The news regarding climate change is disheartening. A large majority of people in the United States don't think, or choose not to believe, that global warming is real. This, in contrast to the vast majority of scientists who say that a new global warming and climate change episode for earth is underway.
The July issue of Scientific American features and article by Lee Kump, titled The Last Great Global Warming. Kump not only offers technical evidence regarding global warming cycles of the past, but makes the case that the current global warming is heating up much more quickly than those of past ages. The cause of the rapid pace is human activity related to the use of fossil fuels. What the rapid pace means is that there will be much less time for species to adapt. That in turn means more species will die off.
The current issue of Rolling Stone features an article by Al Gore titled "A Climate of Denial" that addresses some of the reasons why people are skeptical or choose to ignore the 97% of the world's scientists who speak of global warming with some degree of urgency. In particular, Gore addresses the misinformation and outright lies that are used to "balance" the truth of global warming on the public airways. TV news in particular is very misleading. All of this is of course to allow those who benefit from the world as it is to keep on benefiting even though many people and species will suffer.
Of the people who accept that Climate Change is reality, there are a few people who have been able to decrease their private use of fossil fuels in ways that are innovative and successful. However, as long as they live in the USA and use the public roads with street lights and traffic signals or tap into the internet or listen to the radio, or access energy from solar panels or use goods that were produced using fossil fuels these same people continue to benefit from the energy provided by fossil fuel. It is painful to be aware of how much of these carbon producing energy sources are part of our collective way of life.
Recently I have noticed that among those who are actively pursuing life beyond fossil fuels it is very easy to become judgmental towards people who continue to use -- much like a recently-in-recovery addict can become pretty seriously condemning of those who are still addicted. It is as if the one in recovery is trying to put as much distance as possible between him or herself and those others and that lifestyle that is still seductive. Yet judging others is no more helpful within the transitioning community than it is with addicts. Kindness, love and compassion are needed if our communities as a whole are going to make the changes necessary for energy descent.
In the midst of our work we need kindness, for the situation is tough enough without the added pressure of difficult relationships. Our society, our cities, schools, and workplaces are all dependent on cheap energy. Our life in family and community and even our religious or spiritual centers are dependent as well. Traveling to the next state, or city, or neighborhood for day to day activity is often mandatory if you want to keep a job, see or support the people you love, visit the doctor, or go to school. Walkable neighborhoods that include all that a person needs are not yet available for everyone. Many extended families rely on quick access by car in order to help one another. Public transportation is generally scheduled around day jobs not off-hours-emergencies or middle-of-the-night service sector jobs.
It seems like the people who can most easily practice energy descent no longer need to work, have already raised their children with as many energy saving devices as were available, taken that exotic vacation, accumulated savings or retirement benefits and have a comfortable home. These people cannot be compared for energy efficiency against young families or working people of today since they already went through those heavy use stages of life. A better comparison would be to look at others of the same life circumstances.
Our culture has not changed. The systems that need to change have not yet changed yet even so, what was good once is no longer good - and we all need help in transitioning.
"One of the best illustrations of this new reversal of what is "good" and "bad" is aviation travel. A single return flight between New York and London produces 1.2 tons of greenhouse gases per passenger, the equivalent of a year's allowable emissions if emissions were rationed fairly among all of the planet's human beings...The distance we must travel to visit friends and partners and relatives on the other side of the planet..may be our undoing: The world could be destroyed by love." (Quote from A New Climate for Theology by Sallie McFague, Minneapolis; Fortress Press, 2008.) And yet, good people find themselves trapped by love, and culture, and systems that they have no control over. If the only job one can find or daycare facility that has an opening is too far to walk to with the baby and all that the baby needs and public transportation or the schedule is not available when needed then driving may be all that a person can do.
It seems to me that those of us who less often find ourselves in such situations need to practice love and compassion and at the same time work for the systemic changes that will make life beyond fossil fuel possible for everyone, not just the comfortably situated.
Joanna Macy in her book World as Lover World as Self suggests that while the human species may not make it this time, it matters a lot how we go. Love, kindness and compassion; gentle encouragement, acceptance and trust that our friends and those other people will make the best choices they can given as much real information as they have access to and the freedom to decide. We can only change ourselves and even then, only according to the wisdom and access we have at any given moment. We cannot change others, but with grace, we might be able to influence one another with love.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Moving forward slowly as fast as I can.
Transitioning to a way of life that is not dependent on fossil fuel is a conversation that seems to be finding its way into the mainstream at long last. In the local county planning organization meetings comments can be heard like "maybe people won't be driving cars so much" and "restore the natural habitat in lieu of a new road" or "we should have a committee for emergency preparedness that considers energy depletion." These may not yet be the dominant planning concerns, but at least they can now be voiced without laughter, sarcasm or argumentative disagreement.
More than three years ago I went to a Transition Town presentation and shortly after attended a training followed by a small committee meeting where we talked about the need to strengthen community especially in our own neighborhoods. I felt rather embarrassed at that meeting when I realized that I only knew the names of one or two of my neighbors. Mind you, I had been living in the same neighborhood for 25 years. Many of the people who lived nearby were recent arrivals, although some had moved in 10 or 15 years before and I still did not know them by name. I thought at the time that I needed to do something about my lack of connection to the people who were closest to me in proximity. It was clear in the conversation that most of the people in the committee meeting were as disconnected as I was. At the end of the meeting we agreed to take steps to reach out in our local areas. We hoped to hold one another accountable as a way of motivating change.
As circumstances would have it, that particular group never met with that same intention again, but as I reflect on my own journey, I realize that the group had a profound effect on me nonetheless. Today I know the names of all of my closest neighbors, a number who are some blocks farther away, and not just those who are in the same stage of life as my partner and I. Years before I had known at least by sight the neighbors who had children the same age as my own though I knew few other neighbors unless they had some kind of complaint. Now my neighbors keep one another apprised of neighborhood developments through email or conversations in the street. Not long ago I even took a flyer I made to my neighbors inviting them to a house meeting and this week another neighbor has invited everyone to a Memorial Day barbecue. The embarrassment of not knowing the people next door has been replaced by a satisfying sense of growing community spirit. It did not happen over night. I had to reach out to people one at a time.
As I pushed myself to reach out I learned that there was an official county neighbor association with elected officers and monthly meetings. For the first 25 years of living in the same place I am embarrassed to say, I did not know that it existed. I remember the first meeting that I went to quite well as I stood up to speak at the wrong moment and was told firmly to sit down by the chair. His behavior was not tolerated by the other members who encouraged my participation so I felt welcomed in spite of the call down.
I was chagrined to learn that I could not vote at the meeting even though I had lived in the neighborhood longer than many of the others. The group expected people to have participated in a minimum of five of the monthly meetings in order to become eligible to vote. I remember thinking that would mean five whole months which seemed like such a long time to have a voice and in the moment it probably was. I have been a voting member for several years now. The time of waiting to become familiar with the organization went by very quickly. I am able to express my opinion and vote on issues with some degree of understanding. I even know the people personally who were on the ballot for the water district and county commissioner positions. I am also able to invite and encourage new participants.
About the same time that I got involved with Transition thinking, I recognized the need to begin gardening again. Many years before I had raised vegetables when my children were young and I was at home with them. As I became involved in the work world I left gardening behind and allowed weeds and natural growth to take over my yard. At first I thought I could just hire some folks who put gardens in to get me on the road to growing food. However, after one look at my overgrown and tree shaded yard they declined stating a need to garden where there was a chance of success. I took a look around and realized with some embarrassment that I let everything grow to an unhealthy density. It was as if I let myself become barricaded from the surrounding community. And perhaps that is what I had done.
