water... what are we doing with it?

During the height of the Ethiopian famine, when there were pictures of small children with hunger bloated stomachs, there were thousands of acres of land being used to grow feed for cattle in Asia.
Children starved while land that could have grown food was growing feed for cattle that were eaten by wealthy people half a world away.
I have never gotten over the horrifying pictures and the nonsensical values that were being used to determine the right use of the land.

Now I am horrified again. The pictures of the massive fires and extensive destruction in the American Southwest were heart wrenching this past summer and now I have learned that in the midst of the deserts, in Arizona and California as well, foreign companies have huge acreages of land where they are raising alfalfa to feed dairy cows half a world away. These foreign companies like growing alfalfa in the desert because the growing season is long and there is little chance of rain spoiling the crops. Yet in order to do this, grow alfalfa in the desert, millions of gallons of water must be pumped out of aquifers deep in the earth.

Apparently some of these companies have expertise in sucking deserts dry as they have already done that in their homelands which is why they need to come to the US. The underground aquifers provide water for all vegetation, humans and animals that already live in the region -- but they are not an infinite source. Certainly there is already enough misuse of water by people who decide to live in the desert for the sun but want access to water as if they live in a rain forest - but this is over the top! And where are the laws? They have yet to be drafted to protect water for the eco-sytem, for human and animal life.

Sucking the water out of aquifers under these southwestern deserts will destroy the areas for years to come- maybe forever as far as humans are concerned. Drawing down the water level means that people who currently live there will soon have to re-dig their wells, extending them downward at tremendous cost in order to reach water that is necessary for life. I think it was in the sci-fi movie Oblivion that the aliens were sucking water out of the earth. I wonder if the writers were aware of what is happening?

Just in case it hasn't occurred to you, using extraordinary amounts of water in order to grow and export alfalfa for dairy cows increases the already phenomenal amount of water needed to produce a gallon of milk from 1000 to 2500 gallons for the people who are the consumers of the milk that comes from the cows who will eat this alfalfa. Did you get that? 2500 gallons of water to produce a single gallon of milk. Whatever are these people thinking and who is it that has the kind of money needed along with the desire to do such a thing?

Recently I purchased 'The Sustainability Secret: Rethinking Our Diet to Transform the World." It is written by Kip Andersen and Keegan Kuhn who produced "Cowspiracy" a movie that changed my diet forever. (Published by Earth Aware Editions, San Rafael CA, 12015)  The book expands on the movie and offers updated details. There is a pivotal chapter on water that everyone who needs water to live should read! If I  remember correctly one story in the book tells of a person who didn't think there were large cattle feeding operations in their part of California. They were stunned to learn that
such operations do exist but are deliberately hidden away to avoid interference by humans who might not like what goes on. I wonder how such a person might act knowing about these alfalfa growing operations in the desert... ?

I have heard many times that the next series of wars will no longer be about oil -- they will be about water. If we let corporations, local or international, suck our common aquifers dry we are only bringing on the water wars even sooner. We don't have to drink milk... We Do have to drink water.

All Hallows

It is at this time of year, when the harvest is done and the earth is ready to rest, that we ponder the death of those we have loved. On November 1st many Christians celebrated All Saints Day. It is a day to reflect on those who have gone before us, especially those people who have had a positive impact on our lives. 
Remembering and honoring the dead is an ancient human tradition.

Halloween is now considered a children’s holiday but it had its origin among the pre- Christian Celtic peoples who celebrated the festival of Samhain on this date. It was for them both the beginning of the year and the beginning of winter. The harvest was finished and foods were preserved and stored away to be used during the cold time of year. It was also the time to bring domestic animals back from the summer pastures and make ready for the winter months. Samhain marked the end of one cycle of seasons and the beginning of a new cycle in the never ending cycles of birth and death.

People believed that during Samhain the ghosts of the dead were able to mingle with the living because it was the time when the souls of those who had died during the year traveled into the next world. On the evening before, people lit bonfires to assist the dead on their journey and they also offered gifts of food, fruits, and vegetables.

The early Christian missionaries in their zeal tried to eliminate the holiday but they only drove it underground. Much later All Souls day was instituted on the day after All  Saints in order to acknowledge what the people already celebrated and to honor the dead including those not known to be saints. It was at this time that the ghosts wandering on the evening before All Saints were declared to be evil and stories of ghosts and fear were spread.

