An Alien written by April Netschke
She hoists her body upon the high balance beam. For her walk in life is a feat of true balance. On one side mother culture promotes the climb to the top of the corporate ladder. She promotes accumulation of inanimate objects and stability in the form of 401ks and accounts filled with numbers followed by many zeros. Social interactions lack depth and meaning with the autonomic question "how are you" and the even more autonomic response of "good." Mother culture condemns the questioning of our origins and the meaning of our existence and instead feeds us fabricated salvation in the form of steeples and repentance. The false bribe of an escape from our inevitable mortality even though at night we lie awake questioning what we are being fed and it's accuracy. Our spirits yearn for the touch of the untainted outdoors but instead our feet are covered with a sock that was made by a sweat shop child in a third world country, in the hide of a dead animal that knew nothing but a life of pain, and our steps are upon the fabrication of linoleum concrete asphalt and carpet. Our minds crave the silence needed for growth within, yet we are inundated with the beeps of emails, texts, and phone calls. At night we go home and press the on switch to a screen that allows us to stupefy and distract ourselves from a real existence while we watch others perform a fake existence. We navigate around in our drivers seats isolated and alone. Not by the power and strength from the movement of our own bodies but instead by the roar of an engine that requires fuel that furthers the murder of our earth. We justify the abuse with the notion that humans are the climax of the earth and that anything and everything is at our disposal.
On the other side of that absurdly high balance beam is where her heart resides. For in her mind her arms sprout into wings made of feathers and she remains completely untethered. Mother Nature has stolen her breathe with the luster of the millions of stars that blankets the pitch back night sky. She takes note of the music and dance the aspen leaves perform in the warm summer breeze. She lays her body down gently onto the cushion of the vibrant moss and feels Mother Nature's warm embrace as the sunlight filters through the forest's canopy. Her toes sink into the sand on the beach and she ponders the life of a single water drop, from its frozen glacial state to the airborne mist that spouts from the humpback's blowhole. Her existence when she is surrounded by the loving embrace of Mother Nature makes complete sense. Her internal dialogue is kind and she feels as if she is enough.
Her body physically resides in mother culture and its fabrication yet her heart is found deep within Mother Nature's truth. For this reason she feels as if she is an alien that walks among those that don't understand her. So she continues to carefully place one foot in front of the other as she teeters on the balance beam between two very different worlds.