With the help of family and friends I began clearing out the overgrowth to let in the light. Down came blackberry vines and sucker trees. The Laurel Trees were trimmed back, thinned out and the resulting branches became a nice stash of firewood. With the help of a neighbor who owned a plow I put in a garden. It was thrilling to reap my first garden bounty although compared with what the garden produces today, it was really meager. Now my partner and I have learned to garden through the winter and there is always something to eat. We have planted many perennial food plants and find that we are asked for advice from others who have begun to take transition steps.
Every new step toward change seems huge at the time. I didn't know my neighbors' names. I didn't know how to use a cloche. Neighborhood meetings were a mystery. But now, looking back I know I have come quite a long ways even as looking forward I know there is a long way to go. Tomorrow the world could change. Energy depletion could catch up with our way of life. Cars and trucks could come to a standstill and the grocery shelves could be bare. But more than likely there is still a bit more time to move forward into a new localized existence. It is important to lay the foundations well; to know the people around us; to know how systems work; to be aware of weather patterns and planning meetings and to be intentional about the way we live. There is no way to hurry up the work that needs to get done if we want it to last, even when predictions of peak oil and peak everything cause anxiety or fear. For a new and sustainable future all any of us can do is to continue moving forward slowly and carefully as fast as we can.
More than three years ago I went to a Transition Town presentation and shortly after attended a training followed by a small committee meeting where we talked about the need to strengthen community especially in our own neighborhoods. I felt rather embarrassed at that meeting when I realized that I only knew the names of one or two of my neighbors. Mind you, I had been living in the same neighborhood for 25 years. Many of the people who lived nearby were recent arrivals, although some had moved in 10 or 15 years before and I still did not know them by name. I thought at the time that I needed to do something about my lack of connection to the people who were closest to me in proximity. It was clear in the conversation that most of the people in the committee meeting were as disconnected as I was. At the end of the meeting we agreed to take steps to reach out in our local areas. We hoped to hold one another accountable as a way of motivating change.
As circumstances would have it, that particular group never met with that same intention again, but as I reflect on my own journey, I realize that the group had a profound effect on me nonetheless. Today I know the names of all of my closest neighbors, a number who are some blocks farther away, and not just those who are in the same stage of life as my partner and I. Years before I had known at least by sight the neighbors who had children the same age as my own though I knew few other neighbors unless they had some kind of complaint. Now my neighbors keep one another apprised of neighborhood developments through email or conversations in the street. Not long ago I even took a flyer I made to my neighbors inviting them to a house meeting and this week another neighbor has invited everyone to a Memorial Day barbecue. The embarrassment of not knowing the people next door has been replaced by a satisfying sense of growing community spirit. It did not happen over night. I had to reach out to people one at a time.
As I pushed myself to reach out I learned that there was an official county neighbor association with elected officers and monthly meetings. For the first 25 years of living in the same place I am embarrassed to say, I did not know that it existed. I remember the first meeting that I went to quite well as I stood up to speak at the wrong moment and was told firmly to sit down by the chair. His behavior was not tolerated by the other members who encouraged my participation so I felt welcomed in spite of the call down.
I was chagrined to learn that I could not vote at the meeting even though I had lived in the neighborhood longer than many of the others. The group expected people to have participated in a minimum of five of the monthly meetings in order to become eligible to vote. I remember thinking that would mean five whole months which seemed like such a long time to have a voice and in the moment it probably was. I have been a voting member for several years now. The time of waiting to become familiar with the organization went by very quickly. I am able to express my opinion and vote on issues with some degree of understanding. I even know the people personally who were on the ballot for the water district and county commissioner positions. I am also able to invite and encourage new participants.
About the same time that I got involved with Transition thinking, I recognized the need to begin gardening again. Many years before I had raised vegetables when my children were young and I was at home with them. As I became involved in the work world I left gardening behind and allowed weeds and natural growth to take over my yard. At first I thought I could just hire some folks who put gardens in to get me on the road to growing food. However, after one look at my overgrown and tree shaded yard they declined stating a need to garden where there was a chance of success. I took a look around and realized with some embarrassment that I let everything grow to an unhealthy density. It was as if I let myself become barricaded from the surrounding community. And perhaps that is what I had done.
With the help of family and friends I began clearing out the overgrowth to let in the light. Down came blackberry vines and sucker trees. The Laurel Trees were trimmed back, thinned out and the resulting branches became a nice stash of firewood. With the help of a neighbor who owned a plow I put in a garden. It was thrilling to reap my first garden bounty although compared with what the garden produces today, it was really meager. Now my partner and I have learned to garden through the winter and there is always something to eat. We have planted many perennial food plants and find that we are asked for advice from others who have begun to take transition steps.
Every new step toward change seems huge at the time. I didn't know my neighbors' names. I didn't know how to use a cloche. Neighborhood meetings were a mystery. But now, looking back I know I have come quite a long ways even as looking forward I know there is a long way to go. Tomorrow the world could change. Energy depletion could catch up with our way of life. Cars and trucks could come to a standstill and the grocery shelves could be bare. But more than likely there is still a bit more time to move forward into a new localized existence. It is important to lay the foundations well; to know the people around us; to know how systems work; to be aware of weather patterns and planning meetings and to be intentional about the way we live. There is no way to hurry up the work that needs to get done if we want it to last, even when predictions of peak oil and peak everything cause anxiety or fear. For a new and sustainable future all any of us can do is to continue moving forward slowly and carefully as fast as we can.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Always something new to learn
We are building a new chicken coop. Well, to be honest, my son is building the coop and my partner and I are moving wood from the old wood shed to make room. The new chicken coop will be cozier for the chickens when it is wet which is most of the year, and it will have an attached woodshed to replace the old, leaking one.
We need a new chicken coop because I did not know about the attraction that chicken food is for rats. I thought that a secure, closed shed/coop with chicken wire over the large windows and along the outside walls for a few inches would be enough. But rats are willing to dig down much farther than a few inches in order to access tasty chicken pellets while the hens are sleeping. After a couple of years of chasing rats, covering new holes, pouring patches of cement, and finally covering up all food at night and rising VERY early to put it back out for the ladies, we are ready to build a new coop.
The Brussels Sprouts that overwintered are blooming now and still delicious. We pick the leaves and steam them like any green and pluck off the ready to bloom heads that look like thin broccoli to steam as well. In the past I remember pulling Brussels Sprouts out of the ground at the end of the fall season having no idea that they could over winter or that they would still produce food to eat. What a waste that was!
My oldest granddaughter was over yesterday after school. I fixed her some eggs with some leftover potatoes to eat. I forgot that there were some burdock slices mixed in with the potatoes or I probably would have given her something else since strange new foods can be difficult. When she asked, "Grammy what are these little round slices?" I fully expected her to pick them out. But in spite of her persnickety junior high taste buds she surprised me with "they're good."
My friend, Jan, gave me some horseradish root to plant a couple of years ago when she discovered how much I like horseradish sauce. I lost the plant in the garden the first year as it got mowed down when mistaken for a weed. It came back the next year since horseradish takes some effort to kill but not before I asked my friend for another root. She was surprised since she knew all about horseradish but accommodated my request. Now I have two established roots. I was out looking at the plants today and I thought that another plant had somehow sprouted in the same spot since there is clearly a sprout with buds forming. I didn't know that horse radish produces flowers! Now I am looking forward to what my gardening encyclopedia says will be "large white blooms".
Several years ago my oldest daughter planted Lemon Balm in the garden. Lemon Balm as I discovered, is very prolific. After a few years it became clear that I would have to be very aggressive or nothing else would survive in the herb garden. I have had a running battle trying to keep it under control, often pulling out whole clumps and dumping them in the compost. It just seemed to spring up everywhere. Last week my husband was reading about Lemon Balm in Michael Moore's Medicinal Plants of the Pacific Northwest, Santa Fe, NM; Red Crane Books, 1993, pg 163. I was having a down day and he made me a cup of Lemon Balm tea. It was really pleasant! Seems that while "Lemon Balm is not a potent medicine," it "works predictably, has no side effects, and can be combined with other herbs in a beneficial way. It is a simple sedative and a surprisingly effective mood elevator and antidepressant." There are other uses as well. How did I know? Now I am grateful that the plant survived my ignorance.
Moving toward a renewed, earth based lifestyle can be fear driven or wonder based. Some days feel dark and heavy, especially when news on the environment or economy are particularly bleak. Then I allow myself to brood with my chickens for a little while as I sip Lemon Balm Tea from the garden. Most days I choose to enjoy the adventure of transitioning even if I have no idea where it will take me or the people I love. There is always something new to learn, so many surprises to encounter, that I am constantly amazed and forever grateful for the wonder and goodness of life.
We need a new chicken coop because I did not know about the attraction that chicken food is for rats. I thought that a secure, closed shed/coop with chicken wire over the large windows and along the outside walls for a few inches would be enough. But rats are willing to dig down much farther than a few inches in order to access tasty chicken pellets while the hens are sleeping. After a couple of years of chasing rats, covering new holes, pouring patches of cement, and finally covering up all food at night and rising VERY early to put it back out for the ladies, we are ready to build a new coop.
The Brussels Sprouts that overwintered are blooming now and still delicious. We pick the leaves and steam them like any green and pluck off the ready to bloom heads that look like thin broccoli to steam as well. In the past I remember pulling Brussels Sprouts out of the ground at the end of the fall season having no idea that they could over winter or that they would still produce food to eat. What a waste that was!
My oldest granddaughter was over yesterday after school. I fixed her some eggs with some leftover potatoes to eat. I forgot that there were some burdock slices mixed in with the potatoes or I probably would have given her something else since strange new foods can be difficult. When she asked, "Grammy what are these little round slices?" I fully expected her to pick them out. But in spite of her persnickety junior high taste buds she surprised me with "they're good."
My friend, Jan, gave me some horseradish root to plant a couple of years ago when she discovered how much I like horseradish sauce. I lost the plant in the garden the first year as it got mowed down when mistaken for a weed. It came back the next year since horseradish takes some effort to kill but not before I asked my friend for another root. She was surprised since she knew all about horseradish but accommodated my request. Now I have two established roots. I was out looking at the plants today and I thought that another plant had somehow sprouted in the same spot since there is clearly a sprout with buds forming. I didn't know that horse radish produces flowers! Now I am looking forward to what my gardening encyclopedia says will be "large white blooms".
Several years ago my oldest daughter planted Lemon Balm in the garden. Lemon Balm as I discovered, is very prolific. After a few years it became clear that I would have to be very aggressive or nothing else would survive in the herb garden. I have had a running battle trying to keep it under control, often pulling out whole clumps and dumping them in the compost. It just seemed to spring up everywhere. Last week my husband was reading about Lemon Balm in Michael Moore's Medicinal Plants of the Pacific Northwest, Santa Fe, NM; Red Crane Books, 1993, pg 163. I was having a down day and he made me a cup of Lemon Balm tea. It was really pleasant! Seems that while "Lemon Balm is not a potent medicine," it "works predictably, has no side effects, and can be combined with other herbs in a beneficial way. It is a simple sedative and a surprisingly effective mood elevator and antidepressant." There are other uses as well. How did I know? Now I am grateful that the plant survived my ignorance.
Moving toward a renewed, earth based lifestyle can be fear driven or wonder based. Some days feel dark and heavy, especially when news on the environment or economy are particularly bleak. Then I allow myself to brood with my chickens for a little while as I sip Lemon Balm Tea from the garden. Most days I choose to enjoy the adventure of transitioning even if I have no idea where it will take me or the people I love. There is always something new to learn, so many surprises to encounter, that I am constantly amazed and forever grateful for the wonder and goodness of life.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Equity
I attended a forum on Environmental Justice at the local university last evening. I was invited to participate as a community member. It was refreshing to be with the university students as they considered equity in terms of the environment. Bright students. Thoughtful questions. Some troubling reminders of days gone by.
Environmental Justice = equity = no - racism/no - classism.
It is true that the poor are effected most by environmental degradation. Their neighborhoods are more likely to have inadequate access to healthcare, good food or parks, and at the same time likely to have toxic waste, brown fields, and poor air quality. Race is the single highest determiner of class and class is what forces people into neighborhoods as described above.
We had some serious discussion last night about the need to help the people trapped into a life of poverty and inadequate resources to ensure that they thrive. But just as in the past, it was the white middle-or upper class males who were most likely to believe that they knew how to fix things for everyone. They spoke of going to those neighborhoods to empower the people. They spoke with passion and real desire to make a difference. But their predecessors are the same ones that got us into the predicament we are in today - where affluent mostly white neighborhoods have Whole Foods, New Seasons and Forest Park, and the lower-class, mostly minority neighborhoods have Sue Bee's resale canned goods and an empty lot filled with trash.
As the students spoke of how to get "those people" to care about the environment, I became increasingly distressed. The environmental movement caters to people who can afford to adapt, buy the newest green innovation, and eat only organic local food. But the poor have much to teach. They have been living on a fraction of the money that the upper classes do. They know how to live in less space and can re-use until there is nothing left or go without. In a world that is rapidly changing the poor can be teachers. Yes, the more affluent have something to bring to the table, but they have much to learn first and they have not yet grasped that reality.
Most environmental groups have never stopped to think about equity. They think they know what everyone needs to do and they are ready to expound. But really, who got the world as we know it into the mess it is in? The poor or the affluent? Why on earth should the poor continue to follow the very class of people who messed things up so badly in the first place? In what way have the affluent changed?
Maybe the affluent need people from the other side of town to organize them; teach them how to live simply; show them how to live without a savings account or a car. Teach them to reduce and reuse and where to find the things that are being given away, and where to leave the things that have encumbered their lives. Perhaps the poor would consider empowering the well to do. But then again, why should they?
Equity. How many poor people or people of color are in your Green/environmental group?
Environmental Justice = equity = no - racism/no - classism.
It is true that the poor are effected most by environmental degradation. Their neighborhoods are more likely to have inadequate access to healthcare, good food or parks, and at the same time likely to have toxic waste, brown fields, and poor air quality. Race is the single highest determiner of class and class is what forces people into neighborhoods as described above.
We had some serious discussion last night about the need to help the people trapped into a life of poverty and inadequate resources to ensure that they thrive. But just as in the past, it was the white middle-or upper class males who were most likely to believe that they knew how to fix things for everyone. They spoke of going to those neighborhoods to empower the people. They spoke with passion and real desire to make a difference. But their predecessors are the same ones that got us into the predicament we are in today - where affluent mostly white neighborhoods have Whole Foods, New Seasons and Forest Park, and the lower-class, mostly minority neighborhoods have Sue Bee's resale canned goods and an empty lot filled with trash.
As the students spoke of how to get "those people" to care about the environment, I became increasingly distressed. The environmental movement caters to people who can afford to adapt, buy the newest green innovation, and eat only organic local food. But the poor have much to teach. They have been living on a fraction of the money that the upper classes do. They know how to live in less space and can re-use until there is nothing left or go without. In a world that is rapidly changing the poor can be teachers. Yes, the more affluent have something to bring to the table, but they have much to learn first and they have not yet grasped that reality.
Most environmental groups have never stopped to think about equity. They think they know what everyone needs to do and they are ready to expound. But really, who got the world as we know it into the mess it is in? The poor or the affluent? Why on earth should the poor continue to follow the very class of people who messed things up so badly in the first place? In what way have the affluent changed?
Maybe the affluent need people from the other side of town to organize them; teach them how to live simply; show them how to live without a savings account or a car. Teach them to reduce and reuse and where to find the things that are being given away, and where to leave the things that have encumbered their lives. Perhaps the poor would consider empowering the well to do. But then again, why should they?
Equity. How many poor people or people of color are in your Green/environmental group?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Big Brother
I carry a cell phone now, well actually it is not a cell phone it is a smart phone. At first long ago, or so it seems, I refused a cell phone. I carried a pager. If someone paged and I recognized their number I would call them back from a real phone - one that was grounded and had a cord! Only the people in my family and a few work related people had the number. It worked really well until there were no more pay phones. Someone would page me but there was nowhere to stop and call them! Did you ever think about how phone booths and public phones disappeared? Once there was a phone on just about every corner. When I was a girl my mother always made me carry an extra dime (Yes! A dime!) so I could call home from a phone booth if there was trouble. Then people started carrying cell phones. More and more people started carrying cell phones and the price of a phone call in a public phone began to rise very rapidly. 25 cents/ 50 Cents/ 75 cents/ $1.00. "What!" I shouted out! A dollar for a phone call? The phone companies were not able to support the public phones anymore. No use = no profit. Private companies took them over and the cost continued to climb. And then no one used them and everyone had to have a cell phone.
But it wasn't good enough. The phones were clunky and large and hard to carry around. People left them here and there, maybe had one for emergencies stowed in the car.
So the phones became lighter and smaller and easy to tote. Lots of colors, lots of style, the phone became a fashion statement... but you couldn't get anyone's phone number anymore. With all the new phone companies the central residential phone book became obsolete. Unless someone gave their number to you - or called you (which means someone gave them Your number) you were out of luck.
One day people stopped regularly having a land line. Land Line? Right. Your phone was now a cell phone and what used to be "the phone" was now a land line. Nearly obsolete when no one used it anymore except a few retro people without a cell phone. Without a cell phone? Some people just didn't want to be found at any moment of their day! (Smart people I think.)
It wasn't long before cell phones even with color were passe. I mean really yesterday's item because phones got really Smart. They could take pictures, get on the internet, pick up your email - if anyone was actually emailing anymore, and look stuff up for you faster than your brain could remember trivia.
But what I really want to talk about are Smart phone pictures. The kind the local mayor is gratified to have in order to cut down on graffiti and in order to be thousands of eyes in the city for the mayor. Everywhere people have quality cameras on their phones and with a flick of a finger or two they can take your picture and send that picture round the world, or to the city commissioner -- whether they ask you or not. Believe me. I found myself online. Kinda creepy - like being stalked.
I used to think that Big Brother was coming via cable TV. Then I thought it would be through the computer. Then I thought maybe he was watching through the lap top.
But really, Big Brother is very very Smart.
Smile! You can't do anything without being watched!
Perhaps some ways of connecting are more like an invasion than like community formation.
Maybe the cell phone towers will go down with the grid.
Maybe that won't be so bad.
But it wasn't good enough. The phones were clunky and large and hard to carry around. People left them here and there, maybe had one for emergencies stowed in the car.
So the phones became lighter and smaller and easy to tote. Lots of colors, lots of style, the phone became a fashion statement... but you couldn't get anyone's phone number anymore. With all the new phone companies the central residential phone book became obsolete. Unless someone gave their number to you - or called you (which means someone gave them Your number) you were out of luck.
One day people stopped regularly having a land line. Land Line? Right. Your phone was now a cell phone and what used to be "the phone" was now a land line. Nearly obsolete when no one used it anymore except a few retro people without a cell phone. Without a cell phone? Some people just didn't want to be found at any moment of their day! (Smart people I think.)
It wasn't long before cell phones even with color were passe. I mean really yesterday's item because phones got really Smart. They could take pictures, get on the internet, pick up your email - if anyone was actually emailing anymore, and look stuff up for you faster than your brain could remember trivia.
But what I really want to talk about are Smart phone pictures. The kind the local mayor is gratified to have in order to cut down on graffiti and in order to be thousands of eyes in the city for the mayor. Everywhere people have quality cameras on their phones and with a flick of a finger or two they can take your picture and send that picture round the world, or to the city commissioner -- whether they ask you or not. Believe me. I found myself online. Kinda creepy - like being stalked.
I used to think that Big Brother was coming via cable TV. Then I thought it would be through the computer. Then I thought maybe he was watching through the lap top.
But really, Big Brother is very very Smart.
Smile! You can't do anything without being watched!
Perhaps some ways of connecting are more like an invasion than like community formation.
Maybe the cell phone towers will go down with the grid.
Maybe that won't be so bad.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Down through the ages
Four of my five grandchildren were here today. Two were here very early, early enough that I was not yet awake so they laid down and went to sleep for a few minutes before I woke. My own children would never have done that! It was a treat to have them as they live farther away than the other grandchildren. Spring break gives us an opportunity to get together. An hour or so later another little one came and joined us. My other grandson was at school til later in the day.
Before lunch time I had fixed honey sandwiches, rice cakes with jam, goat cheese and crackers, soy milk, rice milk, whole milk - with a dash of half and half, sliced apples, and probably something else I have forgotten. Growing people, especially those with lots of energy, need lots of nourishment.
We went out together to check on the littlest chickens. We took corn and some cake crumbs as a treat and all the chickens, young and old were thrilled to gobble them down. We checked the water and the food supply at the same time. Growing chickens, especially those that live outdoors, need lots of nourishment too.
After spending time jumping on the trampoline with one of their aunties, the little people came to help me in the garden. We grazed through some of the greens. The little girls were delighted to discover that chick weed is edible and that the sprouting over-wintered Brussels sprouts taste like the raw broccoli they will enjoy later in the summer. We planted some celeriac and broccoli starts and adjusted the cloche since we cannot rely on warmth at night yet before we set off to meet the school bus in a parade of joyful noise.
I love to watch the grandchildren at play, listen to their stories and receive their drawings, flowers or other surprises. They remind me that life goes on, that part of me will go on with them long after I am gone, and that what I do matters; how I encourage them, feed them and how I nourish the relationships we have. Unlike the relationships I built with my children day after day, I don't have lots of time for trial and error with the grandchildren. I don't see them often enough, so every moment counts.
Developing relationships that last is really important to me. It may be the fundamental focus of what I live for. Relationships with my family, with the land, with the creatures that come to be with me for a time, with my community, with the human family, the earth and with the Spirit that connects us all.
When I am sitting outside on my front porch in the sun I feel the warmth that is given to all living things and know our connection. I feel deep inside that what I do to earth and air and water ripples out to all the lives that depend on this planet for life just as I do. I envision us all taking care of one another and living on through one another down through the ages.
Only then can I deal with the news.
Before lunch time I had fixed honey sandwiches, rice cakes with jam, goat cheese and crackers, soy milk, rice milk, whole milk - with a dash of half and half, sliced apples, and probably something else I have forgotten. Growing people, especially those with lots of energy, need lots of nourishment.
We went out together to check on the littlest chickens. We took corn and some cake crumbs as a treat and all the chickens, young and old were thrilled to gobble them down. We checked the water and the food supply at the same time. Growing chickens, especially those that live outdoors, need lots of nourishment too.
After spending time jumping on the trampoline with one of their aunties, the little people came to help me in the garden. We grazed through some of the greens. The little girls were delighted to discover that chick weed is edible and that the sprouting over-wintered Brussels sprouts taste like the raw broccoli they will enjoy later in the summer. We planted some celeriac and broccoli starts and adjusted the cloche since we cannot rely on warmth at night yet before we set off to meet the school bus in a parade of joyful noise.
I love to watch the grandchildren at play, listen to their stories and receive their drawings, flowers or other surprises. They remind me that life goes on, that part of me will go on with them long after I am gone, and that what I do matters; how I encourage them, feed them and how I nourish the relationships we have. Unlike the relationships I built with my children day after day, I don't have lots of time for trial and error with the grandchildren. I don't see them often enough, so every moment counts.
Developing relationships that last is really important to me. It may be the fundamental focus of what I live for. Relationships with my family, with the land, with the creatures that come to be with me for a time, with my community, with the human family, the earth and with the Spirit that connects us all.