Honoring the dead is part of many other cultures as well. After the conquest of Mexico the traditional month long Aztec festival that honored the dead was moved to coincide with All Saints and All Souls days. On All Souls, (Dia de los Muertos) family members and friends travel to cemeteries to be with the souls of the deceased and to honor them with remembrance and the use of decorated altars, food, and beverages. Pictures of the dead and other belongings or items from the past are part of the display. Family and friends tell stories of the deceased to encourage them to visit.

Although most Christians profess belief in the communion of Saints, in resurrection and life beyond, they often react to death as if it is the end. With  scientific minds the idea of such visits from the dead are dismissed even though there are many people who do have such encounters. Most people are reluctant to talk about their experiences because they are afraid that they or their stories will be discounted.

I feel blessed that my mother came to me in a dream last week. It was an extraordinary occurrence for me and it generated a great sigh of relief deep in my heart. As her guardian I had to make the call about going back to the hospital or another round of antibiotics and though I acted with confidence (and consultation with siblings and doctors) … I had some lingering doubts about making the right choices. When I saw her healthy appearance in the dream, a normal weight, ability to walk and to be herself as I knew her, those doubts faded away. 
You can say it was only a brief moment in a dream – but for me it was reassuring and will have lasting significance. Experiences of a divine nature can always be dismissed, but those who have the experience are changed.

On All Saints Day we bring out pictures of deceased loved ones. We tell their stories. Some of us even call upon them for prayers on our behalf. We do this so that we can make manifest the connections that remain between those who have died and those still living.   
Death is a powerful mystery. 

May you too be comforted and reassured, by the after death experience of those you love.      

     

Best Wishes to Yong

Tomorrow is the last day to buy coffee from Yong at Fritz Avani Coffee.
The building at 811 SW 6th Avenue is being remodeled and when the building is all new and shiny there will no longer be a space for the coffee shop.
 Every other week I go downtown to buy bus tickets for people who are in need of them. I have a pattern. I rode the bus until the new Orange Line opened, and now I ride the Max down to Pioneer Square. I buy my tickets from the lady at the far end of the counter who always keeps a small fan by her station. And then I go buy coffee from Yong before getting on the bus to work.
If you go often enough on a regular pattern, then people notice and begin to expect you or recognize when your routine has changed. For a while I always bought a soy chai latte and then I switched to a soy latte. Yong noticed. She was happy I was buying coffee because as she told me, her coffee was good. On one visit she asked my name and from that moment on she greeted me by name. It made me feel good to be recognized and she liked knowing almost before I did what I would order that day. Over time she asked other questions so she knew where I worked and a little about what I did and she shared a bit of herself with me as well.
When you are buying coffee in the morning you can't talk too long or you irritate the people who might be waiting or miss the bus that you need to catch. It takes a long time to learn a little bit when you see someone twice a month and no more, and for only the time it takes to make a coffee.
A couple of months ago Yong told me that the building was being remodeled and that space for her coffee shop would no longer be available in the new design. Her lease would end on the last day of October. She was sad. I was sad. She wasn't sure what she would do. She liked her coffee shop. I liked her coffee shop.
Steadily weeks went by and the time for the end came closer. I felt I had to add in an extra trip downtown, to see her an extra time before she was gone. I bought some bus tickets for my husband a little earlier than I needed to and the monthly pass for myself as well. When I went to buy the tickets the lady at the end with the fan was busy which happens from time to time. I bought my tickets from the man at the other end. I am always asked for ID as if my name suddenly won't match my debit card. I always get it out. I have always felt like an anonymous person.
Then I went for coffee. Yong was not at her coffee shop. I waited and waited determined that I would see her this extra time before the last one. After a bit she arrived along with a whole crowd of people who were also entering the building.
"We had a fire drill" she said and then asked me if  had been waiting long. Only a few minutes I said but she insisted the coffee would be free for the wait. I thanked her profusely after saying there was no need for free coffee. Her generosity could not be deterred. Then I rushed to the bus since I was a little later than usual. 
And then the last week arrived. I went downtown on Wednesday. Knowing it would be the last time I would make it to see her before she closed. It was my regular week for buying packets of tickets. I went to the lady at the end and she smiled and said, "You were here last week too?" I explained that I had come for tickets for my husband then I added that I wanted to see the lady at the coffee place around the corner before it closed. The lady engaged in conversation lamenting the demise of so many small businesses and asked if I knew what the coffee lady was going to do and I did so we chatted briefly and she hardly looked at my ID at all and then I knew. Checking ID was really a required part of her job, no exceptions just in case someone really was using someone else's card -- but she knew me too just like Yong at the coffee place.
I bought my last coffee at Fritz Avani. I went into the building instead of standing outside at the little window. It just seemed fitting somehow. I had a little card for her to thank her for the bright spot she had provided in my weeks. I handed her my punch card and asked her to write down her name since I am only guessing at the spelling. She asked if I had a business card and told me she would email me. I did have a card. She smiled and then came around the counter to give me a hug.
There are many service jobs in our city. People who take money, take a required look at ID, punch our "get one free" cards, notice our routines and maybe ask how we are doing. Some people go about their work determined to just get through the day hardly looking at the people they serve. Others offer the gift of kindness, a smile, or recognition. Their tasks may seem insignificant on a grand scale but are very important in other ways. The manner with which they serve can make or break our days.
I try hard to remember the names of those whose jobs are an important part of my day. I try to be fully present, (not on the phone or lost in thought) and remember to offer a smile, wait courteously, over look small errors, and be polite to those who serve. 
I will miss Yong. I will her smile of recognition and the way she made me feel important. I am sure there are others who feel the same.  
And I am glad the lady with the fan knows who I am. She is part of my life too.
We are all connected. 

My Mother dropped by last night.

I am not much of a dreamer although at different moments in my life I have had some fairly profound dreams. I once took a spirituality class that addressed dreams. One point that I learned was that if I wanted to remember my dreams, I had to work at it. That usually involves putting paper and pencil close enough to reach immediately upon waking so that any dreams can be recorded right away before they are forgotten. I have used this practice so I know that it does work, but it takes effort and months, even years can go by when I am too tired to work at it.

That doesn't mean I never dream. I do have dreams and sometimes they wake me up and once in a while they are so profound I remember them without writing. But in my family it was always my mother or my sister who had the really impressive dreams, like dreams of conversations or visits with people who had died. Not me. In fact I have felt more than a few moments of envy for their ability to be in touch with the dreamworld.

But last night my mother dropped by.

I have been at peace with my mother's death. I don't have regrets that keep me awake at night and I long ago grieved the loss of her ability to communicate and to recognize people or remember visits, so her death was a peaceful end to a long period where she seemed to be living a half life. Nonetheless, she is gone and I have pondered her absence from this world.


I was in a room with another person and decided to go upstairs. Upstairs there were three rooms that opened from one into another through doors that were lined up. I sat on a couch in the first room facing the wall across the room and the door that led to the next room. There was a little sliding door - like an air vent but maybe six or seven inches high - that was above the main door. As I sat the little door slid open a few inches and a paper puppet popped through. It made me laugh and I wondered who had gone upstairs before me, who was working the little puppet. At that moment my mother walked around the corner and into the room. She looked as I remembered her from some years past, healthier with a normal weight as she used to have. I was delighted to see her even though I was completely aware that she had died. I also knew that she had been the one to open the little door and pop the puppet through, just as I immediately knew that she had done so to make me laugh so I wouldn't be afraid or startled by her presence. 


That's all really. I don't remember if she said anything. The important thing was that she was healthy, walking and was taking time to drop in on me. In the dream, after my mother was gone,  I told another person that I had seen her and I emphasized that she had really been there - that it wasn't a dream. There was another message but it is personal. I need to keep it as my own. But the visit was sweet and very comforting.


Keep your heart open when your loved ones pass from this world to the next. The doorways are less substantial than expected.  

I am pleased that my mother dropped by last night.  

Yes. Everything is connected.

I just finished reading most of T. Colin Campbell's book Whole: Rethinking the Science of Nutrition. (Dallas TX: BenBella Books, 2013) T. Colin Campbell, PhD. was the co author of The China Study - another important book to read.
I will try to get through the third section of the book with more than a cursory reading, but I get awfully unhappy when reading yet again about profits that can shut down prophets. Money (or better qualified, the love of money) really is the root of all evil. Even in the face of enormous evidence to the contrary, systems that thrive on money will continue to provide the same misleading or just plain wrong information to an unsuspecting populace -- if upsetting the system will decrease profits for those who benefit from maintaining the status quo. How sad! How frustrating!

Here we go. Animal products are bad for your health. Vitamin supplements cannot replace whole foods. Foods cannot be reduced to individual nutrients. Your body is a system that cannot be reduced to parts. What you eat has a far greater impact on your health than your genetic predisposition. Everything is connected. The interactions, and reactions of foods that you take in to your body with your intricately fashioned bodily systems is much more sophisticated and complex than today's health care advocates are able to accept. A pill will not cure all of anything. More pills are less likely to cure a disease. Until medical science puts a priority on prevention, people will keep getting sick, while doctors and hospitals get paid, medical insurers make decisions irregardless of patient needs, pharmaceutical companies get richer, and medical research continues to be funded by those who make the biggest profit on illness and disease. However did this system arise and why in the world do we keep it in place?

