Sometimes when you hear a story that doesn't make any fucking sense, it's not because life can get really inexplicably weird at times, it's just because the story isn't true.
“You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving. The great acts of love are done by those who are habitually performing small acts of kindness. We pardon to the extent that we love. Love is knowing that even when you are alone, you will never be lonely again. The great happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved. Loved for ourselves and even loved in spite of ourselves.”
– Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
Main Entry: dig in
1: to cover or incorporate by burying [dig in compost]
2: to establish in a dug defensive position [the platoon was well dug in]
1: to establish a defensive position especially by digging trenches
2 a: to go resolutely to work b: to begin eating
3: to hold stubbornly to a position
4: to scuff the ground for better footing while batting (as in baseball)
— dig in one's heels
: to take or persist in an uncompromising position or attitude despite opposition
Here we find out what we're made of. First, it's what we eat. Second, it's what we love. Third, it's what we do. It's what we hear and touch and see. It's what we build, with our minds and with our hands. It's what we play and sing. It's what we want.
We're working to find a way of living, and living to find a way of working which can sustain us, our souls and bellies, our parents and children, and the land that is all which holds us. We shall be resourceful. We shall make due. We shall overcome. Just kidding. But we might kick ass. And we'll probably have to, in the years ahead. We're here to protect and serve that which is sacred and real, from the dirt in our toenails to the stars in our eyes. We're here for a short time, to see what we can learn.