When I am sitting outside on my front porch in the sun I feel the warmth that is given to all living things and know our connection. I feel deep inside that what I do to earth and air and water ripples out to all the lives that depend on this planet for life just as I do. I envision us all taking care of one another and living on through one another down through the ages.
Only then can I deal with the news.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Walking
I walked today. I walked to the nearest transit center about a mile from my house and then I walked to an appointment from work and back again. It makes me feel virtuous to walk especially when it is raining, or hailing as it was today on my walk back to my office. I wear a wool cape with a hood when I walk so I don't have to use an umbrella, though sometimes I carry one just in case there is a drenching down pour. This morning I tried to take everything out of my bag that wasn't really necessary since the weight has begun to hurt my shoulder. The boots I was wearing are not really good for long walks so my knee began to hurt after a time as well.
Several years ago I was visiting a friend's family up in the hills of Guatemala. Everyone walked, young and old, elderly and infirm. One day the family had to go into the higher hills to collect firewood. I went with them. The path was steep and it took all my skill to stay upright and a lot of my energy to keep moving so as not to get left behind. I was huffing and puffing by the time we arrived. Around me the women, including ones much older than me, were not only walking easily, they were carrying infants. I had to sit and rest while the women went about picking up sticks and making bundles. There was one man with us and he found a fairly good sized log. It was about 8-9 inches in diameter and about five or six feet long.
When enough fuel was gathered we started down the hill. The women carried stacks of sticks on their heads. The children helped as well. The man carried the log on his back and one of the older boys wanted to carry his load of sticks on his back as well. I just tried to keep my balance. No one complained. Everyone walked.
When I walk to the transit center I walk along a busy highway. Most of the cars going by have a single passenger. Sometimes someone I know drives by and waves or honks their horn. Once a friend said that he always saw me walking and that it was inspiring - a good example. I don't feel like a good example. Most of the time I just feel tired and sore. I am trying very hard to get into shape so I won't be left behind if a day comes when I must rely on walking.
However did people get into such a place where walking which is a natural, healthy and environmentally sound form of transportation feels like work? Or makes us feel virtuous for leaving our cars at home or for getting exercise? Human beings were made to walk. We had nomadic beginnings. We found food and made friends along the way. We got up in the morning and began to walk. We rested when we laid down at night. No one complained. Everyone walked.
Several years ago I was visiting a friend's family up in the hills of Guatemala. Everyone walked, young and old, elderly and infirm. One day the family had to go into the higher hills to collect firewood. I went with them. The path was steep and it took all my skill to stay upright and a lot of my energy to keep moving so as not to get left behind. I was huffing and puffing by the time we arrived. Around me the women, including ones much older than me, were not only walking easily, they were carrying infants. I had to sit and rest while the women went about picking up sticks and making bundles. There was one man with us and he found a fairly good sized log. It was about 8-9 inches in diameter and about five or six feet long.
When enough fuel was gathered we started down the hill. The women carried stacks of sticks on their heads. The children helped as well. The man carried the log on his back and one of the older boys wanted to carry his load of sticks on his back as well. I just tried to keep my balance. No one complained. Everyone walked.
When I walk to the transit center I walk along a busy highway. Most of the cars going by have a single passenger. Sometimes someone I know drives by and waves or honks their horn. Once a friend said that he always saw me walking and that it was inspiring - a good example. I don't feel like a good example. Most of the time I just feel tired and sore. I am trying very hard to get into shape so I won't be left behind if a day comes when I must rely on walking.
However did people get into such a place where walking which is a natural, healthy and environmentally sound form of transportation feels like work? Or makes us feel virtuous for leaving our cars at home or for getting exercise? Human beings were made to walk. We had nomadic beginnings. We found food and made friends along the way. We got up in the morning and began to walk. We rested when we laid down at night. No one complained. Everyone walked.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Memory Loss
When I see my grandchildren with calculators, computers and smart phones I worry that they will not learn how to remember things like multiplication tables, and favorite poems. They are not the only ones at risk though. I went to dinner with family one night and we were talking about favorite movies. A dispute arose around whether or not Paul Newman had been in a particular movie, I don't remember which one, but the dispute was short lived. Within 60 seconds three generations of smart phone users were online digging up the data.
When I was younger I worked for The telephone company (Ma Belle) in directory assistance. I prided myself on how many common numbers I knew from memory. Now, I struggle to remember my sister's number, but it is not simply due to age. She has a home phone and a cell phone and two addresses as well, just like nearly everyone I know. It is too much data to catalog in my brain so I rely on my cell phone to remember for me which means that gradually I know fewer and fewer numbers by memory. Since most people are no longer listed in a central phone book, losing my cell phone would mean losing touch with a number of people I don't see often.
Losing data, and the ability to remember without a techno assist, or worse, never learning to use your memory seems very sad for the human community. Stories and history, genealogies, songs and guiding principles were part of a vast collection of oral knowledge long before we of the present day were born. Yet in a few generations a large chunk of that knowledge could vanish if we lost access to the grid. What used to be stored in human brains is now stored in huge data banks that use an enormous amount of fossil fuel energy to maintain.
Yesterday three pullets came home to the chicken coop: a white leghorn, a spotted Plymouth, and a black sex link by breed. They were promptly named Jackie, April and Rosie. The two elder Australorps, Princess and Persephone, were not really thrilled especially when Jackie began bossing them around. The fence within the coop that was built to keep the new ones safe until they were accepted by their elders proved to be a waste of time since with Jackie's agile instruction, all three were able to fly over it in a matter of hours.
Chickens have been an essential part of human communities for thousands of years. According to Barbara Kilarski in Keep Chickens! Tending Small Flocks in Cities, Suburbs, and Other Small Spaces,(North Adams, MA: Storey Publishing, 2003)today's domestic chickens originated in Southeast Asia about 6,000 - 8,000 years ago, were domesticated in India between 4,000 and 3,000 B.C., and, likely came to America with the first European explorers.(pg. 32-33) Apparently Chicken knowledge within the human family is ancient. Yet I know only what I have picked up in the last three years by trial and error, by reading books and in an emergency, by searching the internet - unless of course my one chicken owning friend is at home. Even then, his knowledge is limited to his own personal trial and error experience.
For generations of explorers, settlers, farmers, and local families who relied on chickens for food and feathers, chicken knowledge was passed on through family and community conversation. Chickens? Everyone had them and knew what to do by osmosis. But I am panicky when Jackie begins chasing her elders. Is Jackie really Jack? Is that why she/he is so aggressive? How ever do I know, and what will happen to her/him if I have to exchange for a certified hen since roosters are not allowed in my part of the civilized world? How do I know when being broody is normal and when does it mean something is wrong? Red spots in the egg yolk? Why did this knowledge drop out of the general population that eats eggs and, gasp, those who eat chicken too?
Of course. That knowledge is no longer necessary for most urban people. But like telephone numbers on the cell phone, a day could come when the knowledge is needed but the information is lost.
My task for today is to memorize a few lines of my favorite Mary Oliver poem, but first I need to go check on April, Rosie, Jackie and their Aunties.
When I was younger I worked for The telephone company (Ma Belle) in directory assistance. I prided myself on how many common numbers I knew from memory. Now, I struggle to remember my sister's number, but it is not simply due to age. She has a home phone and a cell phone and two addresses as well, just like nearly everyone I know. It is too much data to catalog in my brain so I rely on my cell phone to remember for me which means that gradually I know fewer and fewer numbers by memory. Since most people are no longer listed in a central phone book, losing my cell phone would mean losing touch with a number of people I don't see often.
Losing data, and the ability to remember without a techno assist, or worse, never learning to use your memory seems very sad for the human community. Stories and history, genealogies, songs and guiding principles were part of a vast collection of oral knowledge long before we of the present day were born. Yet in a few generations a large chunk of that knowledge could vanish if we lost access to the grid. What used to be stored in human brains is now stored in huge data banks that use an enormous amount of fossil fuel energy to maintain.
