This poem is a companion to the blog entry right below this titled "State of Fear." I suggest that you read it first in order to receive the full resonance of the poem.
My Greatest Fear is Love
Nicole jumped ship two days ago,
baring her breasts from the top deck of the ferry
while we bobbed in her wake, hoping the police
would be too busy birdwatching to notice
her nipples, whipped stiff by the wind which
carried a shearwater right into view of their binoculars,
both eyes trained on the flight of a fugitive
searching for a steep precipice on which to cling.
They could have had her arrested for indecent exposure,
but just at the very moment her nipples hove in to sight,
a scourge of cockroaches caught their eyes,
scuttling out of the hold as the bilge
pumped the lower deck clean.
The lower deck has been scrubbed and hosed so many times
it forgets what it feels to be dirty,
and no longer appreciates
what it means to live clean.
I’m afraid I’ll drink a beer tonight because today
I ate corned beef on rye.
I’m a vegetarian, in case you’re wondering,
which doesn’t mean I don't still crave red meat--not raw,
but rare, which means sometimes
slightly bleeding.
What is it about the daily grind that makes me
gnash my teeth and bury my head
under a pillow of plucked geese?
I hope some of them lived to fly out of the factory,
otherwise my dreams are destined to flop at my feet.
My feet are tough as hooves from
scampering over rocks on the beach.
I wish I would dream of galloping hooves on a purple highway.
I could follow them west on any given day,
but that would be giving into my compulsion to escape,
when instinct tells me the only way to expand my reach
is to stand in place, waving as the last ferry leaves,
ocasionally rewarded with the sight of a shearwater,
or two pink nipples whipped by the cold wind
for their boldness at exposing themselves in a public place.
When I first fell in love, I learned that pleasure
means nothing without pain.
Over the years, I’ve pushed my lovers away,
even though it looked like they left me.
My heart is like the pieces of broken china
I’ve collected on the beach.
I’ve always thought it best not to ask for anything,
but the pain on the left side of my neck exhorts me, receive.
If I walk every day, I might find enough fragments
to reassemble an entire plate on which to serve
the remains of the skate I stole from the gulls,
because I wanted to see them as hungry as me.
Nicole threw rocks at me so my mortar would break.
I would have offered her my roots, but the tide swept them away.
All matter of things shall be well, Julian of Norwich proclaimed.
She was an anchoress, which means she chose to stay in place and pray.
They put food and water in the window of her cell
attached to the village church,
so she wouldn’t have to leave.
Some people called her crazy, some people called her a saint.
A cell is where bees make honey,
as well as a place where body and spirit are chained.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
State of Fear
Are you afraid, someone asked me in the past couple of days after reading these blog entries. Of course I'm afraid--and I will delve into the reasons for my fear later in this post, but right now I want to go back to the Michael Crichton book my Uncle Herman mentioned to me earlier this week, as I know a little bit more about it now.
The book is called State of Fear. Its premise is that people in positions of power use fear to keep their suboordinates in line. I won't disagree with that. I see this everyday, even in simple situations like your average job, where the boss has to keep her workers in line by fear. I'm sure there are people who enjoy their jobs, but even if you do, you'll have to admit there are sometimes you just don't want to do what the boss wants you to, and that you have internalized an invisible line you know you can't cross without getting fired. If you're afraid you'll lose your job if you don't do what the boss wants you to, then you are being controlled, part of a hierarchical system that sees your needs as suboordinate to the needs of the workplace. Sometimes this isn't so difficult to tolerate, but sometimes it is, if you find yourself doing something that violates your ethics, or even just your spirit, that wants the freedom to express itself more creatively. I have definitely internalized this fear of authority in the workplace, and this fear has kept me from becoming who I feel I am meant to be. I have fit myself into many boxes that weren't me because I am/was afraid that I wouldn't be able to support myself, or ashamed that I couldn't, also afraid of being judged by people who I loved who fully believe that the hierarchical system of organization is ok.
I don't want to judge those who believe in our governing system, although I'll admit that my own experience of being judged, which has made me feel unloved, has led me into counter-attacks in which I do make judgments. My brother pointed this out in a reply to one of my blogs where he felt I was being condescending towards drunks, and I am glad he did so. By holding up a mirror for me, he was able to make me look at why I was dismissing people who drink--because I was a drunk too. By condemning drunks, I was feeding the shame I felt about being an alcoholic, and was able to see that I have not fully forgiven myself for what I perceive, on one level, as a weakness. By attacking others, I attack a part of myself I don't feel good about. I have many judgmental thoughts all day long. It is very hard not to, because I think these thoughts come to us to teach us lessons about ourselves. They are messages from our psyche that point out what we are afraid of. They are the places where we need to heal by accepting ourselves. In my case, this is often a fear that people won't like me--which on a deeper level is a fear of love, or the lack of it. Yes, my greatest fear is love. If you feel like you want to write back to me right now about what I should do to get over this fear, go ahead. I want to have a mirror held up so I can see my face reflected in your pupils. I only ask that you in turn hold the mirror up to your face and see what your desire to tell me what to do says about your own fears. The more I do this, the more I am able to see how connected everything is--which helps me let go of feelings of separation. This is a diary. I am doing my best not to hide my faults from you because I want us all to see these connections. My imperfections are a string I can follow back to the source of my fear, by showing them to you, I hope to give you the opportunity to do the same.
In the meantime, we have Michael Crichton writing about the state of fear--although I'm puzzled about his use of the double entendre in the word state, because in his book of the same name he seems to be working in collusion with the state to create the very fear he claims to be dissecting. State of Fear is about a group of eco-terrorists who create natural disasters in order to terrify the public that global warming is happening, when scientific evidence proves that it is a hoax. Although he claims this is a novel, he states that the footnotes to the book are based on actual scientific studies, so he is obviously deeply invested in his fictive opinions. The motive of the fear-creators in his novel is to raise money for his fictive environmental organization, who supposedly doesn't care anymore about the environment,but has become corrupted like any other organization with power.
Why Crichton would pick an environmental organization instead of our government, who is using the war on terrorism to do this in such a blatant way, doesn't just make me outraged, it makes me question his intentions to such an extent that I wonder if he got kickbacks from Cointelpro (yes they do still exist--the FBI's counterintelligence program). A couple of times since I got back from earth activist training people have joked to me "so what have you been up to lately besides eco-terrorism?" I laughed it off, because I knew it was meant as a good-natured joke, but after reading the review of the Crichton book I started wondering who came up with the word ecoterrorist in the first place. I am aware that there are some people who have vandalized property in the name of the environment, but I am not aware of anyone who has been blown up an entire building of innocent people in the name of forest defense, or hijacked a plane. By using the word terrorist to describe these acts of vandalism, the right is equating them with the people who have perpetrated these atrocious acts. As far as I know, far more activists are dedicated to non-violent means of resistance, because they are aware that if they adopt the methods of the oppressor, then they will ultimately become like the oppressor. I remember when political correctness was all the furor, and I'll admit that a lot of the new ways used to describe people were/are funny (meaning awkward, meaning what we really feel is uncomfortable with ourselves)-- but at the heart of the movement was a genuine desire to find words that enabled people to break free from labels that degraded or limited them in some way. The campaign by the conservative right to lampoon political correctness was an attempt to defuse the potential for people to break out of their assigned boxes. We may think it's funny, but it's a genuine threat to the powers that be. Therefore, I take offense to the word ecoterrorist. I'm not mad at the person who called me this, who is genuinely good-hearted, it just makes me realize how organized and intelligent and organized the right is in their campaign to discredit the environmental movement that they can make something so offensive seem like an innocent humorous comment, and when I follow this reaction, I rejoice, because it shows how afraid they are of us in the first place.
So afraid that they are the ones employing terrorist methods. Some of you may be aware of the case of Judi Bari and Darryl Cheney, two Earth First! activists involved in forest defense in California. On May 24, 1990, in Oakland, CA, a bomb exploded in their car. Cheney was injured, but Bari almost died. When she woke up in the hospital after the explosion, doctors told her she would never walk again. (She is now able to walk again.) She also found out the FBI was accusing her of blowing herself up--that she was transporting a bomb that was going to be used in an act of ecoterrorism by Earth First! The charges were dropped due to lack of evidence, but Bari pursued a case against her accusers in which she was able to prove that the FBI had actually planted the bomb in her car in order to discredit her and her cause. The FBI are the terrorists here, not Judi Bari and Darryl Cheney. Bari and Cheney had received numerouns death threats which the FBI did not investigate. Bari was also able to uncover that the FBI agents assigned to her case had links to COINTELPRO and the Big Timber interests who were opposed to her. For those of you who don't know, COINTELPRO, was the organization assigned to take down The Black Panthers and The American Indian Movement. The FBI claimed the branch was defunct, but Bari and Cheney were able to prove that COINTELPRO was assigned to take down Earth First! as well. And guess what? She won a 4.4 million dollar case agains the FBI, which in my eyes, proves that the checks and balances written into the Constitution, in some cases, are still working.
Why was the FBI afraid of folksinger Judi Bari? Why did they feel the need to brand her an ecoterrorist? I find it astonishing that there are people who care about money so much that they would be willing to chop down old growth redwood trees, but maybe they've never walked among them. Maybe they're afraid of what lives in the forest. Lions and tigers and bears, right?If there is one thing we humans have proved during our tenure on earth so far, is that we are extremely creative, so creative that we have managed to completely dominate our environment--not the environment. Ours, because it is something we share with every plant, animal, rock, piece of garbage, and nuclear warhead, on the earth. If we stopped calling it the and started calling it our maybe we would strop trying to dominate it! Again, choice of words is so important. I catch myself choosing the wrong words so many times every day, and am glad to have the opportunity to get feedback from people on this blog as if points out to me how imprecise my thinking is so often, and how I must never assume that people know what I am thinking when I have been sloppy or vague.
It is my belief that the people who control our country, and the people in control in many countries around the earth (who come together under the auspices of the World Trade Organization) don't want us to realizes is that we are not just extremely creative, we are infinitely creative, and because of that we have nothing to fear. If we don't cut those forests down people will starve they say, and that might be the case if humans don't use their creative powers to create a world in which no one goes hungry for lack of money. These fear-mongers are giving us an incredible opportunity--by standing up for the earth we open the door to uncovering our fears, and theirs as well. They are giving us the opportunity to recognize that we create the reality we live in. If we choose fear, we will live in a world defined by lack, if we choose to believe that there is enough for everyone, our world will reflect this back to us. Remember, the monster in the middle of the Labyrinth is afraid too. When you make it to the center offer to let him hold onto your string and lead him out. Like the spider, everything we need is inside of us. Every choice we make, every thought, every judgment, effects the web that we weave. What word do you want woven in the center of your web?
The book is called State of Fear. Its premise is that people in positions of power use fear to keep their suboordinates in line. I won't disagree with that. I see this everyday, even in simple situations like your average job, where the boss has to keep her workers in line by fear. I'm sure there are people who enjoy their jobs, but even if you do, you'll have to admit there are sometimes you just don't want to do what the boss wants you to, and that you have internalized an invisible line you know you can't cross without getting fired. If you're afraid you'll lose your job if you don't do what the boss wants you to, then you are being controlled, part of a hierarchical system that sees your needs as suboordinate to the needs of the workplace. Sometimes this isn't so difficult to tolerate, but sometimes it is, if you find yourself doing something that violates your ethics, or even just your spirit, that wants the freedom to express itself more creatively. I have definitely internalized this fear of authority in the workplace, and this fear has kept me from becoming who I feel I am meant to be. I have fit myself into many boxes that weren't me because I am/was afraid that I wouldn't be able to support myself, or ashamed that I couldn't, also afraid of being judged by people who I loved who fully believe that the hierarchical system of organization is ok.
