 Henri Bergson

Quotes from the same author

I think about capitalism, consumerism, our consumptive nature as a species approaching the 21st century. I certainly don't have the answers.
I am slowly, painfully discovering that my refuge is not found in my mother, my grandmother, of even the birds of Bear River. My refuge exists in my capacity to love. If I can learn to love death then I can begin to find refuge in change.
For far too long we have been seduced into walking a path that did not lead us to ourselves. For far too long we have said yes when we wanted to say no. And for far too long we have said no when we desperately wanted to say yes. . . . When we don't listen to our intuition, we abandon our souls. And we abandon our souls because we are afraid if we don't, others will abandon us.
When I look in the mirror, I see a woman with secrets. When we don’t listen to our intuition, we abandon our souls. And we abandon our souls because we are afraid if we don’t, others will abandon us.
I wonder how, among the Fremont, mothers and daughters shared their world. Did they walk side by side along the lake edge? What stories did they tell while weaving strips of bulrush into baskets? How did daughters bury their mothers and exercise their grief? What were the secret rituals of women? I feel certain they must have been tied to birds.