COP15: Primordial Flood Fear

Those gathered in Denmark for the COP15 are displaying an inordinate fear of water and an unhealthy dislike of foliage and fire.

Perhaps, the Danes have an ingrained fear of water due to their age-old battle against it. They've been holding it back for centuries, building dykes and draining it with their spectacular windmills. It's in their blood. Tulip speculating is in their blood too, and we remember that with sidewise fondness and bywords of derision.

The dark and damp depths of the Great Flood run strong throughout COP15. It is a bit wet and wintery in Copenhagen this time of year. The duck ponds in the Great White Circle around Bella Center welcome with more water as the delegates enter.

Then there is the horror flick "Please help the world," in which the children flee from the rain storm into the dark confines of their tall and aesthetically devoid apartments where the rain looms against the windows as they watch televisions which show the horrors of global warming. Then, after an evening of healthy fear from the screen get tucked in for a nightmare.

And again, that nasty water appears. The little girl clings to a dead tree (again, that dislike of healthy trees) while the water rages inland and beneath her little feet.

Then, there are the displays of melting glaciers and the talk of rising sea levels. Yet in all this fear of water and cold grayness, there seems to be no light or fire. How can the water be rising if there is no light, warmth, or fire? Where is the sun in this land? Perhaps, the sun must be avoided because it would bring up the idea that there are other causes of global warming outside of mankind.

And fire, it must not be spoken of amongst those of cold heart. They may melt. Fire is absolute and dangerous. It warms and brightens. Fire takes the edge off of damp souls and warms us enough to be limber for love and joy.

COP15 is a grand display of those afraid of the dark and cold, the flood and the reasons for it hidden in the shadows of their nightmares, haunting them, becoming larger than life. The Flood, a deep memory, something to face, something to overcome.

Until those gathered at COP15 can grasp the branches of a live tree, find a tall mountain, and grasp more securely to their old faith and fidelity they will not survive the watery apocalypse they so fear. Nor will they survive the fiery one they dare not speak of.

And for, heaven's sake when will the preachers of the world stop using children as an emotional vehicle? When will we grow up?

image: Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt