Nothing grows in a vaccum.
When people, things, expectations, negative emotions, rationalisations crowd around, they shut off the light, the air, the oxygen, the nurture. No space to grow. Nothing to thrive on.
I suppose some plants make a show of growing, in a jar of water, or even thin air.
They even sprout leaves, nod, talk about furniture.
Then they say, 'Oops, there isn't any more nourishment in this jar of water. What do we do now.'
Nothing. Wheres the soil dammit?
Soil? What's that like?
The stuff that binds us together with each other and the earth. Stuff that gets replenished all the time so in turn it can replenish us. Stuff of life.
No soil. Might as well be in a vaccum. Oh shit, we are in that too. Water unreplenished, the air cut off too. By a wall of bricks. Bubble wrap. Canvas. Now what?
We die a slow death, or fast. You choose.
I choose fast.
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