For too long we’ve taken our own habitat for granted. Unfortunately we can’t afford to do that anymore. Which is a shame, because one of the great joys of life is being able to take things for granted. I know we always see taking things for granted as a negative, but it’s not. Or at the very least it doesn’t have to be. It’s actually unavoidable if you ever plan to get anything done.
I took my car for granted this morning. Didn’t give it a second thought. I assumed it would start and stop, assumed it would get us here, and assume it will get us home. There’s a reason that most days I take my car for granted. There’s a reason most days I take my wife for granted … I take good care of them. Ahh … you see … that’s the rule for taking things for granted. You set aside moments to regularly care for something, and then, all the moments in between, it takes care of you so you can focus on other things.
No meaningful relationship is exempt from being taken for granted. Truth is, if Tina and I didn’t take each other for granted on most days we’d never get anything done. Because we give our relationship the attention it needs when it needs it, then most days we can stand shoulder to shoulder, not preoccupied with how we’re doing, but both of us focused on the road ahead.
But the maintenance has to be there. If not—the relationship, the car, the house, the environment—it breaks down, often at the worst possible time, and that’s when life gets hard.
We live in this wondrous place. Ask almost any one of the millions of people who come to visit Southern California just how special it really is. And there’s no doubt we take it for granted. That’s ok, but right now our relationship with this place needs less taking and more fixing. We need to relearn, or maybe learn for the first time ever, how she communicates with us, what she is trying to say, and what she really needs.
The wind, the sea, the warmth, the sand, the soil, the trees, the easy beauty that surrounds us every day in this place, it all comes from her. It’s a habitat, a recipe for life that she has painstakingly crafted over tens of thousands of years. And it’s the habitat she freely gives, and will keep giving as long as we’re willing to do our part. And if we do she’ll keep giving—because that’s her nature—and we’ll head off into the future together.
Fixing what needs fixing. Learning what needs learning.
Writing a new story for our gardens, our homes, our hillsides, and for all of Southern California. That is the path we must find and walk if we really do want to build ourselves a beautiful life.