Every year there is a race or two for the cure of some disease or chronic ailment, heart disease, diabetes, cancer etc. I have for sometime refused to participate until some group wants to sponsor a run for the Prevention. Cures take place after a person is already sick. Prevention stops the development of disease. I once read that there is no money in prevention which is the reason most people interested in health care go into medical practice or related areas rather than public health. It makes sense when I think about it. If you discover a means for prevention, you can eradicate the disease. The End. If you find a cure you can keep on selling it to those who get sick and as long as people keep getting the disease you can cure it. If the disease is eradicated from the public the money stream is gone. Think about it. Some cancer medications cost thousands of dollars per pill and treatments that involve radiation and surgery are even more lucrative.

So I will stop ranting at this point. I just want to make a few last comments about the way people eat. The Standard American Diet (SAD) really is sad and it fosters a climate for illness rather than health for many millions of people. People believe they are doing the right things for their families and themselves when they follow the dietary guidelines given to them by their doctors or taught in school, but the sad truth is that the guidelines are faulty. Not only are we harming our collective bodies, we are damaging the earth, and harming untold millions of animals raised solely for the purpose of providing food. The earth, the animals, the climate and all the poor around the world would benefit if people would stop eating animals and animal products like dairy and eggs.

For breakfast today I had a nice bowl of Tasty Cereal (Bob's Red Mill/gluten free multi grain) with a dash of soy milk, raisins, walnuts, flax seed meal and applesauce. It was yummy and filling. A plant based diet is healthy and satisfying.

 
   

Thoughts on my mother's death

For my mother's funeral I chose a reading from the Wisdom of Sirach, also known as the Book of Ecclesiasticus. The verses are printed below (3:1-15)

My children, listen to your parents: do what we say and you will live— For God gives a father honor over his daughters and sons, and upholds a mother’s authority over her children. Respect your father, and you atone for sin; Revere your mother, and you accrue great wealth. Children are the reward for those who respect their parents, and their prayers will always be heard. Those who esteem their father will be long-lived; those who comfort their mother are obeying God. Those who fear God honor their parents, and give them the respect one would a sovereign. Honor your parents in word and deed, and their blessing will come upon you. For a parent’s blessing gives a family deep roots, but their curse rips up its foundation. Don’t seek glory at the expense of your parents. How can their loss of face glorify you? If your parents are honored, you receive the glory; if your parents are shamed, you receive the denigration. My children, care for your parents in their later years; don’t do anything to give them grief while they are alive. Make allowances for their feebleness in age; don’t despise them because you’re in the prime of life. For kindness to your parents will never be forgotten, and it will make reparation for your sins; In time of trouble, it will be remembered to your advantage, and your sins will melt away like frost in sunshine.

 

  For me, it is a reading that speaks to the last years of my mother’s life, years that were very difficult for her and for those who loved her.  It was painful to see Mom, a woman who had been so elegant, gradually unable to care for herself, until eventually she needed more care than the family could provide in her own home. A series of strokes gradually took away her ability to remember and to speak more than a word or two-- and Mom was a person who liked to talk, liked a good debate and enjoyed teaching -- so losing her ability to communicate was very frustrating. She loved to dance so the loss of mobility was heart wrenching, and when her arthritic fingers prevented her from sketching even the whimsical paper dolls she used to make for the children it was very sad. 
  Each time a care decision had to be made it was agonizing because Mom never wrote down any of her own wishes, instead leaving her adult children to figure things out. Like a puzzle we attempted to put all the pieces together even as Mom was gradually becoming someone different. We remain very grateful that Mom was charming and gracious even when she wasn’t sure who we were.