I don't want to judge those who believe in our governing system, although I'll admit that my own experience of being judged, which has made me feel unloved, has led me into counter-attacks in which I do make judgments. My brother pointed this out in a reply to one of my blogs where he felt I was being condescending towards drunks, and I am glad he did so. By holding up a mirror for me, he was able to make me look at why I was dismissing people who drink--because I was a drunk too. By condemning drunks, I was feeding the shame I felt about being an alcoholic, and was able to see that I have not fully forgiven myself for what I perceive, on one level, as a weakness. By attacking others, I attack a part of myself I don't feel good about. I have many judgmental thoughts all day long. It is very hard not to, because I think these thoughts come to us to teach us lessons about ourselves. They are messages from our psyche that point out what we are afraid of. They are the places where we need to heal by accepting ourselves. In my case, this is often a fear that people won't like me--which on a deeper level is a fear of love, or the lack of it. Yes, my greatest fear is love. If you feel like you want to write back to me right now about what I should do to get over this fear, go ahead. I want to have a mirror held up so I can see my face reflected in your pupils. I only ask that you in turn hold the mirror up to your face and see what your desire to tell me what to do says about your own fears. The more I do this, the more I am able to see how connected everything is--which helps me let go of feelings of separation. This is a diary. I am doing my best not to hide my faults from you because I want us all to see these connections. My imperfections are a string I can follow back to the source of my fear, by showing them to you, I hope to give you the opportunity to do the same.
In the meantime, we have Michael Crichton writing about the state of fear--although I'm puzzled about his use of the double entendre in the word state, because in his book of the same name he seems to be working in collusion with the state to create the very fear he claims to be dissecting. State of Fear is about a group of eco-terrorists who create natural disasters in order to terrify the public that global warming is happening, when scientific evidence proves that it is a hoax. Although he claims this is a novel, he states that the footnotes to the book are based on actual scientific studies, so he is obviously deeply invested in his fictive opinions. The motive of the fear-creators in his novel is to raise money for his fictive environmental organization, who supposedly doesn't care anymore about the environment,but has become corrupted like any other organization with power.
Why Crichton would pick an environmental organization instead of our government, who is using the war on terrorism to do this in such a blatant way, doesn't just make me outraged, it makes me question his intentions to such an extent that I wonder if he got kickbacks from Cointelpro (yes they do still exist--the FBI's counterintelligence program). A couple of times since I got back from earth activist training people have joked to me "so what have you been up to lately besides eco-terrorism?" I laughed it off, because I knew it was meant as a good-natured joke, but after reading the review of the Crichton book I started wondering who came up with the word ecoterrorist in the first place. I am aware that there are some people who have vandalized property in the name of the environment, but I am not aware of anyone who has been blown up an entire building of innocent people in the name of forest defense, or hijacked a plane. By using the word terrorist to describe these acts of vandalism, the right is equating them with the people who have perpetrated these atrocious acts. As far as I know, far more activists are dedicated to non-violent means of resistance, because they are aware that if they adopt the methods of the oppressor, then they will ultimately become like the oppressor. I remember when political correctness was all the furor, and I'll admit that a lot of the new ways used to describe people were/are funny (meaning awkward, meaning what we really feel is uncomfortable with ourselves)-- but at the heart of the movement was a genuine desire to find words that enabled people to break free from labels that degraded or limited them in some way. The campaign by the conservative right to lampoon political correctness was an attempt to defuse the potential for people to break out of their assigned boxes. We may think it's funny, but it's a genuine threat to the powers that be. Therefore, I take offense to the word ecoterrorist. I'm not mad at the person who called me this, who is genuinely good-hearted, it just makes me realize how organized and intelligent and organized the right is in their campaign to discredit the environmental movement that they can make something so offensive seem like an innocent humorous comment, and when I follow this reaction, I rejoice, because it shows how afraid they are of us in the first place.
So afraid that they are the ones employing terrorist methods. Some of you may be aware of the case of Judi Bari and Darryl Cheney, two Earth First! activists involved in forest defense in California. On May 24, 1990, in Oakland, CA, a bomb exploded in their car. Cheney was injured, but Bari almost died. When she woke up in the hospital after the explosion, doctors told her she would never walk again. (She is now able to walk again.) She also found out the FBI was accusing her of blowing herself up--that she was transporting a bomb that was going to be used in an act of ecoterrorism by Earth First! The charges were dropped due to lack of evidence, but Bari pursued a case against her accusers in which she was able to prove that the FBI had actually planted the bomb in her car in order to discredit her and her cause. The FBI are the terrorists here, not Judi Bari and Darryl Cheney. Bari and Cheney had received numerouns death threats which the FBI did not investigate. Bari was also able to uncover that the FBI agents assigned to her case had links to COINTELPRO and the Big Timber interests who were opposed to her. For those of you who don't know, COINTELPRO, was the organization assigned to take down The Black Panthers and The American Indian Movement. The FBI claimed the branch was defunct, but Bari and Cheney were able to prove that COINTELPRO was assigned to take down Earth First! as well. And guess what? She won a 4.4 million dollar case agains the FBI, which in my eyes, proves that the checks and balances written into the Constitution, in some cases, are still working.
Why was the FBI afraid of folksinger Judi Bari? Why did they feel the need to brand her an ecoterrorist? I find it astonishing that there are people who care about money so much that they would be willing to chop down old growth redwood trees, but maybe they've never walked among them. Maybe they're afraid of what lives in the forest. Lions and tigers and bears, right?If there is one thing we humans have proved during our tenure on earth so far, is that we are extremely creative, so creative that we have managed to completely dominate our environment--not the environment. Ours, because it is something we share with every plant, animal, rock, piece of garbage, and nuclear warhead, on the earth. If we stopped calling it the and started calling it our maybe we would strop trying to dominate it! Again, choice of words is so important. I catch myself choosing the wrong words so many times every day, and am glad to have the opportunity to get feedback from people on this blog as if points out to me how imprecise my thinking is so often, and how I must never assume that people know what I am thinking when I have been sloppy or vague.
It is my belief that the people who control our country, and the people in control in many countries around the earth (who come together under the auspices of the World Trade Organization) don't want us to realizes is that we are not just extremely creative, we are infinitely creative, and because of that we have nothing to fear. If we don't cut those forests down people will starve they say, and that might be the case if humans don't use their creative powers to create a world in which no one goes hungry for lack of money. These fear-mongers are giving us an incredible opportunity--by standing up for the earth we open the door to uncovering our fears, and theirs as well. They are giving us the opportunity to recognize that we create the reality we live in. If we choose fear, we will live in a world defined by lack, if we choose to believe that there is enough for everyone, our world will reflect this back to us. Remember, the monster in the middle of the Labyrinth is afraid too. When you make it to the center offer to let him hold onto your string and lead him out. Like the spider, everything we need is inside of us. Every choice we make, every thought, every judgment, effects the web that we weave. What word do you want woven in the center of your web?
Friday, February 25, 2005
Succession Of Evolution
I just finished a complicated conversation with my friends Abby and John. I'm not sure if it was exhausing or invigorating. I do know that pedalling my way home, I couldn't get it out of my head, and that it took riding into a snowbank to bring me back to the moment right in front of me. I have had a hard time in the past staying calm when anger gets involved in a conversation. I feel like I'm being attacked and my natural response is to fight back. Today I still felt those things, but I tried my best to stay grounded and not take offense, as I know that will only close down the conversation instead of building the bridges I so desire. Instead I wonder where the other person's anger is coming from, where the impulse to dismiss my ideas comes from. Is it fear? If so, then what are they afraid of? Probably the same things I am. Sometimes when I ask why the person is getting angry, they say they're not angry, just passionate about the issue. Disclaimer--This does not apply to my friends I mentioned earlier in the post because I did not ask them these things.
A part of me thinks that anyone that is yelling at someone is more than passionate, they are angry, maybe in ways that they aren't aware of. I also recognize that righteous anger can encourage people to make changes in their personal lives and in the world. Inner, outer, above, below--everything is connected. As my friend Maria said today when I mentioned how good it felt to be thinking about the world's problems more than my own, it's ok to think about yourself, you're part of the world, too. The danger, it seems to me, is when one doesn't make the transformations, whether inner or outer, that the anger is asking us to make. Also, that if we do make the changes without letting go of the anger, we will become like the person or system that was making us angry in the first place. Starhawk presents the case for this belief so well in The Fifth Sacred Thing. This is why I am committed to non-violence. I do not want to become like the war machine that governs our world, which leads me to the gist of the debate that John and Abby and I had. It began with me saying that I believed that all people should be paid the same amount, no matter what they did. I made a mistake by using the vocabulary of the system I don't believe in. I should have said that I believed all work should be valued equally as an essential part of society, and that the value of work should be measured in some other way. For me this would be something that is both less abstract, and less tangible than the dollar. (Funny that the dollar has such tangible weight since if judged by its material components it is actually worth so very little!) Without going into the details, (feel free to post them if you want John), John disagreed, saying he thought my ideas were totally unrealistic and too idealistic too implement in the real world. I said that I didn't believe they were too idealistic at all, and that even if they are, I didn't really care, that what I have dedicated my life to is creating a vision to aspire to, something I can do as a writer, by disseminating ideas in conversation with people who are kind enough to talk to me, and most importantly, in the way that I live my life. I have a way to go as far as how I live my life, but I can see now that many of the choices I have made which have kept me on the fringe of mainstream society may have actually come from my instinctual nature. For example, I hardly own anything. I thought it was because I couldn't afford things, but when I think about it, not owning things is really more in accord with the vision I see--a cooperative society based on reverence of the four sacred things--earth, air, fire, and water. I used to always think that the way the system was set up now I could never own a home, now I'm not sure I want to. While I see the independence that owning your own property can buy, I am not sure that I want to pay the price. However, it is necessary right now for some of those who want to change the current system to own land, otherwise they wouldn't be able to demonstrate to others how to live sustainably. This creates a quandary, because the intentional communites living cooperatively run the risk of becoming like the society they are resisting. Although I have never lived in one, I imagine constant vigilance is necessary.
The important thing for me is to live my truth to the best of my abilities, and this is all I want for everybody. I didn't set up this blog to make judgments, although I am going to show my weaknesses as they appear because I want this to be an honest record of my journey. Live your truth to the best of your abilities. John is a firm believer in the righteousness of the U.S. Constitution and an admirer of The Founding Fathers. Abby pointed out that the founding fathers were radicals who were idealistic themselves, also that they left a lot of loopholes in the Constitution because they couldn't figure out how to deal with them. It could be argued, that they planned our nation according to the permaculture principle called sucession of evolution, that they planted the Constitution in such a way to prepare for ideas that could only come to fruition in the future, that perhaps they believed that the timing was not right for some of the ideas they may have wanted to include, like outlawing slavery and allowing women to vote. I don't know, as I am not familiar with the backstory of the writing of the Constitution,perhaps Abby could fill us in here. As the conversation continued, I pointed out that Jefferson, the primary author of the Constitution, owned slaves, whom he didn't free until he could no longer support them. John pointed out that The Constitution had a system of checks and balances written into it so that the different branches couldn't become corrupt, and that the problem now is that they were corrupt, which is the source of his righteous indignation. Abby pointed out that in the original wording, Jefferson adapted the words of John Locke to say that our God-given rights were life, liberty, and the pursuit of property, and that this was amended to the pursuit of happiness that we are guaranteed now. I should have pointed out that no one consulted the Founding Mothers, but I can now. Indeed, the Founding Mothers weren't given a voice in the Constitution. Women didn't receive the right to vote until the 1920s. After the Civil War, I believe that black male Americans could vote, but only if they owned a certain amount of property. Correct me on this if I am wrong. I did point out that I thought our government based on the Founding Father's Constitution was corrupt because it was founded on the assumption that ownership of property was also a fundamental right, and also because the Founding Fathers, as we so often hear, included the words "the right to bear arms" within it. Our nation was founded when a group of people who had wrested the land from the original inhabitants (who could have taken it from someone else, I don't know, but who if while not living in total harmony with each other, appeared to be living in harmony with the earth. They certainly weren't generating landfills and dumping their garbage from barges into the ocean). As I was saying, our nation was founded when the colonists fought a bloody war for "independence" from the British. I put quotation marks around the word independence, because how can anyone say we live in a free nation if we are caught up in an unending cycle of violence? However! Just because the Founding Fathers couldn't live their truths, doesn't mean that we can't either. I ask everyone who reads these words to look in their hearts and see what lives there, and share it if you choose. What's idealistic about that? Who knows, maybe Jefferson would be glad to see us abandon the Constitution as a document that no longer reflects our current needs and, in the spirit of the succession of evolution, help us write a new one. After all he, like Jesus, was a revolutionary in his time.
