I shut the windows to leave the sounds and the smells.
I close the heavy curtains to hide from the heat.
I drink a green smoothie out of self-grown beetroot and lettuce.
I moisture my body in GMO-free, pesticide-free, plastic-free, fair-trade coconut oil.
I moisture my throat with spring water bottled at full moon.
I maintain a sense of control over my body and my health.
I am pure.
Yet, I am not an atomized and isolated individual. I can’t seal myself from the world. Microplastics run through my blood. Exhaust gases stream into my lungs. Pesticides remain on my self-grown beetroot, blown to my food forest from the fields nearby.
They become me.
I am interdependent with the complex ecologies in which I am implicated and through which I am formed. It is impossible to distinguish between me, the experiencing subject, and some imagined separate object that affects me.
I can’t be sealed.
What does it mean - instead of trying to be sealed - to survive and to thrive in toxicity in broken ecosystems and degraded landscapes?