Yesterday three pullets came home to the chicken coop: a white leghorn, a spotted Plymouth, and a black sex link by breed. They were promptly named Jackie, April and Rosie. The two elder Australorps, Princess and Persephone, were not really thrilled especially when Jackie began bossing them around. The fence within the coop that was built to keep the new ones safe until they were accepted by their elders proved to be a waste of time since with Jackie's agile instruction, all three were able to fly over it in a matter of hours.
Chickens have been an essential part of human communities for thousands of years. According to Barbara Kilarski in Keep Chickens! Tending Small Flocks in Cities, Suburbs, and Other Small Spaces,(North Adams, MA: Storey Publishing, 2003)today's domestic chickens originated in Southeast Asia about 6,000 - 8,000 years ago, were domesticated in India between 4,000 and 3,000 B.C., and, likely came to America with the first European explorers.(pg. 32-33) Apparently Chicken knowledge within the human family is ancient. Yet I know only what I have picked up in the last three years by trial and error, by reading books and in an emergency, by searching the internet - unless of course my one chicken owning friend is at home. Even then, his knowledge is limited to his own personal trial and error experience.
For generations of explorers, settlers, farmers, and local families who relied on chickens for food and feathers, chicken knowledge was passed on through family and community conversation. Chickens? Everyone had them and knew what to do by osmosis. But I am panicky when Jackie begins chasing her elders. Is Jackie really Jack? Is that why she/he is so aggressive? How ever do I know, and what will happen to her/him if I have to exchange for a certified hen since roosters are not allowed in my part of the civilized world? How do I know when being broody is normal and when does it mean something is wrong? Red spots in the egg yolk? Why did this knowledge drop out of the general population that eats eggs and, gasp, those who eat chicken too?
Of course. That knowledge is no longer necessary for most urban people. But like telephone numbers on the cell phone, a day could come when the knowledge is needed but the information is lost.
My task for today is to memorize a few lines of my favorite Mary Oliver poem, but first I need to go check on April, Rosie, Jackie and their Aunties.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Waiting
I bought some vegetable starts to plant, some kohlrabi, lettuce, beets and broccoli. I am not very good with starting seeds indoors. For one thing, there really is not enough space in the house, and for another, the vegetables that are best started indoors can easily be purchased as starts at the local organic food store. The truth? Buying starts gives me some instant gardening gratification while the seeds I sow outdoors are still germinating.
The art of waiting starting slipping away from me a while back. I got a cell phone and a faster computer and found ever ready excuses for driving instead of taking the bus. I wonder how I ever found the time to wait for a library search of books in order to learn some bit of information. With a swipe of my finger there is more information than I could ever need. The sex of my unborn grandchildren can be known long before they are born. Gone are the days of waiting for a letter to come in the mail.
It is true that waiting is not always an experience that is grace filled. It often comes hand in hand with anxiety, frustration and sometimes, fear. Perhaps that is why waiting is so easily bypassed whenever there is an option.
There are many things to feel anxious about. I don't know how the story will end in Japan. The ongoing wars are frustrating and cause for concern. I don't know when life as it is now known will shift to accommodate climate change, localized economies, and an end to cheap energy. It is possible to conjure up images of a future time that create anxiety, frustration and fear. But living in those images cuts me off from the now that is in the presence of the people and the community that I love.
So I practice the steps needed to be light on my feet, able to flex and move with changes that are as yet unknown. Strengthened by relationships of trust and joy I prepare by re-learning old skills, writing letters, soaking beans, searching the encyclopedia, darning socks, embroidering a little name, sowing seeds. It is not surprising that the old skills take time, time that is readily available when waiting.
The hour that I had to put my newly purchased plants in the ground featured a pretty intense rainstorm followed quickly by nightfall. And then my work week began. The plants are sitting on the back porch now waiting for me. I think I will write a letter.
The art of waiting starting slipping away from me a while back. I got a cell phone and a faster computer and found ever ready excuses for driving instead of taking the bus. I wonder how I ever found the time to wait for a library search of books in order to learn some bit of information. With a swipe of my finger there is more information than I could ever need. The sex of my unborn grandchildren can be known long before they are born. Gone are the days of waiting for a letter to come in the mail.
It is true that waiting is not always an experience that is grace filled. It often comes hand in hand with anxiety, frustration and sometimes, fear. Perhaps that is why waiting is so easily bypassed whenever there is an option.
There are many things to feel anxious about. I don't know how the story will end in Japan. The ongoing wars are frustrating and cause for concern. I don't know when life as it is now known will shift to accommodate climate change, localized economies, and an end to cheap energy. It is possible to conjure up images of a future time that create anxiety, frustration and fear. But living in those images cuts me off from the now that is in the presence of the people and the community that I love.
So I practice the steps needed to be light on my feet, able to flex and move with changes that are as yet unknown. Strengthened by relationships of trust and joy I prepare by re-learning old skills, writing letters, soaking beans, searching the encyclopedia, darning socks, embroidering a little name, sowing seeds. It is not surprising that the old skills take time, time that is readily available when waiting.
The hour that I had to put my newly purchased plants in the ground featured a pretty intense rainstorm followed quickly by nightfall. And then my work week began. The plants are sitting on the back porch now waiting for me. I think I will write a letter.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Connecting with the Earth
I woke up to rain and more rain but as the day went by the breaks between showers began to grow long enough that it seemed like a good idea to venture out. Motivating myself to get out into the yard, into the mud and wet of springtime is not easy after the dulling effect of wintertime gloom, but once I am out there, the freshness of the damp earth and clean air is invigorating.
While the grandchildren jumped on the trampoline I began clearing one of the small spaces of chickweed which had overwintered nicely, and got the soil ready for seeds.
I found a nice fat carrot forgotten from the fall and put it aside for dinner while the chickens stood greedily outside the garden fence hoping I would toss them some roots covered with bugs. The malaise of winter slowly began to seep out of my soul into the earth.
With each seed dropped into the wet earth came thoughts of people in Japan, of farmers whose crops cannot be eaten, of parents worried about how much radiation their children might absorb from the failing reactors, of floodplains covered with death, of springtime ruined by disaster. I thought too, of lands experiencing drought, where the abundance of water that has been falling in this very wet Pacific Northwest Spring would be a cause to celebrate. These thoughts make me grateful for the mud and the fertile ground with its small green sprouts lifting their heads towards the sky in search of sunshine.
After a while, the muddy-wet-joyful venture of digging up burdock roots began under the supervision of chickens looking for tasty worms. My task was to take a few pictures without getting mud on the camera.
Burdock grows in disturbed soil by the side of the road or in places where grandchildren like to dig. It was a surprise to me a few years ago to discover that the same annoying weed that sends out copious burrs to stick to your clothes and tangle your hair is really a biennial plant with a pleasant tasting edible root. Unlike yellow dock and plain old dock which are not edible, the burdock - surely named for its burrs!- is one of creation's gifts for those who hunger for foods that thrive without a lot of care and are as local as that patch of unsupervised ground off the deck. Simmered with potatoes, beets or other root crops it adds a mild but distinctive taste to an at home, from-the-garden-dinner.
There was just enough time to plant kale and lettuce, and to harvest a few roots and greens before the rain started again in earnest. Later the household sat down to a dinner that included from the garden: Brussels sprouts leaves simmered with mustard greens, arugula and sorrel salad, and sliced sunchokes (previously harvested) simmered with local mushrooms, butter and garam marsala spices. The burdock was saved for another day as I like to soak it first to remove all the mud.
I am grateful for the time and space to become more connected to the earth, and for the opportunity to transition from an old way of living that was disconnected from the earth and all living things. It is painful to realize how much damage has occurred while I, and others like me, slumbered. But pain, wisely used, can motivate positive change.
