All living things are the same.  Life is complex, achingly beautiful, and enduringly mysterious. Sometimes it's hard not to be amazed by its toughness.  Life goes on, stubbornly, even after disasters occur. 

 But life, while incredibly durable in recovery,  is fragile while it exists.  That is because the conditions for life are so specific.  All organisms have optimal environments and internal balances which cannot be breached without disaster.  In the bloodstream of humans, a minor decrease or increase in potassium levels can be fatal, as can blood which becomes too acidic or alkaline.  Life is a walk on a tightrope with the balancing pole handled by a master wire-walker.  Life's corrective mechanisms, however, are meant to work within a narrow range of challenge.  A hurricane will blow even Phillipe Petit off the high wire. 

 All life is the same.  Oceans.  Animals.  Humans.  It is our failure to understand this, our hubris about our superiority as a species that has gotten us into what is rapidly becoming fatal trouble.  As I listen to the increasingly depressing news coming from the Gulf of Mexico, I am continually reminded of the parallels to be found in our own personal pollution.

 The rapid development of technology in the 20th century has led us to a dark place.  We have come to believe that we can control nature, even create it.  We have come to rely on technology as a way to repair the damage we have done to ourselves and our planet.  The fragility of life is unimportant.  We can do what we please, consume what we please, and fix it all later.  The message of the Gulf should be one we take personally.  Just as the Gulf is dying, so are we.

 In the Gulf, BP extended the reach of its technology beyond its powers.  In order to produce the oil we gulp like thirsty infants, pipes have been placed into the very heart of our tender earth.  Did we ever think about the fact that we had no equipment to address a problem at that depth?  Did we ever consider the extent of the disaster that would occur if things went wrong?  No. When consumption and gluttony are primary, questions of stewardship become secondary.  

 Now we find, to our horror, that life can be easily extinguished by our errors.  Because of our supposed scientific prowess, we always felt we could stem the tide, mop up the mess.  As of this morning, a machine that looked like a pair of ragged lobster claws was trying to hack away at BP's spewing oil pipe.  This resembled nothing so much as an attempt to stop a ruptured aorta with a pair of pliers.

 So too is it with us.   Because all life is the same, we are the Gulf of Mexico: a gorgeous, fragile ecosystem that should be preserved at all costs.  Instead, we have allowed endless pollutants in the form of manufactured foods, additives, pesticides, carbon monoxide, sugar loads, preservatives, ad infinitum, into our inner marshes.  We gasp when a blood test shows that we have diabetes, when a CAT scan reveals a cancer.  We turn to technology to fix us:  pills, stents, injections, surgeries...only to find that these are roughshod solutions, about as precise and effective as the aforementioned pliers. 

 Like the people of coastal Louisiana, we should be angry that we have trusted those who told us that all this was safe.  When we stop connecting with who we are, with what our planet is; when we focus more on what feels good for the moment, we become vulnerable to the talk of people who want to sell us the things we crave.

For the past 20 years, my extended family has visited the Bahamas and has enjoyed its pristine beauty.  It is a place that is dear to our hearts.  The photo above was taken in January.  What will this beach look like next year at the same time?   I found myself having the very same thought as I stood behind a mother and her daughter in Starbucks this morning.  The mother was very overweight, fairly bursting out of her jeans, and having some difficulty walking.  Her daughter was about 16, a bit too heavy and very pretty. Her mother offered her a large chocolate frappacino with extra syrup and encouraged her to add whipped cream.  The barista happily made it up.  Starbucks contentedly collected the six bucks.  It was 7 am.  

All living things are the same.