   Our goal was always to honor our mother’s life and dignity, to take into account the way she lived and the way she taught by example. And there were a number of examples. Mom took care of her own mother as long as she could, placing her mother in a care center only when the doctor insisted because the 24 hour care that was needed was beyond mom’s ability, and then Mom went regularly to the care center to visit her mother. 
   Later, when Mom was in her 70’s she took care of her aunt who was in her 90's. Mom would drive across town sometimes twice a day, trying to manage her aunt’s housekeeping, personal care and finances while seeing to her own household as well. It was a labor of love that Mom saw as her responsibility. It was a way of honoring her aunt, her father’s sister, and also for Mom, I think, a way to honor her father who had died quite young. By example, Mom taught her children even as we were beginning to detect signs of Mom’s own declining health.  
  We were fortunate that Mom was able to stay in her own home longer than might have been expected because our youngest brother was able to live with her. When it was clear that she needed more care than one person could give, we moved her to a memory care home, where she lived for another five years.
  They were not easy years as the people around her who became friends slipped away one after another, but she had round the clock care by kind and gentle people. And each of her children - in our own individual way - did what we could for our mother. We almost never crossed paths in the care center as we have such different lives and schedules, but because of that, she had family with her much more often than some of the other residents. Each of us connected with Mom in our own way, and each of us will miss some of the other residents we came to know through our visits with Mom.  
   Sometimes Mom would be pampered with a manicure, new hairdo and makeup while listening to great music, or she would be taken for walks through the neighborhood, listen to poetry and share a meal, or she would stay up late watching Dancing with the Stars, movies, or a rousing football game – all depending on who was there to see her. From out of state her other son made sure that bills were paid, property was cared for and that mom received lovely gifts or surprise visits whenever possible.
   And the grandchildren (and older great grandchildren), also honored their grandmother with cards, photographs and visits, and by comforting their own parents as we watched our mother age. All of this I think is what the writer of Sirach was addressing when he said, "Honor your parents in word and deed, and their blessing will come upon you." 

  I am at peace with my mother's death. I have no major regrets about what I could have done differently. She died in the bed that had been hers for a number of years. She was tended to by hospice workers that understood natural death and she did not have to endure a prolonged hospital death. 
  I am content that her children were able to care for her, that she was never left alone and that the example she gave has been passed to the next generation. 

  Thanks for letting me share this with you.

(My mom at about 16 years old with her parents - my maternal grandparents!)  

away with cars- A Shout out for Public Transit

  I am going to sound a little bit like an advertisement so let me make this disclaimer right up front: I do not work for TriMet, or Metro or any related company. I did however work on a citizens' advisory committee for the new Orange Line of the light rail. Now, with that out of the way I just want to write about how much the new Orange Line has added to the enjoyment of my days!
  I used to take the #33 bus to the downtown Milwaukie Transit Center where I would wait for the #70 bus which I would then take into work. Between waiting and riding the trip would take anywhere from 40 to 50 minutes -- more if the Union Pacific Train was blocking the route at 12th and Clinton. Now I walk to the Max Stop at Park Avenue, get on a comfortable light rail train and within less time than it used to take me to get from my house into downtown Milwaukie I find myself at the Clinton Street stop. Then I can catch a #70 bus a block or two away or more likely just walk on into work. The route takes about 23 minutes but I feel very energized by the time I walk into my office. And the best part is that even with the walk, I find I am getting to work in much less time with a great deal more comfort.
 I don't use the light rail just for getting to and from work. Since it is a very pleasant ride I like to hop on whenever possible. Last week I took a 30 minute jog from my house into downtown Milwaukie where I bought a soy latte at The Painted Lady Coffee Shop before catching the light rail back home. On another day I took two of my grandchildren on the light rail to the Johnson Creek Nature area where we read all the signs and tried to spot some fish in the creek before the four year old began to lose interest. Then we hopped on the light rail going back into Milwaukie and went to the Painted Lady for chocolate, a short game of chess, and then back on the light rail home. In the process I am teaching my 11 year old grandson how to use the Max; how to buy tickets, validate them and have them close at hand to show to transit inspectors if they happen to come by (which has happened several times!)
  There was also a day last week when I was feeling down after my mom's funeral and I just wanted to get out and move around. In the very old days I might have jumped in a car and taken a long soothing drive - but I have too much awareness of Climate Change and Carbon Emissions to take a long ride in any car these days. It was a good moment for my husband and I to get on the light rail train together and ride into downtown Portland and over the bridge before stepping off and getting on a home bound light rail train. The ride was quiet and soothing just as I had hoped.
  Yes, I have been taking mass transit for enough years by choice to know that there can be unpleasant moments caused by unhappy or disrespectful fellow riders, but these are generally few and far between. I find that more people on the light rail so far have been enjoying the ride - looking out the windows and chatting with others - as opposed to plugging into some device and ignoring everything and everyone. And sure, the novelty may wear off at some point, but for now, I intend to enjoy the fruit of many years of community labor and have a good time riding on the Orange Line.
  I hope you have pleasant public transit in your city!

                                      Looking up through the Park Street Station Art work..