I am awake now, at least most of the time and I offer prayers and send good thoughts to the farmers whose crops cannot be sold, to those whose crops will fail due to drought, to those farmers who cannot afford to buy the seed or the chemicals that will make their crops grow in soil that has been drained of nutrients, and to all whose land will be contaminated for years and years to come.
I also send money via Mercy Corps as it is one way I can share my abundance with those so far away.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Cycles of Life
One of my chickens died.
Each morning I go out and open up the door to their chicken house so that the chickens can spend the day rummaging around in the yard. When the days are long they want to be let out earlier of course. I usually bring them some leftover foods or at least a little corn and toss it out where they can find it easily. On a normal day the chickens will be right inside the door ready to rush out the minute the door is open to search for goodies. Occasionally, one will already be in a nesting box. This time was different.
Two of my Australorp Hens were by the door waiting to be let out but the other was sitting underneath the nesting boxes in the farthest corner. Nonetheless as the first two began their rush out the door, she started out as well and then abruptly sat down about half way across the floor.
I went in to look for eggs and then stopped by the sitting hen and reached down to pet her. Are you okay? I asked before heading back to the house. I made a note to come out in a short while to check on her. When I did, she was dead, having fallen over right where I had last seen her. In the way of creatures in tune to their own bodies and the cycles of nature, she had known that something was coming.
Death is a normal part of the cycle of life. All creatures, all living things, begin and end but in between the beginning and the end, there is life to be lived on this amazing planet, Earth. Facing the reality of death makes me want to live with greater intentionality and care. My focus being not on frantically doing what I can to live as long as I can personally, but rather on enjoying the days and the people and the creatures who are around me, knowing that life is fragile as well as resilient but that everything ends eventually. It is the natural rhythm.
I woke up listening to the news. Drones in Pakistan are creating fear, anxiety, and depression in the people who hear them as well as a growing hate towards those who send them. In Libya missiles are falling in "remote areas" and still there is war in Afghanistan and Iraq and in countless other places in the world which may be remote in distance from where I live, but are not at all remote to the people and the creatures who are there. There is nothing natural about life and death in places where there is war. The cycles are disrupted, torn apart and turned upside down as children die and old people live, as creatures that have no way of sensing what is about to occur die in the midst of their lives.
I woke my husband up and he came out to help me bury the chicken. My grandson came out to pet her before we put her into the ground. I tossed a few treats in and then we closed up the bed we had made for her in the Earth. I cried for a while but the tears were not all for the chicken.
Each morning I go out and open up the door to their chicken house so that the chickens can spend the day rummaging around in the yard. When the days are long they want to be let out earlier of course. I usually bring them some leftover foods or at least a little corn and toss it out where they can find it easily. On a normal day the chickens will be right inside the door ready to rush out the minute the door is open to search for goodies. Occasionally, one will already be in a nesting box. This time was different.
Two of my Australorp Hens were by the door waiting to be let out but the other was sitting underneath the nesting boxes in the farthest corner. Nonetheless as the first two began their rush out the door, she started out as well and then abruptly sat down about half way across the floor.
I went in to look for eggs and then stopped by the sitting hen and reached down to pet her. Are you okay? I asked before heading back to the house. I made a note to come out in a short while to check on her. When I did, she was dead, having fallen over right where I had last seen her. In the way of creatures in tune to their own bodies and the cycles of nature, she had known that something was coming.
Death is a normal part of the cycle of life. All creatures, all living things, begin and end but in between the beginning and the end, there is life to be lived on this amazing planet, Earth. Facing the reality of death makes me want to live with greater intentionality and care. My focus being not on frantically doing what I can to live as long as I can personally, but rather on enjoying the days and the people and the creatures who are around me, knowing that life is fragile as well as resilient but that everything ends eventually. It is the natural rhythm.
I woke up listening to the news. Drones in Pakistan are creating fear, anxiety, and depression in the people who hear them as well as a growing hate towards those who send them. In Libya missiles are falling in "remote areas" and still there is war in Afghanistan and Iraq and in countless other places in the world which may be remote in distance from where I live, but are not at all remote to the people and the creatures who are there. There is nothing natural about life and death in places where there is war. The cycles are disrupted, torn apart and turned upside down as children die and old people live, as creatures that have no way of sensing what is about to occur die in the midst of their lives.
I woke my husband up and he came out to help me bury the chicken. My grandson came out to pet her before we put her into the ground. I tossed a few treats in and then we closed up the bed we had made for her in the Earth. I cried for a while but the tears were not all for the chicken.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
We are capable and we can learn.
When the nuclear reactors began to fail in Japan last week all the old fears that I thought had been long ago purged from my heart and spirit began to surface. Unlike an earthquake or a tsunami or a hurricane or tornado or other natural disasters, nuclear disasters are human made. Although human activity can contribute to natural disasters, human made disasters like nuclear attacks and meltdowns are completely avoidable because humans made them and we don't have to use them. We are capable and we can learn what is dangerous and what is safe.
The power of the nuclear explosions at Hiroshima and Nagasaki should never ever have happened. Yet in the aftermath it seems that those who had created that power could not let go of it. Not only were newer more precise atomic/nuclear weapons created by people in the war industry, but people in the domestic/peace world could not let go either. Surely they dreamed, we could use all that power for peaceful purposes.
I remember standing in my mother's kitchen as she told me about the wonders of nuclear energy. Just a little bit of nuclear energy could power a whole city she explained. That was a dream that others were peddling as they sought to change people's minds about what had happened when nuclear power was unleashed on the world. We humans wanted to believe that creating that powerful source of energy was not a horrible mistake. Using that power, that dreadful, overwhelming, and deadly power for good would justify its creation. And so we were convinced that it was possible.
My mother also taught me not to play with fire, and yet it seems that from those early nuclear days there are some who insist that we should be able to play safely with an energy vastly more dangerous than fire.
My spirit tells me that evil is evil. There are some things that are not worth harnessing. Like a wild beast captured to entertain or to labor for others, powerful energies keep striving to get loose.
Nuclear energy is dangerous. We are unable to keep it captive. That is a lesson we have not yet taken to heart even though the disasters have happened over and over with death and fear and destruction and human and creature death and devastation.
But I believe we are capable and we can learn.
Today I will remember my childhood fears, combine them with the fears of the Japanese people, and use that fear as a reasonable source of energy to keep on simplifying my life.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Japan is heavy on my heart
It is hard to concentrate today. First there was a massive earthquake, then a tsunami and now a nuclear threat.
I had the opportunity to visit in Japan a dozen years ago. I don't know what I expected when I went there, but what I found was a place that reminded me very much of home, of the Pacific Northwest. From the antique wooden furniture in the houses to the majestic mountains and waterfalls that looked like the Columbia River Gorge, I experienced a comfortable familiarity coupled with the distinctively Japanese language and cuisine, paper walls, floor mats and ever so polite and respectful people. My mind keeps going back to their land, to the stresses they have experienced and the traumas yet to come as they bury their people and come to terms with a loss so big it is hard to imagine.
I feel their loss, not as they do certainly, but as a hole in the spirit of the world to which we are all connected.
As the nuclear threat increases voices from the proponents of nuclear energy in the United States are also rising.
"We are not like them." "Our systems are better." "Nuclear energy is the best way to combat Climate Change." "There is no need to be afraid because, we are not like them."
The Japanese people have one of the most technologically advanced societies in the world. I have been there and I know, as do others who have also been there. They are like us. We are like them.
In our day the world is very small. We can hear one another from around the world and watch as destruction overpowers whole cities far away. We cannot change our ways unless we feel their pain and know that it is our pain too. The world is one and we must learn from one another. There is no invisible barrier to protect one people from another. There is no shield to stop the waves or the wind as it moves destruction from one place to another.
Today I feel small and vulnerable. It is hard to concentrate. I believe the spirit is at work.