This was an amazing and exciting conversation, which I've decided was more invigorating than exhausting after clarifying my ideas here. John and Abby, thanks for taking the time to engage with me.
To finish, I would like to quote from Starhawk's The Fifth Sacred Thing.
"We believe there are Four Sacred Things that can't be owned," Bird said. "Water is one of them. The others are earth and air and fire. They can't be owned because they belong to everybody, because everybody's life depends on them."
"But that would make them the best kind of things to own," Littlejohn said. "Because if your life depends on it, you've got to have it. You'll pay any price for it. You'll steal or lie or kill to get."
"That's why we don't let anybody own them," Bird said.
A part of me thinks that anyone that is yelling at someone is more than passionate, they are angry, maybe in ways that they aren't aware of. I also recognize that righteous anger can encourage people to make changes in their personal lives and in the world. Inner, outer, above, below--everything is connected. As my friend Maria said today when I mentioned how good it felt to be thinking about the world's problems more than my own, it's ok to think about yourself, you're part of the world, too. The danger, it seems to me, is when one doesn't make the transformations, whether inner or outer, that the anger is asking us to make. Also, that if we do make the changes without letting go of the anger, we will become like the person or system that was making us angry in the first place. Starhawk presents the case for this belief so well in The Fifth Sacred Thing. This is why I am committed to non-violence. I do not want to become like the war machine that governs our world, which leads me to the gist of the debate that John and Abby and I had. It began with me saying that I believed that all people should be paid the same amount, no matter what they did. I made a mistake by using the vocabulary of the system I don't believe in. I should have said that I believed all work should be valued equally as an essential part of society, and that the value of work should be measured in some other way. For me this would be something that is both less abstract, and less tangible than the dollar. (Funny that the dollar has such tangible weight since if judged by its material components it is actually worth so very little!) Without going into the details, (feel free to post them if you want John), John disagreed, saying he thought my ideas were totally unrealistic and too idealistic too implement in the real world. I said that I didn't believe they were too idealistic at all, and that even if they are, I didn't really care, that what I have dedicated my life to is creating a vision to aspire to, something I can do as a writer, by disseminating ideas in conversation with people who are kind enough to talk to me, and most importantly, in the way that I live my life. I have a way to go as far as how I live my life, but I can see now that many of the choices I have made which have kept me on the fringe of mainstream society may have actually come from my instinctual nature. For example, I hardly own anything. I thought it was because I couldn't afford things, but when I think about it, not owning things is really more in accord with the vision I see--a cooperative society based on reverence of the four sacred things--earth, air, fire, and water. I used to always think that the way the system was set up now I could never own a home, now I'm not sure I want to. While I see the independence that owning your own property can buy, I am not sure that I want to pay the price. However, it is necessary right now for some of those who want to change the current system to own land, otherwise they wouldn't be able to demonstrate to others how to live sustainably. This creates a quandary, because the intentional communites living cooperatively run the risk of becoming like the society they are resisting. Although I have never lived in one, I imagine constant vigilance is necessary.
The important thing for me is to live my truth to the best of my abilities, and this is all I want for everybody. I didn't set up this blog to make judgments, although I am going to show my weaknesses as they appear because I want this to be an honest record of my journey. Live your truth to the best of your abilities. John is a firm believer in the righteousness of the U.S. Constitution and an admirer of The Founding Fathers. Abby pointed out that the founding fathers were radicals who were idealistic themselves, also that they left a lot of loopholes in the Constitution because they couldn't figure out how to deal with them. It could be argued, that they planned our nation according to the permaculture principle called sucession of evolution, that they planted the Constitution in such a way to prepare for ideas that could only come to fruition in the future, that perhaps they believed that the timing was not right for some of the ideas they may have wanted to include, like outlawing slavery and allowing women to vote. I don't know, as I am not familiar with the backstory of the writing of the Constitution,perhaps Abby could fill us in here. As the conversation continued, I pointed out that Jefferson, the primary author of the Constitution, owned slaves, whom he didn't free until he could no longer support them. John pointed out that The Constitution had a system of checks and balances written into it so that the different branches couldn't become corrupt, and that the problem now is that they were corrupt, which is the source of his righteous indignation. Abby pointed out that in the original wording, Jefferson adapted the words of John Locke to say that our God-given rights were life, liberty, and the pursuit of property, and that this was amended to the pursuit of happiness that we are guaranteed now. I should have pointed out that no one consulted the Founding Mothers, but I can now. Indeed, the Founding Mothers weren't given a voice in the Constitution. Women didn't receive the right to vote until the 1920s. After the Civil War, I believe that black male Americans could vote, but only if they owned a certain amount of property. Correct me on this if I am wrong. I did point out that I thought our government based on the Founding Father's Constitution was corrupt because it was founded on the assumption that ownership of property was also a fundamental right, and also because the Founding Fathers, as we so often hear, included the words "the right to bear arms" within it. Our nation was founded when a group of people who had wrested the land from the original inhabitants (who could have taken it from someone else, I don't know, but who if while not living in total harmony with each other, appeared to be living in harmony with the earth. They certainly weren't generating landfills and dumping their garbage from barges into the ocean). As I was saying, our nation was founded when the colonists fought a bloody war for "independence" from the British. I put quotation marks around the word independence, because how can anyone say we live in a free nation if we are caught up in an unending cycle of violence? However! Just because the Founding Fathers couldn't live their truths, doesn't mean that we can't either. I ask everyone who reads these words to look in their hearts and see what lives there, and share it if you choose. What's idealistic about that? Who knows, maybe Jefferson would be glad to see us abandon the Constitution as a document that no longer reflects our current needs and, in the spirit of the succession of evolution, help us write a new one. After all he, like Jesus, was a revolutionary in his time.
This was an amazing and exciting conversation, which I've decided was more invigorating than exhausting after clarifying my ideas here. John and Abby, thanks for taking the time to engage with me.
To finish, I would like to quote from Starhawk's The Fifth Sacred Thing.
"We believe there are Four Sacred Things that can't be owned," Bird said. "Water is one of them. The others are earth and air and fire. They can't be owned because they belong to everybody, because everybody's life depends on them."
"But that would make them the best kind of things to own," Littlejohn said. "Because if your life depends on it, you've got to have it. You'll pay any price for it. You'll steal or lie or kill to get."
"That's why we don't let anybody own them," Bird said.
One Calorie In/One Calorie Out--Take 3
I had dinner with my Aunt and Uncle last night. I'll admit, heading over to their house I thought my uncle as going to take the opportunity to tear my ideas apart--I also knew that he would definitely ask be about them, that I couldn't just get away with sitting out the conversation since it would only be the three of us. I'm not sure if I've grown less confrontational, or my uncle has mellowed, but my uncle heard me out while I explained what I had learned at EAT, and while he did bring up the experts I keep hearing about who say global warming is a hoax, that ecological disaster is not imminent, instead of getting flustered and angry, I said that even if that was the case, the reason I was attracted to permaculture was because it was a way of life I could feel good about participating in, which all three of us at the table agreed was a good thing. The dinner was delicious too! Thanks Aunt Doris!
My uncle mentioned a book called Fear Factor by Michael Crichton that's out now. From the way he described it, he said the book outlines how people in power use fear to control their populations, in this case global warming. My aunt was quick to point out that terrorism is the fear our government is using to control us. If global warming is a hoax, who is using this fear and what are they trying to control? According to my uncle, Crichton says that it is the large environmental groups, who by now are operating like corporations, who are trying to gain control this way. This brings up a lot of interesting things to think about in regards to power, and how power plays itself out in groups. Even groups with good intentions run the risk of being like the systems they are trying to change if they model themselves on the very groups they are trying to change. Thus, language is very important. I was going to say "overthrow" and "supplant" but realized that this was using the language of the oppressor. At EAT, we were taught the consensus method of working in groups, a non-hierarchical system that does its best to let everyone have a voice and choice in the decisions of the group. For those of you who haven't tried it, consensus is frustrating and exhausting, but I found it to be so rewarding in the end because I was offered opportunities to let go and enjoy the process of working with people, instead of focusing on the product, or end result. And this is what happened at dinner with my aunt and uncle too. Best of all, my aunt has said I can have a garden at her place this summer!
Look for more on consensus in a future post. whitewave
My uncle mentioned a book called Fear Factor by Michael Crichton that's out now. From the way he described it, he said the book outlines how people in power use fear to control their populations, in this case global warming. My aunt was quick to point out that terrorism is the fear our government is using to control us. If global warming is a hoax, who is using this fear and what are they trying to control? According to my uncle, Crichton says that it is the large environmental groups, who by now are operating like corporations, who are trying to gain control this way. This brings up a lot of interesting things to think about in regards to power, and how power plays itself out in groups. Even groups with good intentions run the risk of being like the systems they are trying to change if they model themselves on the very groups they are trying to change. Thus, language is very important. I was going to say "overthrow" and "supplant" but realized that this was using the language of the oppressor. At EAT, we were taught the consensus method of working in groups, a non-hierarchical system that does its best to let everyone have a voice and choice in the decisions of the group. For those of you who haven't tried it, consensus is frustrating and exhausting, but I found it to be so rewarding in the end because I was offered opportunities to let go and enjoy the process of working with people, instead of focusing on the product, or end result. And this is what happened at dinner with my aunt and uncle too. Best of all, my aunt has said I can have a garden at her place this summer!
Look for more on consensus in a future post. whitewave
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Broken Mirror
Broken Mirror
This is a poem trying to reach the source of a river,
and about spending your whole life in the eye of a hurricane.
This poem has invisible walls that hold the storm at bay,
and is trying to understand why the heart has to break.
This is a poem about how my mom made me oatmeal
on really cold mornings, and how on Sundays,
my dad made pancakes.
This poem grew up to hate itself for no discernible reason,
it didn’t tell anyone it was raped.
This poem wears disappointment like a brand name,
but refuses to explain.
This poem might explode some day,
but today it slumps in its seat.
This poem thinks it knows everything.
It’s looking for a fight.
This poem has eaten too much when it wasn’t hungry.
Now it wants to bite.
This poem is afraid of drowning.
It’s an alcoholic who only cares about the next drink.
This poem can’t see itself on the surface of the still pool
at the source of the stream.
This poem doesn’t understand anything.
This poem’s been aborted.
It says the earth is almost dead anyway.
A spurned goddess lurks in the caves of this poem.
Her tears are stalactites.
This poem laughs at pilgrims who crawl on hands and knees
to see a stone saint weep.
This poem wants to be slapped in the face.
This poem is so hard not even a diamond chisel
could reveal its gleam.
This poem has been chipped away like The Sphinx.
It doesn’t recognize its own face.
This poem has stones in its pockets as it steps off the riverbank.
This poem thinks it’s a martyr, when it’s really a saint.
This poem begs for love to find it.
Love says there’s no room for me, blame has taken my space.
This poem wants to be blind, to wait in the dark with its antennae
at ease.
This poem wants to feel its way.
This poem is so sharp, you could cut your wrists with it.
This poem is so ashamed.
This poem never thought beauty would look back at her
from the hospital mirror.
This poem shines with grace.
This is a poem trying to reach the source of a river,
and about spending your whole life in the eye of a hurricane.
This poem has invisible walls that hold the storm at bay,
and is trying to understand why the heart has to break.
This is a poem about how my mom made me oatmeal
on really cold mornings, and how on Sundays,
my dad made pancakes.
This poem grew up to hate itself for no discernible reason,
it didn’t tell anyone it was raped.
This poem wears disappointment like a brand name,
but refuses to explain.
This poem might explode some day,
but today it slumps in its seat.
This poem thinks it knows everything.
It’s looking for a fight.
This poem has eaten too much when it wasn’t hungry.
Now it wants to bite.
This poem is afraid of drowning.
It’s an alcoholic who only cares about the next drink.
This poem can’t see itself on the surface of the still pool
at the source of the stream.
This poem doesn’t understand anything.
This poem’s been aborted.
It says the earth is almost dead anyway.
A spurned goddess lurks in the caves of this poem.
Her tears are stalactites.
This poem laughs at pilgrims who crawl on hands and knees
to see a stone saint weep.
This poem wants to be slapped in the face.
This poem is so hard not even a diamond chisel
could reveal its gleam.
This poem has been chipped away like The Sphinx.
It doesn’t recognize its own face.
This poem has stones in its pockets as it steps off the riverbank.
This poem thinks it’s a martyr, when it’s really a saint.
This poem begs for love to find it.
Love says there’s no room for me, blame has taken my space.
This poem wants to be blind, to wait in the dark with its antennae
at ease.
This poem wants to feel its way.
This poem is so sharp, you could cut your wrists with it.
This poem is so ashamed.
This poem never thought beauty would look back at her
from the hospital mirror.
This poem shines with grace.
One Calorie In/One Calorie Out continued
In thinking about the statement I made in an earlier post about how I'd received less energy back as a writer than I'd put into the work, I realized that this isn't so. I was using money, the standard measurement of energy/labor in our society as my measurement, because I want so badly to be sustained materially by my writing, since I believe it is my vocation. Although I have not received an equal amount of money per work, I have received an equal amount of energy. From my book Siren, which I self published in 2002, I received some money, and lots of feedback, gratitude, compassion, understanding, praise--a multitude of reactions which were satisfying and have sustained me in going on. I have also written two and a half unpublished novels, which have been rejected over and over again as not being commercial enough. However, I can see now that the lessons I have learned from writing these books is the energy that has been given back to me, most specifically, the deepening of my intuitive powers. Writing has enabled me to walk through many doorways, to begin to live in other dimensions. I've been getting messages for a long time--I just didn't realize it until a copule of years ago because I always thought they would be in a voice that wasn't mine. As a writer, I have learned how to live in between the worlds. My current novel in progress, Black Swan, is a gift from the world between the worlds to give to this world, which leads me to my next post on the permaculture principle, edge effect......coming soon.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
One Calorie In/ One Calorie Out
I'm depressed about the last blog I wrote about how I am depressed. As I sat in the bath after I logged off, thinking of how to get out of the quagmire of negativity I've sunk into--of course I berated myself for sitting in a nice hot bath when so many all over the world don't even have clean, safe drinking water--I thought of the permaculture principle that relates to why I am feeling so down. As I outlined earlier, I don't feel good (understatement) about any of the job options currently available to me because not only are none of them contributing to a sustainable world, they are harming the planet. While I know I am lucky to have any job at all considering there are people starving, a fact which I keep beating myself up with, I decided that accepting this out of guilt is another way of conceding to the status quo which wants to keep us in our places, head to the ground so we don't have time to look up and see what is being taken away from us--not just the liberty to travel across the earth at will, but the earth itself. The four sacred things--earth, air, fire and water, fall more and more under corporate control every day. This has become so much a part of our reality in the United States that we accept it. Hardly anyone questions our right to own land, in fact, in the U.S. psyche, this is considered a basic right--ownership is equated with breathing. We must pay for fire to heat our homes, and we must pay for water, whether it's from the water company, or by buying bottled water because we're afraid of what's coming out of the tap. We can still breathe the air for free, although there are probably secondary effects of doing so like asthma and cancer, and as all of us uninsured know, the medical costs to heal these sickenesses are outrageous. There's no such thing as a free lunch, my Uncle Herman always says. When I was little I would always try to prove this wasn't true, but I gave up eventually because he always managed to prove he was right. Now that I can see we don't really speak the same language, and that' he's not willing to try to learn mine, I just don't bother, although it's hard, and very stressful, to realize that you live in a whole different reality from most people around you, and if we don't try to communicate we won't be able to build the bridges we're going to need when the time to cross over (now) is at hand. So I know that I need to work on my communication skills. Writing these blogs is a beginning, a way to clarify my ideas so that when the time comes I am prepared to present my vision in clear and concise terms that can be understood by even the most empirically minded scientist, instead of through poetry, the language of my heart and soul. I know the only thing I can do is to keep on building the reality that I want to live in. The hard part is accepting that I might not ever get to live in it myself, thay may stay a dream.
So what is this reality I keep talking about? Well, it's sustainable. By this I mean it produces as much energy as it takes in, and it's built on and out of renewable sources. It exemplifies the principle one calorie in / one calorie out. In garden design this would mean that one doesn't export more biomass than carbon fixed by the solar budget. One way to do this is by composting material and using the compost to grow soil. As far as my work life, and that of the typical U.S. citizen, this is not the case. Most of us expend far more energy then we get back. It is those who own the fruits of our labor who gain the most energy, which in our case is measured by the dollar. When I think of how truly exploited people in developing countries are by this system, I again feel ashamed and guilty for being depressed about my situation. Almost enough to capitulate, just suck it up and go back to passing out styrofoam. But I've got a couple of more weeks, and if I do have to go back to that, then I know that I can try to make changes in my work place, and even if I fail, I spoke up, and that because of that, something more positive will come my way.
I want to consider the nature of shame and guilt. What function do these two emotions serve? It seems to me that shame and guilt keep people down. They are powerful regulators that we internalize as children, so strong they control people's lives, stop them from feeling joy in so many ways, stop them from following their dreams. Who do you think you are to want something different, guilt says. You're sick. You're disgusting. You deserve it, shame says. They are self-constraining, or negative feedback loops, which help maintain equilibrium. This can be a good thing in some cases, but when it's not, the answer is to create self-reinforcing loops which drive change. Self-reinforcing loops work by positive feedback. In my case, I can tell myself that my dreams of sustainability are worthy and reflect the true abundance of the earth. I can tell myself that any small act I take, even if it is only symbolic, will affect change in dimensions beyond what I can determine with my physical senses. I can ask for love and support with an open heart. I know it will come to me. It always does. I know that I receive far more than I give, and tonight, instead of feeling guilty about this, I am just going to say thanks.
So what is this reality I keep talking about? Well, it's sustainable. By this I mean it produces as much energy as it takes in, and it's built on and out of renewable sources. It exemplifies the principle one calorie in / one calorie out. In garden design this would mean that one doesn't export more biomass than carbon fixed by the solar budget. One way to do this is by composting material and using the compost to grow soil. As far as my work life, and that of the typical U.S. citizen, this is not the case. Most of us expend far more energy then we get back. It is those who own the fruits of our labor who gain the most energy, which in our case is measured by the dollar. When I think of how truly exploited people in developing countries are by this system, I again feel ashamed and guilty for being depressed about my situation. Almost enough to capitulate, just suck it up and go back to passing out styrofoam. But I've got a couple of more weeks, and if I do have to go back to that, then I know that I can try to make changes in my work place, and even if I fail, I spoke up, and that because of that, something more positive will come my way.
I want to consider the nature of shame and guilt. What function do these two emotions serve? It seems to me that shame and guilt keep people down. They are powerful regulators that we internalize as children, so strong they control people's lives, stop them from feeling joy in so many ways, stop them from following their dreams. Who do you think you are to want something different, guilt says. You're sick. You're disgusting. You deserve it, shame says. They are self-constraining, or negative feedback loops, which help maintain equilibrium. This can be a good thing in some cases, but when it's not, the answer is to create self-reinforcing loops which drive change. Self-reinforcing loops work by positive feedback. In my case, I can tell myself that my dreams of sustainability are worthy and reflect the true abundance of the earth. I can tell myself that any small act I take, even if it is only symbolic, will affect change in dimensions beyond what I can determine with my physical senses. I can ask for love and support with an open heart. I know it will come to me. It always does. I know that I receive far more than I give, and tonight, instead of feeling guilty about this, I am just going to say thanks.
Copies of Siren available
I haven't written in a couple of days. I guess I've been kind of depressed. I hate to admit it after being so charged up about permaculture and how I'm going to change the world one day at a time, but I sunk back into my usual cycle of self-defeating behaviour and thinking. A lot of this is because winter is just so hard out here. Most of the time it is grey and most of the time it is windy. There is nothing green growing. I probably would feel better if I could go out and start a garden, but that won't be possible until May. I am also missing the daily contact with likeminded people I had at EAT. EVen though I am pretty solitary, I still want to have daily contact with people who are engaged in the same struggle that I am--people who are aware of what's happening to the earth, and who are doing something about it. It seems like a lot of the people I know are engaged with personal healing,(or are trying to get to that point, which usually means they are lost in depression and addiction) but haven't reached a point where they are ready to heal our culture and the land. And then there are all those people I dont' know at all, and even though I know there is no way for me to really know what's going on in their minds, it seems like all anyone is concerned with is daily survival. Getting up in time to go to work after tying one on at The Albion last night. Making it to the end of the week, until payday, when the boss will reward their wage slavery so they can guzzle shots of Jagermeister. Or there are those who own and control the island, who don't seem to care at all about the land here. They don't think about how the watershed's getting polluted or consider the toxic materials they use to build houses for rich people who only use them for three months a year. What I'm saying is I'm lonely! I wish I was back in the magical circle on Black Mountain singing to the full moon, raising a cone of power. I just have to tell myself that that energy is still there for me. I know that I will ride this period out and find it again. I am just tired of this cycle and wonder what I'm afraid of--because I think there is still something in me that doesn't believe I can get out of it, so I keep sabotaging myself. I know that my thoughts create my reality, and that there are so many factors which go into creating them, including physical things like what food you put in your body, which I definitely struggle with. We don't even have access to organic produce here beyond a couple of items, and as for buying locally, there's nothing growing in New England in February. Basically I know I need to make some big changes in my material life and I don't know how to go about doing it. Well I do, there's just nothing I can do about it right now because I'm broke and depressed, which you know is a bad combination if you've ever been there yourself.
I just finished Starhawk's incredible book The Fifth Sacred Thing, and found myself wishing to live in a collective in San Francisco with people dedicated to preserving the four sacred things. Even though the book is really scary, there was something about it that brought me a feeling of relief. It had that quality I have been seeking all my life--the characters were faced with something so huge they had no choice but to engage with it if they wanted to survive. I've always loved books like this--The Lord of the Rings, Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea Trilogy, the books of Madeleine L'Engle, The Wayfarer REdemption series, by Sarah Douglass. When I read these books, I live in them. They are far more appealing worlds than the one I find myself in when I finish the book.
As a culture, we in the U.S. are so disconnected from our wild minds and our wild bodies. Any time I have read books where the survival of a world is at stake, I am sucked right in. I don't know if this is because I am connecting to something that will happen to us, a prophetic impulse maybe, that these books act like blueprints for what I must learn when the time comes when our world is unequivocally at stake, or if I am just overwhelmed by the amount of choices available to me. All I know is that having a world of choices hasn't made me happy, although I give thanks as a woman to have them at all. I just wish I lived in a society like the San Francisco of The Fifth Sacred Thing--a place where my vocation was valued and supported--both psychologically and financially.