I had the opportunity to visit in Japan a dozen years ago. I don't know what I expected when I went there, but what I found was a place that reminded me very much of home, of the Pacific Northwest. From the antique wooden furniture in the houses to the majestic mountains and waterfalls that looked like the Columbia River Gorge, I experienced a comfortable familiarity coupled with the distinctively Japanese language and cuisine, paper walls, floor mats and ever so polite and respectful people. My mind keeps going back to their land, to the stresses they have experienced and the traumas yet to come as they bury their people and come to terms with a loss so big it is hard to imagine.
I feel their loss, not as they do certainly, but as a hole in the spirit of the world to which we are all connected.
As the nuclear threat increases voices from the proponents of nuclear energy in the United States are also rising.
"We are not like them." "Our systems are better." "Nuclear energy is the best way to combat Climate Change." "There is no need to be afraid because, we are not like them."
The Japanese people have one of the most technologically advanced societies in the world. I have been there and I know, as do others who have also been there. They are like us. We are like them.
In our day the world is very small. We can hear one another from around the world and watch as destruction overpowers whole cities far away. We cannot change our ways unless we feel their pain and know that it is our pain too. The world is one and we must learn from one another. There is no invisible barrier to protect one people from another. There is no shield to stop the waves or the wind as it moves destruction from one place to another.
Today I feel small and vulnerable. It is hard to concentrate. I believe the spirit is at work.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Bag lady for the earth
A few days ago I had some errands to run and since I try not to drive unless I really really have to, I gathered up some cloth bags and headed out. I had on some comfortable old stay at home clothes and boots because there were lots of puddles on the trail. It was quite a ways to the Good Will store where I hoped to find some picture frames for an art project, but with a break in the northwest rain, a spring-is-coming smell in the air, and a mild temperature, it was a good day to walk. I passed several people walking their dogs or taking a stroll down the old trolley trail but no one I knew, and since I was dressed for comfort not style, that was okay.
After filling up my bags and making a second stop for supplies, I headed home going at a somewhat slower pace now that my bags were heavy. Seeing my reflection in a window that I passed made me smile since I looked very much like a stereotypical bag lady with my boots and long skirt and bags stuffed full of second hand things. I made a note to myself not to start talking to myself lest I really fit the description. This got me to thinking about those pioneering eco-friendly ladies with their well worn shoes and clothes, who used and reused, and carried their goods with them as they traveled on foot or by bus. Yes, I know from my work that many of these ladies suffer from mental or emotional stresses and that they are often lonely having been abandoned by family and friends, but pioneers often suffer in these ways. The example of their ability to set aside concern for appearance, to travel gently on the earth, and to survive with very little has merit.
As I approached a major thoroughfare I encountered a gentleman of the road who smiled broadly as I approached. He was about my age, well over 50, seemed to be a little mentally challenged but he was eager to help me if I needed help crossing the street or carrying my bags. I thanked him but kept on going, noting to myself that my appearance this day connected me to people who were not of my usual crowd. This too got me to thinking until my daughter called me on my cell phone needing to talk. I continued walking while conversing with her using my hands-free Bluetooth gizmo.
Around another block, just before getting back on the trail, a distinguished looking elderly man approached from the opposite direction. He called out to me in a firm voice as he passed, such as I often do with people in my work place who are mentally wandering and need to be called back to reality. I nodded at him but was a little confused by his manner until a few steps down the path. Of course! With my bag lady ensemble and my conversation to someone who was not visible, I had completed the picture. There I was, a bag lady for the Earth.
My appreciation goes to the pioneering eco-friendly fore-mothers who have lived with little and set an example for all. Transitioning to a kinder, gentler way of living requires breaking through stereotypes and learning new ways to be in solidarity with the poor and with the earth.
After filling up my bags and making a second stop for supplies, I headed home going at a somewhat slower pace now that my bags were heavy. Seeing my reflection in a window that I passed made me smile since I looked very much like a stereotypical bag lady with my boots and long skirt and bags stuffed full of second hand things. I made a note to myself not to start talking to myself lest I really fit the description. This got me to thinking about those pioneering eco-friendly ladies with their well worn shoes and clothes, who used and reused, and carried their goods with them as they traveled on foot or by bus. Yes, I know from my work that many of these ladies suffer from mental or emotional stresses and that they are often lonely having been abandoned by family and friends, but pioneers often suffer in these ways. The example of their ability to set aside concern for appearance, to travel gently on the earth, and to survive with very little has merit.
As I approached a major thoroughfare I encountered a gentleman of the road who smiled broadly as I approached. He was about my age, well over 50, seemed to be a little mentally challenged but he was eager to help me if I needed help crossing the street or carrying my bags. I thanked him but kept on going, noting to myself that my appearance this day connected me to people who were not of my usual crowd. This too got me to thinking until my daughter called me on my cell phone needing to talk. I continued walking while conversing with her using my hands-free Bluetooth gizmo.
Around another block, just before getting back on the trail, a distinguished looking elderly man approached from the opposite direction. He called out to me in a firm voice as he passed, such as I often do with people in my work place who are mentally wandering and need to be called back to reality. I nodded at him but was a little confused by his manner until a few steps down the path. Of course! With my bag lady ensemble and my conversation to someone who was not visible, I had completed the picture. There I was, a bag lady for the Earth.
My appreciation goes to the pioneering eco-friendly fore-mothers who have lived with little and set an example for all. Transitioning to a kinder, gentler way of living requires breaking through stereotypes and learning new ways to be in solidarity with the poor and with the earth.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Getting in Touch with Nature
After the short cold egg-less days of winter it is very exciting that my chickens have begun to lay eggs again. March is the beginning of what Jessica Prentiss in her book, Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection, (White River Junction, Vermont: Chelsea Green Publishing, 2006) refers to as Egg Moon since it is the month when hens on old fashioned farms begin to lay again. In modern techno-egg farming, hens are forced to lay all year long under artificial light, and of course their bodies wear out and they stop laying and living much earlier. But in the rhythm of creation, hens are stimulated to lay eggs as the days grow longer.This helps me to understand why Easter and Spring are celebrated with eggs - a connection that is easily missed when we buy our eggs in neat little boxes from the store year around.
Today, I am rejoicing for fresh eggs. And I realize that I need not eat them year round. I can live in tune with the earth.
Happy Egg Moon.
Today, I am rejoicing for fresh eggs. And I realize that I need not eat them year round. I can live in tune with the earth.
Happy Egg Moon.
Changing from the Heart
Welcome to Spirit in Transition!
There is a great deal of information available about green living/carbon footprint reduction/ecopsychology/simple living etc. etc. but the way to transition is not simply through the head, it is through the heart. Spiritual guides, mystics and religious traditions know that deep transformation or conversion takes place under circumstances very different than learning or absorbing knowledge. Knowledge is important, but the task of getting that knowledge from the head to the heart where it can move a person to transition their life, is a work of the Spirit. It takes an environment designed to permit such a movement and a supportive community that will walk with, challenge, and guide those who are on the journey.
In the coming weeks this process will be considered here.
I hope you will join me as we think through this head to heart to real living together. The poor of the Earth and all Creatures are waiting in hope.
V Chapman
There is a great deal of information available about green living/carbon footprint reduction/ecopsychology/simple living etc. etc. but the way to transition is not simply through the head, it is through the heart. Spiritual guides, mystics and religious traditions know that deep transformation or conversion takes place under circumstances very different than learning or absorbing knowledge. Knowledge is important, but the task of getting that knowledge from the head to the heart where it can move a person to transition their life, is a work of the Spirit. It takes an environment designed to permit such a movement and a supportive community that will walk with, challenge, and guide those who are on the journey.
In the coming weeks this process will be considered here.
I hope you will join me as we think through this head to heart to real living together. The poor of the Earth and all Creatures are waiting in hope.
V Chapman
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