Which brings me to my current dilemma, one that has been dogging me for almost twenty years. I live in constant fear of not being able to support myself. I have always known that I wanted to be a writer, and I've pretty much designed my life around this call, working seasonally on Block Island, using the winter downtime to develop my craft, believing that it would eventually "pay off" one day. Well it hasn't. I've written three novels and two poetry books and I've definitely spent more money on them than I've received. I've even tried to compromise commercially, but it just made the books worse. I've had so many crappy jobs I can't even count them all. Basically I've reached a point where I will go insane if I have to take another one. It isn't worth it to me, especially now that I see how all those jobs are damaging the earth--poisoning the water with toxic chemicals from housepaint, filling up landfills with styrofoam take-out containers, polluting people's bodies with hormone filled meat. I Can't do it anymore! As I was biking into town today I prayed to the Goddess to send me some meaningful work that will support me financially, because within two weeks I'd say, I am going to be completely broke. I am so used to thinking in terms of survival because there are so few jobs out here to begin with, that my fear of poverty limits my thinking. The stress and shame, because even though I know that I shouldn't be ashamed, I still see myself as a failure sometimes, especially when I think about how I am disappointing people I care about who don't understand or agree with the way I have chosen to live my life. It is just really hard to have faith that there is enough when I am surrounded by others who have completely bought into the survivalist mentality, or who own so much that they don't have to worry about it. I just feel so overwhelmed when I think about all there is to do--and wish I knew others out here who felt the same way so that I felt there was actually hope to make a change in my lifetime. But I tell myself that someone has to be the first, and maybe that's why I'm here. Although I would much rather join something that is already in place, I may have to be the one who starts here, and I know this will be hard, because the odds are so against me. I must let go of resentment that I have to struggle so much and keep saying that permaculture maxim to myself, the problem is the solution. The earth wasn't formed in a day, people say. I can't expect everything to change over night. I must think in terms of the seven generations in front of me. My life may have to be a sacrifice so that they can live in harmony.
If anyone would like to help in sustaining me, I have copies of my poetry book Siren for sale for ten dollars. Send me cash or a check at P.O. Box 1566, Block Island, RI 02807. Thank You.
I just finished Starhawk's incredible book The Fifth Sacred Thing, and found myself wishing to live in a collective in San Francisco with people dedicated to preserving the four sacred things. Even though the book is really scary, there was something about it that brought me a feeling of relief. It had that quality I have been seeking all my life--the characters were faced with something so huge they had no choice but to engage with it if they wanted to survive. I've always loved books like this--The Lord of the Rings, Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea Trilogy, the books of Madeleine L'Engle, The Wayfarer REdemption series, by Sarah Douglass. When I read these books, I live in them. They are far more appealing worlds than the one I find myself in when I finish the book.
As a culture, we in the U.S. are so disconnected from our wild minds and our wild bodies. Any time I have read books where the survival of a world is at stake, I am sucked right in. I don't know if this is because I am connecting to something that will happen to us, a prophetic impulse maybe, that these books act like blueprints for what I must learn when the time comes when our world is unequivocally at stake, or if I am just overwhelmed by the amount of choices available to me. All I know is that having a world of choices hasn't made me happy, although I give thanks as a woman to have them at all. I just wish I lived in a society like the San Francisco of The Fifth Sacred Thing--a place where my vocation was valued and supported--both psychologically and financially.
Which brings me to my current dilemma, one that has been dogging me for almost twenty years. I live in constant fear of not being able to support myself. I have always known that I wanted to be a writer, and I've pretty much designed my life around this call, working seasonally on Block Island, using the winter downtime to develop my craft, believing that it would eventually "pay off" one day. Well it hasn't. I've written three novels and two poetry books and I've definitely spent more money on them than I've received. I've even tried to compromise commercially, but it just made the books worse. I've had so many crappy jobs I can't even count them all. Basically I've reached a point where I will go insane if I have to take another one. It isn't worth it to me, especially now that I see how all those jobs are damaging the earth--poisoning the water with toxic chemicals from housepaint, filling up landfills with styrofoam take-out containers, polluting people's bodies with hormone filled meat. I Can't do it anymore! As I was biking into town today I prayed to the Goddess to send me some meaningful work that will support me financially, because within two weeks I'd say, I am going to be completely broke. I am so used to thinking in terms of survival because there are so few jobs out here to begin with, that my fear of poverty limits my thinking. The stress and shame, because even though I know that I shouldn't be ashamed, I still see myself as a failure sometimes, especially when I think about how I am disappointing people I care about who don't understand or agree with the way I have chosen to live my life. It is just really hard to have faith that there is enough when I am surrounded by others who have completely bought into the survivalist mentality, or who own so much that they don't have to worry about it. I just feel so overwhelmed when I think about all there is to do--and wish I knew others out here who felt the same way so that I felt there was actually hope to make a change in my lifetime. But I tell myself that someone has to be the first, and maybe that's why I'm here. Although I would much rather join something that is already in place, I may have to be the one who starts here, and I know this will be hard, because the odds are so against me. I must let go of resentment that I have to struggle so much and keep saying that permaculture maxim to myself, the problem is the solution. The earth wasn't formed in a day, people say. I can't expect everything to change over night. I must think in terms of the seven generations in front of me. My life may have to be a sacrifice so that they can live in harmony.
If anyone would like to help in sustaining me, I have copies of my poetry book Siren for sale for ten dollars. Send me cash or a check at P.O. Box 1566, Block Island, RI 02807. Thank You.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Every Element Supports Many Functions
Wow. What a day for illuminating conversation. This has not been the case for me in the past here on Block Island. I used to silently berate my fellow winter islanders for not being interested in anything besides football and beer, but after eight winters, and much personal growth, I've discovered that the universe was bringing what I needed all along. My isolation was a necessary step in deprogramming myself from mainstream culture in order to learn this in the first place. I needed to work through bitterness and loneliness in order to open my heart fully. Maybe for some people, this happens naturally, and we are fortunate to have them here on earth to show us what an open heart looks like, but I can say, truthfully, that I am grateful for the lessons I learned from loneliness, and though I still carry it with me to some extent, I recognize it as a defense mechanism now--something that wants to stop me from growing, and know that if I am feeling shy or isolated, it is time to break out of my shell and stretch my wings, that something amazing is going to come into my life if I open myself to the possibility.
I no longer have a car, which can be a trial out here in the winter. If I want to see anybody, I have to go into town, which is only about two miles away. Those two miles, however, can be very windy. I tell myself how good it is that I'm not polluting the air and using up fossil fuels with my car whenever I get mad that my car died and I can't afford another, and am grateful that I live on a small island, and that I am healthy enough to walk or bike, and that I have generous friends who will give me rides after dark or when it's raining. Every morning I do a site analysis to see whether I can bike, or if it's too windy, walk, or if it's just awful, call someone for a ride. Site analysis is something a permaculturist does when planning a design. It involves taking a good look at the elements, both physical and abstract, that comprise the project, whether it be a garden or a curriculum. I want to talk more about site analysis in another post, so stay tuned.
My site analysis this morning told me, that while cold, there was no wind, and there was a glorious amount of sunshine. Perfect for biking into town if I bundled up, which I did, donning long underwear and wrapping a scarf around my nose to keep the chill off my face. I decided to "catch and store energy" for myself, soaking in the positive rays of sun to store up against the depression that so often affects me on the grey days of winter. Catching and storing energy is also something that is part of permaculture design. In a site analysis for a natural building, the designer would pay attention to how the sun hit the property and how much of it there was, the amount and direction of water flow, and the amount and direction of wind. In a project involving people, a permaculturist might take an inventory of group resources in a site analysis and figure out ways to catch and store the energy of individuals so as to best benefit the group. As I biked around the island today, even the cold was invigorating. I could feel it stimulating my brain, clearing sloppy thoughts away as it demanded me to be present with it. I ended up down by New Harbor, which in summer is full of hundreds of boats, but which today was providing shelter for one, lone sailboat, its hull bright white against the winter ocean, a blue so deep one can't see beyond its surface. I was checking out the sea ducks in an unscientific way, wishing Sonya from EAT (who knows everything ) was there with me to tell me what species they were, when a fellow biker approached me. There aren't too many of us out here in February, so I knew immediately we had something in common. It turns out he lived on the sailboat moored offshore, and had actually been on it for the storm I missed while I was in California, a storm which dumped two feet of snow on the island, and in which the wind was clocked at 100 miles an hour! He was quite stoic about the experience, which sounded harrowing to me, telling me that he was scared for the boat, but not for his own safety. As I asked him questions about living on a boat, he told me of seeing a huge pod of dolphins off Watch Hill, RI last fall, and I mentioned the great white shark that entered an inlet off Woods Hole, MA last fall, both unusual occurences for these areas. Since we were getting along so well, I mentioned why I thought so many of our brothers and sisters in the animal kingdom seemed to be in strange places today, namely that humans were affecting earth's atmosphere to such an extent, whether it be from underwater military testing which effects dolphin sonar, lack of food due to overfishing, interruption of migration routes from sedimentation of rivers or oceanic freight traffic, or from climate change due to global warming.
The warm, easy vibes between me and my new friend ended immediately, and then I saw that the universe was "stacking functions" for me. Not only was I enjoying a sunny day on my bike, I was being given the opportunity to clarify my views to an extremely dubious audience, a person with the exact opposite views of myself about the state of earth and our reason for being here. But, and this is what made the conversation so exciting, the universe brought me someone with an extremely well-developed philosophy who had thought long and hard about the same issues that I had. On Block Island in February! I tried not to reel in shock when he told me that he thought that when animals showed up in strange places it meant that they were coming back to a place where they had been before, that this was a sign that the environment was healthy, or when he justified humans wasting resources by telling me how bears only took one bite out of a salmon before tossing it aside, or when he said the purpose of life on earth was to use the resources of the planet to get to another one because we were going to be hit by an asteroid, or that John Stossel reported on TV that there was plenty of room in the land fills and that we didn't need to worry about waste. His belief in social Darwinism was complete and his knowledge of the chemical processes which make up life was impressive. He was an articulate exponent of science who could not be swayed into considering that the instruments which we used to measure "evidence" could be infallible in the first place, or that there was anything beyond the physical, although now that I think of it, I wish I had thought to bring into our discussion the scientific fact that we can't see anything on the cellular level without a microscope! Telling him that I knew people who could "see" these things with their inner eye wouldn't have worked. I knew that this was not the right audience to introduce the idea that intuition is sometimes just as valid a way as gathering information as science. In doing so, I took timing into consideration, another factor in site analysis. A permaculturist takes timing into consideration when coming up with a design, creating a timeline based on an observance of the site in all seasons.
In this case, I knew that the timing to reveal much of what I believed wasn't right. I was able to recognize that the purpose of this conversation was for me to learn how to stay grounded, to connect with that neutral state that Starhawk told us about and not react emotionally to what he had to say out of anger or frustration, and with respect to him, he was a good listener who let me speak, listening to ideas which I knew he thought were ridiculous. I really felt like I was interacting with someone who genuinely wanted to engage. We weren't opponents, which has so often been the case for me in the past, we were two different paradigms clashing on the dock while the sea ducks quacked beneath us. Because I stayed neutral, I was able to "observe and interact," instead of becoming furious and storming away. I know I am stronger for it.
After this invigorating interlude I rode my bike to command central BI--Club Foster, we call it, the home of my friend John whose place is a hub for me and my friends. John does the layout for the BI Times and is truly "wired." If we need something, whether it be information, mechanical aid, or as so often happens at Club Foster, entertainment, we climb the stairs behind the newspaper office and enter his lair. My friend Abby was lying on the couch reading Bernard Malamud, which she kindly put down to chat with me. Abby is a reporter for the paper, a brilliant analyst and synthesizer of ideas. As someone who has to sit through hours of tedious meetings and make it comprehensible to the common reader, she has to be. She has had the opportunity to see what is missing from the various committees which run our town. The town board are all focused on reacting and containing, not in creating a vision for what their boards should and could achieve. What they need is someone to formulate this vision for them. Which got me to thinking about a project I want to start here on the island, something James Stark, co-founder of the Permaculture Institute and a guest speaker at EAT, mentioned during his talk. James encouraged us to think long term, instead of just focusing on the immediate problem on hand. He actually mentioned creating a 100 year vision for our community. Although I am not sure yet how to do this, ideas are fomenting in my cold-stimulated brain. I know that I don't want it to be my vision, I want it to be our vision. So I am going to keep thinking about how to go about doing this and do it! I am so excited!
Another conversation I had to today involves a dear friend of mine who moved away from the island last fall. I learned today that she has stage 4 breast cancer. Emily is someone who has been so important in my life and to many in our community. For me, she has been the living embodiment of The Goddess. A wise soul with the far-seeing eyes of an owl and the grace of a swan. My introduction to earth magic and ritual came from her. I felt like when she left, that a good deal of magic left Block Island. Many of us view her as our fairy godmother. Whatever happens to her, I know she will meet it with strength and grace. I ask all of you who feel moved to to send her healing energy. Blessed be.
I no longer have a car, which can be a trial out here in the winter. If I want to see anybody, I have to go into town, which is only about two miles away. Those two miles, however, can be very windy. I tell myself how good it is that I'm not polluting the air and using up fossil fuels with my car whenever I get mad that my car died and I can't afford another, and am grateful that I live on a small island, and that I am healthy enough to walk or bike, and that I have generous friends who will give me rides after dark or when it's raining. Every morning I do a site analysis to see whether I can bike, or if it's too windy, walk, or if it's just awful, call someone for a ride. Site analysis is something a permaculturist does when planning a design. It involves taking a good look at the elements, both physical and abstract, that comprise the project, whether it be a garden or a curriculum. I want to talk more about site analysis in another post, so stay tuned.
My site analysis this morning told me, that while cold, there was no wind, and there was a glorious amount of sunshine. Perfect for biking into town if I bundled up, which I did, donning long underwear and wrapping a scarf around my nose to keep the chill off my face. I decided to "catch and store energy" for myself, soaking in the positive rays of sun to store up against the depression that so often affects me on the grey days of winter. Catching and storing energy is also something that is part of permaculture design. In a site analysis for a natural building, the designer would pay attention to how the sun hit the property and how much of it there was, the amount and direction of water flow, and the amount and direction of wind. In a project involving people, a permaculturist might take an inventory of group resources in a site analysis and figure out ways to catch and store the energy of individuals so as to best benefit the group. As I biked around the island today, even the cold was invigorating. I could feel it stimulating my brain, clearing sloppy thoughts away as it demanded me to be present with it. I ended up down by New Harbor, which in summer is full of hundreds of boats, but which today was providing shelter for one, lone sailboat, its hull bright white against the winter ocean, a blue so deep one can't see beyond its surface. I was checking out the sea ducks in an unscientific way, wishing Sonya from EAT (who knows everything ) was there with me to tell me what species they were, when a fellow biker approached me. There aren't too many of us out here in February, so I knew immediately we had something in common. It turns out he lived on the sailboat moored offshore, and had actually been on it for the storm I missed while I was in California, a storm which dumped two feet of snow on the island, and in which the wind was clocked at 100 miles an hour! He was quite stoic about the experience, which sounded harrowing to me, telling me that he was scared for the boat, but not for his own safety. As I asked him questions about living on a boat, he told me of seeing a huge pod of dolphins off Watch Hill, RI last fall, and I mentioned the great white shark that entered an inlet off Woods Hole, MA last fall, both unusual occurences for these areas. Since we were getting along so well, I mentioned why I thought so many of our brothers and sisters in the animal kingdom seemed to be in strange places today, namely that humans were affecting earth's atmosphere to such an extent, whether it be from underwater military testing which effects dolphin sonar, lack of food due to overfishing, interruption of migration routes from sedimentation of rivers or oceanic freight traffic, or from climate change due to global warming.
The warm, easy vibes between me and my new friend ended immediately, and then I saw that the universe was "stacking functions" for me. Not only was I enjoying a sunny day on my bike, I was being given the opportunity to clarify my views to an extremely dubious audience, a person with the exact opposite views of myself about the state of earth and our reason for being here. But, and this is what made the conversation so exciting, the universe brought me someone with an extremely well-developed philosophy who had thought long and hard about the same issues that I had. On Block Island in February! I tried not to reel in shock when he told me that he thought that when animals showed up in strange places it meant that they were coming back to a place where they had been before, that this was a sign that the environment was healthy, or when he justified humans wasting resources by telling me how bears only took one bite out of a salmon before tossing it aside, or when he said the purpose of life on earth was to use the resources of the planet to get to another one because we were going to be hit by an asteroid, or that John Stossel reported on TV that there was plenty of room in the land fills and that we didn't need to worry about waste. His belief in social Darwinism was complete and his knowledge of the chemical processes which make up life was impressive. He was an articulate exponent of science who could not be swayed into considering that the instruments which we used to measure "evidence" could be infallible in the first place, or that there was anything beyond the physical, although now that I think of it, I wish I had thought to bring into our discussion the scientific fact that we can't see anything on the cellular level without a microscope! Telling him that I knew people who could "see" these things with their inner eye wouldn't have worked. I knew that this was not the right audience to introduce the idea that intuition is sometimes just as valid a way as gathering information as science. In doing so, I took timing into consideration, another factor in site analysis. A permaculturist takes timing into consideration when coming up with a design, creating a timeline based on an observance of the site in all seasons.
In this case, I knew that the timing to reveal much of what I believed wasn't right. I was able to recognize that the purpose of this conversation was for me to learn how to stay grounded, to connect with that neutral state that Starhawk told us about and not react emotionally to what he had to say out of anger or frustration, and with respect to him, he was a good listener who let me speak, listening to ideas which I knew he thought were ridiculous. I really felt like I was interacting with someone who genuinely wanted to engage. We weren't opponents, which has so often been the case for me in the past, we were two different paradigms clashing on the dock while the sea ducks quacked beneath us. Because I stayed neutral, I was able to "observe and interact," instead of becoming furious and storming away. I know I am stronger for it.
After this invigorating interlude I rode my bike to command central BI--Club Foster, we call it, the home of my friend John whose place is a hub for me and my friends. John does the layout for the BI Times and is truly "wired." If we need something, whether it be information, mechanical aid, or as so often happens at Club Foster, entertainment, we climb the stairs behind the newspaper office and enter his lair. My friend Abby was lying on the couch reading Bernard Malamud, which she kindly put down to chat with me. Abby is a reporter for the paper, a brilliant analyst and synthesizer of ideas. As someone who has to sit through hours of tedious meetings and make it comprehensible to the common reader, she has to be. She has had the opportunity to see what is missing from the various committees which run our town. The town board are all focused on reacting and containing, not in creating a vision for what their boards should and could achieve. What they need is someone to formulate this vision for them. Which got me to thinking about a project I want to start here on the island, something James Stark, co-founder of the Permaculture Institute and a guest speaker at EAT, mentioned during his talk. James encouraged us to think long term, instead of just focusing on the immediate problem on hand. He actually mentioned creating a 100 year vision for our community. Although I am not sure yet how to do this, ideas are fomenting in my cold-stimulated brain. I know that I don't want it to be my vision, I want it to be our vision. So I am going to keep thinking about how to go about doing this and do it! I am so excited!
Another conversation I had to today involves a dear friend of mine who moved away from the island last fall. I learned today that she has stage 4 breast cancer. Emily is someone who has been so important in my life and to many in our community. For me, she has been the living embodiment of The Goddess. A wise soul with the far-seeing eyes of an owl and the grace of a swan. My introduction to earth magic and ritual came from her. I felt like when she left, that a good deal of magic left Block Island. Many of us view her as our fairy godmother. Whatever happens to her, I know she will meet it with strength and grace. I ask all of you who feel moved to to send her healing energy. Blessed be.
Friday, February 18, 2005
My Cosmology...
...is ever-changing like the universe
is a spiral galaxy
is a snake swallowing its own tail
is a worm that contains both female and male in one body
My cosmology is fluid, I learn something new about it everyday.
I believe we are made of light, that our souls can exist in many dimensions
beyond the material.
I believe that the soul chooses an earthly incarnation to learn about love,
the guiding force on Earth, and that death is just as beautiful as birth,
we have just been scared into fearing it because we have lost our ability,
having bought into the mass illusion that we can't see anything beyond
the material plane.
I bet you believe in ghosts, don't you?
We are spirits in the material world, The Police sang, in the oh so materialistic 80s.
I believe that all souls end up in the same place.
Although it would be nice to have advanced (by this I mean having learned the lessons our soul needed to learn--I am not implying a hierarchy of souls) at death, it doesn't matter if one's soul hasn't learned. The soul will come back again and again until it does, and then it will move on, until there are no more lessons to be learned--then the soul will become one with the center.
This belief has enabled me to let go of feeling like a victim in my own life. When I realized that my soul was attracting the experiences to me that I needed, I was shocked, overwhelmed, overjoyed, and the most grateful I have ever been in my life, for this is when unconditional love moved in to take blame's place.
This belief has also lessened the pain I felt at witnessing the horrible things that happen all over the world--people killed by terrorists, children dying from starvation, genocide, even The Holocaust--although this is very difficult and makes some people angry when I try to explain it. The soul gets to choose. Some souls choose to sacrifice their bodies to wake up humanity, or to generate compassion. I even believe that some souls don't need as long an earthly incarnation as others. They may only be here for a few years, or even for a few months, leaving their mothers' bodies before the separation of birth. This has nothing to do with what we call "good" or "bad" karma. I don't think the soul punishes us, it only presents us with what we need to keep letting go. All I can say, is that we are caught up in so many cycles that we can't see, our lives, in which we are so deeply embedded, are part of the continual struggle for balance on earth, and within the universe. believe that we are here to realize that we are all one being, like mycelium, the fungal web which connects the roots of trees beneath the ground to the tips of the branches.
I believe that emotions are very wise teachers. They control us so completely we don't even know we're being controlled. Once we let go and learn to flow with them, we realize what they are doing, and then we have the choice to work with them, or to struggle upstream. If we struggle, they will never let us go. We will always be angry, jealous, or depressed.
Love is not an emotion. It is beyond emotion. Love isn't suited well by one word.
Love is everything.
I have stood inside redwood trees that were two thousand years old,
and I have stood inside Medieval cathedrals in France.
They felt the same.
I believe that addiction is a substitute for ritual.
Humans are capable of alignment with the sacred. We have just forgotten.
I believe that now is a time of remembering.
I know that the world of physics supports many of my ideas, but I'm sorry that I don't know the details, beyond that matter consists of both particle and wave simultaneously, and that the observer has the ability to effect her environment on a cellular level.
Perhaps if someone does, they could share more details.
I believe our thoughts create our reality.
I believe that time might be ending.
This makes me happy!
I do not believe in just sitting back and watching what happens. What I am saying is not an excuse to live and let live. It is just a call to see the earth from a hawk's point of view. To search for patterns, to recognize that we have the ability to make choices all the time which can effect the patterns which make up our world, but if you've heard the call to do something, I believe that if you don't, your soul will rebel against you. I believe that this is what we call suffering.
I believe in these words from The Gospel of Thomas, one of the gospels left out of the standard Bible on which many of us were raised.
If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.
I believe that for most of my life I have been attracting experiences to stop me from bringing forth what is inside me, and I believe that the underlying self-hatred which made me do this is tied to the hatred we feel as a species for what we are doing to the earth. I believe that the earth is worth saving, but I also believe that the earth will one day die. The death of the earth could be as beautiful as our own deaths, but when we hasten toward them by poisoning OUR BODY, the one we all share, then we will experience OUR DEATH as terrifying. I believe that forgiveness is the key to letting go of our self-hatred. We can walk through the door and experience unconditional love whenever we choose. That is why we came to earth. Please love yourselves. Please love our mother. I believe that, yes, time is running out. The time for action is now. So make a vow to do what you can. My vow to myself, and to you, is to no longer be invisible, to be a light in dark places. But if you fail, forgive yourself. We are all going to the same place.
is a spiral galaxy
is a snake swallowing its own tail
is a worm that contains both female and male in one body
My cosmology is fluid, I learn something new about it everyday.
I believe we are made of light, that our souls can exist in many dimensions
beyond the material.
I believe that the soul chooses an earthly incarnation to learn about love,
the guiding force on Earth, and that death is just as beautiful as birth,
we have just been scared into fearing it because we have lost our ability,
having bought into the mass illusion that we can't see anything beyond
the material plane.
I bet you believe in ghosts, don't you?
We are spirits in the material world, The Police sang, in the oh so materialistic 80s.
I believe that all souls end up in the same place.
Although it would be nice to have advanced (by this I mean having learned the lessons our soul needed to learn--I am not implying a hierarchy of souls) at death, it doesn't matter if one's soul hasn't learned. The soul will come back again and again until it does, and then it will move on, until there are no more lessons to be learned--then the soul will become one with the center.
This belief has enabled me to let go of feeling like a victim in my own life. When I realized that my soul was attracting the experiences to me that I needed, I was shocked, overwhelmed, overjoyed, and the most grateful I have ever been in my life, for this is when unconditional love moved in to take blame's place.
This belief has also lessened the pain I felt at witnessing the horrible things that happen all over the world--people killed by terrorists, children dying from starvation, genocide, even The Holocaust--although this is very difficult and makes some people angry when I try to explain it. The soul gets to choose. Some souls choose to sacrifice their bodies to wake up humanity, or to generate compassion. I even believe that some souls don't need as long an earthly incarnation as others. They may only be here for a few years, or even for a few months, leaving their mothers' bodies before the separation of birth. This has nothing to do with what we call "good" or "bad" karma. I don't think the soul punishes us, it only presents us with what we need to keep letting go. All I can say, is that we are caught up in so many cycles that we can't see, our lives, in which we are so deeply embedded, are part of the continual struggle for balance on earth, and within the universe. believe that we are here to realize that we are all one being, like mycelium, the fungal web which connects the roots of trees beneath the ground to the tips of the branches.
I believe that emotions are very wise teachers. They control us so completely we don't even know we're being controlled. Once we let go and learn to flow with them, we realize what they are doing, and then we have the choice to work with them, or to struggle upstream. If we struggle, they will never let us go. We will always be angry, jealous, or depressed.
Love is not an emotion. It is beyond emotion. Love isn't suited well by one word.
Love is everything.
I have stood inside redwood trees that were two thousand years old,
and I have stood inside Medieval cathedrals in France.
They felt the same.
I believe that addiction is a substitute for ritual.
Humans are capable of alignment with the sacred. We have just forgotten.
I believe that now is a time of remembering.
I know that the world of physics supports many of my ideas, but I'm sorry that I don't know the details, beyond that matter consists of both particle and wave simultaneously, and that the observer has the ability to effect her environment on a cellular level.
Perhaps if someone does, they could share more details.
I believe our thoughts create our reality.
I believe that time might be ending.
This makes me happy!
I do not believe in just sitting back and watching what happens. What I am saying is not an excuse to live and let live. It is just a call to see the earth from a hawk's point of view. To search for patterns, to recognize that we have the ability to make choices all the time which can effect the patterns which make up our world, but if you've heard the call to do something, I believe that if you don't, your soul will rebel against you. I believe that this is what we call suffering.
I believe in these words from The Gospel of Thomas, one of the gospels left out of the standard Bible on which many of us were raised.
If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.
I believe that for most of my life I have been attracting experiences to stop me from bringing forth what is inside me, and I believe that the underlying self-hatred which made me do this is tied to the hatred we feel as a species for what we are doing to the earth. I believe that the earth is worth saving, but I also believe that the earth will one day die. The death of the earth could be as beautiful as our own deaths, but when we hasten toward them by poisoning OUR BODY, the one we all share, then we will experience OUR DEATH as terrifying. I believe that forgiveness is the key to letting go of our self-hatred. We can walk through the door and experience unconditional love whenever we choose. That is why we came to earth. Please love yourselves. Please love our mother. I believe that, yes, time is running out. The time for action is now. So make a vow to do what you can. My vow to myself, and to you, is to no longer be invisible, to be a light in dark places. But if you fail, forgive yourself. We are all going to the same place.
The Least Change For The Greatest Effect
Permaculturists believe in searching for the least change that will have the greatest effect. This ties into another permie principle--thoughtful and protracted observation. Whether one is designing a garden, writing a book, teaching a class, or healing an illness, the permaculture approach is to spend as much time observing and thinking about the circumstances and situation before taking an action to alter them. In garden design, this would ideally be a full rotation of the earth around the sun, so that the designer can observe how wind, sun, and water effect the land in all seasons. Of course, when dealing with people, this may not be possible, especially in case of an emergency. Speed is sometimes of the utmost necessity--but this does not mean that an emt who has to act on the spot to save people's lives can't have a permacultural mindset having observed and thought about all the things that could occur in an emergency situation, or that a teacher can't do a site analysis of her classroom, instead of applying a standard curriculum that might not fit the needs of the group.
The spiral turns...I promised I would talk about GMOs, so I am winding my way around to doing so. Genetic engineering, which produces GMOS--or genetically modified organisms, is not an example of the least change for the greatest effect! And thoughtful and protracted observation has certainly not been a part of this huge change in the way our food is grown.
The following information is culled from two sources: a pamphlet put out by Californians For GE-Free Agriculture and The Earth Path, by Starhawk.
Genetic engineering is a new process used by scientists to insert genes from various organisms (human, plant, animal, bacteria or virus) into crop plants. It has been present in our food for only the last ten years, and differs fundamentally from traditional plant breeding in that it forces the exchange of genes across species barriers. This process does not occur in nature. For example, genetic engineers have inserted jellyfish and chicken genes into potatoes, and even human genes into rice. Currently, the two most common traits being genetically engineered into plants on the marketplace are 1. resistance to herbicides that would normally kill the crop, and 2. the ability to produce an insecticide that kills a wide spectrum of insects, including the targeted pest. When you go to the grocery store and buy cookes, crackers, taco shells, soft drinks, and salad dressings, you are most likely buying food that has been genetically engineered. The Grocery Manufactures of America estimate that 70 to 80 percent of the processed food on US supermarket shelves contains GE ingredients. The U.S. government decided in the mid-1990s that no new regulation needed to be passed for GMOs. The FDA decided that GE foods are "substantially equivalent" to other foods and do not need to be labeled as such. How can they know this if the technology has only been around for roughly ten years! We are only now learning the effects that toxic wastes and pesticides are having on our human bodies, and those of our animal brothers and sisters. Chernobyl, Love Canal, the near extinction of eagles because of DDT spraying, Agent Orange, Gulf War Syndrome-- I'm sure everyone can think of someone affected by environmental poisons. The U.S. government considers the use of chemical weapons on people to be a war crime. Why isn't this the case when it comes to our food supply? Thoughtful and protracted observation has obviously not been carried out here. Whether it is collusion with corporate greed that motivates our government, or a plot to kill us all off, or simply a misplaced trust in science, the religion of our soul-deprived state, we must insist that genetic engineering be called to a halt before irreparable damage is done to our earth, and thus, ourselves.
The companies who have been developing GMOs have chosen to focus on wind-pollinated crops. Monsanto has sued (and won) Percy Schmeiser, a farmer in Canada whose canola crop was contaminated by their genetically modified seed. This farmer didn't buy the seed! It blew into his fields and sprouted there! Monsanto was able to sue him because GE companies are patenting their seeds, forcing farmers to buy them every year instead of saving them from season to season, the traditional way since the beginning of agriculture. We do not own the earth. It is an outrage that our court system is supporting this. Already in Mexico, the wild stands of teosinte, the ancestor of corn, have been contaminated by wind pollination. This contamination means that the potential of that ancestor is now damaged or lost. Traditional plant breeders often go back to a more ancient strain in order to develop hardier, more disease resistant plants. With corn, this may no longer be possible. In addition, corn is a sacred plant to certain cultures. Contaminating the sacred plants of a people adds to the cultural degredation that globalization is carrying out on indigenous peoples all over the world.
Traditonal plant breeding does employ thoughtful and protracted observation so that the least change for the greatest effect can be accomplished. Traditionally, the plant breeder selects plants that are similar enough to produce offspring, then selects various offspring over many generations for desired traits. Any naturally occuring change will involve the whole organism so that breeding flaws will become apparent--and we have the opportunity to watch how the plant reacts in context to its environment. According to Dr. Barry Commoner, "Genetically engineered crops represent a huge uncontrolled experiment whose outcome is inherently unpredictable." What would the religion of science have to say about that? Isn't controlled experiment the way that science has been able to claim absolute authority over our lives?
So what do we do? I'll admit, this subject terrifies and depresses me. I feel assaulted when I go into the grocery store. Not eating processed food is an obvious answer, but since most people in the U.S. are probably still going to eat processed food, making this choice is only beneficial on an individual level, it still doesn't take into account the damage being done to the earth, physically and on the sacred level, or the exploitation that coporate giants are carrying out in developing countries. Mendocino County in California has banned the growth of genetically engineered crops, and there is a proposal to do the same in Sonoma County. I believe there are communities in Vermont that have done the same. If you live in an area where food is grown, this could be a good place to start organizing people to become aware of this issue in order to stop it. Take a stand. We owe it to ourselves. We owe it to the earth. There is no separation. And please, stop eating processed food right now!
The spiral turns...I promised I would talk about GMOs, so I am winding my way around to doing so. Genetic engineering, which produces GMOS--or genetically modified organisms, is not an example of the least change for the greatest effect! And thoughtful and protracted observation has certainly not been a part of this huge change in the way our food is grown.
The following information is culled from two sources: a pamphlet put out by Californians For GE-Free Agriculture and The Earth Path, by Starhawk.
Genetic engineering is a new process used by scientists to insert genes from various organisms (human, plant, animal, bacteria or virus) into crop plants. It has been present in our food for only the last ten years, and differs fundamentally from traditional plant breeding in that it forces the exchange of genes across species barriers. This process does not occur in nature. For example, genetic engineers have inserted jellyfish and chicken genes into potatoes, and even human genes into rice. Currently, the two most common traits being genetically engineered into plants on the marketplace are 1. resistance to herbicides that would normally kill the crop, and 2. the ability to produce an insecticide that kills a wide spectrum of insects, including the targeted pest. When you go to the grocery store and buy cookes, crackers, taco shells, soft drinks, and salad dressings, you are most likely buying food that has been genetically engineered. The Grocery Manufactures of America estimate that 70 to 80 percent of the processed food on US supermarket shelves contains GE ingredients. The U.S. government decided in the mid-1990s that no new regulation needed to be passed for GMOs. The FDA decided that GE foods are "substantially equivalent" to other foods and do not need to be labeled as such. How can they know this if the technology has only been around for roughly ten years! We are only now learning the effects that toxic wastes and pesticides are having on our human bodies, and those of our animal brothers and sisters. Chernobyl, Love Canal, the near extinction of eagles because of DDT spraying, Agent Orange, Gulf War Syndrome-- I'm sure everyone can think of someone affected by environmental poisons. The U.S. government considers the use of chemical weapons on people to be a war crime. Why isn't this the case when it comes to our food supply? Thoughtful and protracted observation has obviously not been carried out here. Whether it is collusion with corporate greed that motivates our government, or a plot to kill us all off, or simply a misplaced trust in science, the religion of our soul-deprived state, we must insist that genetic engineering be called to a halt before irreparable damage is done to our earth, and thus, ourselves.
The companies who have been developing GMOs have chosen to focus on wind-pollinated crops. Monsanto has sued (and won) Percy Schmeiser, a farmer in Canada whose canola crop was contaminated by their genetically modified seed. This farmer didn't buy the seed! It blew into his fields and sprouted there! Monsanto was able to sue him because GE companies are patenting their seeds, forcing farmers to buy them every year instead of saving them from season to season, the traditional way since the beginning of agriculture. We do not own the earth. It is an outrage that our court system is supporting this. Already in Mexico, the wild stands of teosinte, the ancestor of corn, have been contaminated by wind pollination. This contamination means that the potential of that ancestor is now damaged or lost. Traditional plant breeders often go back to a more ancient strain in order to develop hardier, more disease resistant plants. With corn, this may no longer be possible. In addition, corn is a sacred plant to certain cultures. Contaminating the sacred plants of a people adds to the cultural degredation that globalization is carrying out on indigenous peoples all over the world.
Traditonal plant breeding does employ thoughtful and protracted observation so that the least change for the greatest effect can be accomplished. Traditionally, the plant breeder selects plants that are similar enough to produce offspring, then selects various offspring over many generations for desired traits. Any naturally occuring change will involve the whole organism so that breeding flaws will become apparent--and we have the opportunity to watch how the plant reacts in context to its environment. According to Dr. Barry Commoner, "Genetically engineered crops represent a huge uncontrolled experiment whose outcome is inherently unpredictable." What would the religion of science have to say about that? Isn't controlled experiment the way that science has been able to claim absolute authority over our lives?
So what do we do? I'll admit, this subject terrifies and depresses me. I feel assaulted when I go into the grocery store. Not eating processed food is an obvious answer, but since most people in the U.S. are probably still going to eat processed food, making this choice is only beneficial on an individual level, it still doesn't take into account the damage being done to the earth, physically and on the sacred level, or the exploitation that coporate giants are carrying out in developing countries. Mendocino County in California has banned the growth of genetically engineered crops, and there is a proposal to do the same in Sonoma County. I believe there are communities in Vermont that have done the same. If you live in an area where food is grown, this could be a good place to start organizing people to become aware of this issue in order to stop it. Take a stand. We owe it to ourselves. We owe it to the earth. There is no separation. And please, stop eating processed food right now!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The Call
The Call
"The war is on," Nick hissed
in my ear tonight, in the darkest corner of Club Soda,
where a tarantula lives in a tank of fluorescent light.
We had all grown so used to the glow
we thought we looked alluring, but Nick
had crossed the line and become alarming,
gobbling onion rings and spilling more beer
down his shirt than down his throat.
"You want a beer?" he kept saying to me,
wiping the grease off his face.
"This is a culture of mass suicide."
He threw an onion ring at me
to see if I believed in him.
I caught and swallowed it in one bite.
"We have to build the web so
we have something to fall back on."
We laughed at the poison in our veins,
washing the grease down with more beer
until our eyes were glazed with a film of yeast,
yeast which ferments and rises
until it’s knocked back down
by hands who need bread to eat.
The first time grandmother spider spoke to me,
I was not wise enough to recognize the honor.
I was so afraid she would bite I trampled her.
I couldn’t see she was asking me to spin a new story,
and when I did, I was afraid the words
would never come. I didn’t know
I had all that was needed inside of me.
I thought my blood was ugly,
my organs polluted by years of self-hate.
I couldn’t hear the harmony
beneath the dissonance of toxic waste.
She could have given up on me,
swaddled me in silk so I’d never be able to speak,
but she snipped the threads that bound me,
forcing me into the open
where everyone could see my fear and pain.
When the lights went up at last call,
I stumbled.
Forced out the door,
I was shamed by starlight.
At first I was a victim and demanded my rights.
Give me back my freedom to die in my sleep! I cried.
Then I just cried.
Give me back the dark corners where I used to hide.
The war is on.
I refuse to fight.
There is silken thread inside me.
Catch hold as I leap.
"The war is on," Nick hissed
in my ear tonight, in the darkest corner of Club Soda,
where a tarantula lives in a tank of fluorescent light.
We had all grown so used to the glow
we thought we looked alluring, but Nick
had crossed the line and become alarming,
gobbling onion rings and spilling more beer
down his shirt than down his throat.
"You want a beer?" he kept saying to me,
wiping the grease off his face.
"This is a culture of mass suicide."
He threw an onion ring at me
to see if I believed in him.
I caught and swallowed it in one bite.
"We have to build the web so
we have something to fall back on."
We laughed at the poison in our veins,
washing the grease down with more beer
until our eyes were glazed with a film of yeast,
yeast which ferments and rises
until it’s knocked back down
by hands who need bread to eat.
The first time grandmother spider spoke to me,
I was not wise enough to recognize the honor.
I was so afraid she would bite I trampled her.
I couldn’t see she was asking me to spin a new story,
and when I did, I was afraid the words
would never come. I didn’t know
I had all that was needed inside of me.
I thought my blood was ugly,
my organs polluted by years of self-hate.
I couldn’t hear the harmony
beneath the dissonance of toxic waste.
She could have given up on me,
swaddled me in silk so I’d never be able to speak,
but she snipped the threads that bound me,
forcing me into the open
where everyone could see my fear and pain.
When the lights went up at last call,
I stumbled.
Forced out the door,
I was shamed by starlight.
At first I was a victim and demanded my rights.
Give me back my freedom to die in my sleep! I cried.
Then I just cried.
Give me back the dark corners where I used to hide.
The war is on.
I refuse to fight.
There is silken thread inside me.
Catch hold as I leap.
Monday, February 14, 2005
The Problem is the Solution
I just came across a great example of the permaculture principle, "the problem is the solution," while reading the magazine "Poets & Writers" this afternoon. Johnny Temple, the founder of indie press Akashic Books (publisher of my friend T Cooper's Some of the Parts), in addressing the sentiment expressed by the writer Paul Theroux that writer's today are being bullied into publicly prostituting themselves to sell books (or to get published in the first place), sees this as an opportunity for writers to regain creative control over their work, and to reach non-traditional audiences as they self-promote their work outside the literary community.
I certainly found this to be the case with my book of poems Siren. Of course I always dreamed of winning some award and having my name in Poets & Writers, but if that had been the case, I doubt if the wide variety of people in my community who read my book (carpenters, mothers, a professional golf caddy, my landlords, local assorted drunks, landscapers--all sorts of people who don't normally read poetry, let alone purchase a book, read my book, and judging by their feedback, were genuinely affected by it.) So--my problem of not being able to attract a publisher, was resolved by the solution of self-publishing, which had an even more satisfying result, one which is the underlying intent of permaculture--community-building.
Indeed, in ancient times the poet, was "the poet," the person who spoke for the community. (This idea came to me through the sublime Joy Harjo--please read her.) In fact, many scholars believe that Homer was an identity given to the poets who put together what we know as The Odyssey (many also believe that Homer was a woman). Poetry didn't move out of the realm of the oral until the invention of the printing press in the 14th century, from whence comes our first great "author," Geoffrey Chaucer, of The Canterbury Tales. Indeed, what we consider Standard English, was one of many dialects in use in England at the time Chaucer was writing. The Canterbury Tales were so popular as a written text that Chaucer's dialect (I believe it was East Wessex, although my academic memory has been growing dimmer) is the one from which modern English descended. In the 14th century, the standardization of the English language was a useful tool in community building, as the peasant class, speakers of the English vernacular, strove to define themselves against the French speaking Norman invaders who ruled Britain at the time.
My question is, does the insistence on literature which follows the rules and regulations of standard English best serve the creative spirit of building community? In my opinion, no. Remember reading Huck Finn in high school? Certainly not written in standard English, Twain's masterpiece is considered to be one of the greatest books in American literature, a book that helped our young nation define itself. There are many other works from the African-American literary tradition written in dialect that also fall into this category. Cane, by Jean Toomer, comes to mind, while in more recent times we have Alice Walker's The Color Purple.
When I lived in Hawaii, my boyfriend there told me of being ridiculed by the teachers for speaking pidgin. He, and most locals, grew up speaking two languages--standard English at school, and pidgin at home. I was amazed at how quickly he switched back and forth between the two, and knew that I had crossed under an invisible barrier when he let his guard down and began to speak pidgin to me.
Today in Hawaii there is a literary movement of writers who speak in pidgin, forming community around the language that they invented together out of the many cultural backgrounds which make up the modern day Hawaiian community. If you want to read an example of this, check out the books of Lois-Ann Yamanaka (Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater, Wild Meat & The Bully Burgers, Blu's Hanging, and Heads by Harry, her more recent book Father of the Four Passages uses more standard English than pidgin. She is one of my favorite writers! The point I am trying to make here, is that the local Hawaiian writers saw there was a problem--standard English --(the language of their oppressors) didn't reflect their lives. In fact, by using it, they were in some ways, agreeing to the contract their colonizers had set out for them, a contract which obviously no one asked them to sign. I know firsthand the degradation of spirit this collusion with their colonizers created in many local Hawaiians, even today. My novel, The Land of Curving Water, which will hopefully be in print soon, deals with this degradation. What was seen as a problem by those in power--(teachers and employers, even tourists who can't understand the pidgin of their trail guides, bartenders, and waiters)--the insistence on locals of speaking pidgin--has blossomed into today's Hawaiian cultural renaissance, complete with a thriving literary culture.
The problem is the solution! Remember that whenever you feel like banging your head against a brick wall in frustration! And remember, permaculture isn't just about agriculture, it is about forming "permanent culture." Human communities that adapt to their surroundings the way a river meanders toward the sea, or the way a weasel's coat changes from brown to white in winter, or the way that a trees branches stretch out to catch the light. Observing the people and place you find yourself in is the key to forming permanent culture, not by preserving it in museums or in a standardized textbook which we call history. So tell your stories in whatever way feels right!
I certainly found this to be the case with my book of poems Siren. Of course I always dreamed of winning some award and having my name in Poets & Writers, but if that had been the case, I doubt if the wide variety of people in my community who read my book (carpenters, mothers, a professional golf caddy, my landlords, local assorted drunks, landscapers--all sorts of people who don't normally read poetry, let alone purchase a book, read my book, and judging by their feedback, were genuinely affected by it.) So--my problem of not being able to attract a publisher, was resolved by the solution of self-publishing, which had an even more satisfying result, one which is the underlying intent of permaculture--community-building.
Indeed, in ancient times the poet, was "the poet," the person who spoke for the community. (This idea came to me through the sublime Joy Harjo--please read her.) In fact, many scholars believe that Homer was an identity given to the poets who put together what we know as The Odyssey (many also believe that Homer was a woman). Poetry didn't move out of the realm of the oral until the invention of the printing press in the 14th century, from whence comes our first great "author," Geoffrey Chaucer, of The Canterbury Tales. Indeed, what we consider Standard English, was one of many dialects in use in England at the time Chaucer was writing. The Canterbury Tales were so popular as a written text that Chaucer's dialect (I believe it was East Wessex, although my academic memory has been growing dimmer) is the one from which modern English descended. In the 14th century, the standardization of the English language was a useful tool in community building, as the peasant class, speakers of the English vernacular, strove to define themselves against the French speaking Norman invaders who ruled Britain at the time.
My question is, does the insistence on literature which follows the rules and regulations of standard English best serve the creative spirit of building community? In my opinion, no. Remember reading Huck Finn in high school? Certainly not written in standard English, Twain's masterpiece is considered to be one of the greatest books in American literature, a book that helped our young nation define itself. There are many other works from the African-American literary tradition written in dialect that also fall into this category. Cane, by Jean Toomer, comes to mind, while in more recent times we have Alice Walker's The Color Purple.
When I lived in Hawaii, my boyfriend there told me of being ridiculed by the teachers for speaking pidgin. He, and most locals, grew up speaking two languages--standard English at school, and pidgin at home. I was amazed at how quickly he switched back and forth between the two, and knew that I had crossed under an invisible barrier when he let his guard down and began to speak pidgin to me.
Today in Hawaii there is a literary movement of writers who speak in pidgin, forming community around the language that they invented together out of the many cultural backgrounds which make up the modern day Hawaiian community. If you want to read an example of this, check out the books of Lois-Ann Yamanaka (Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater, Wild Meat & The Bully Burgers, Blu's Hanging, and Heads by Harry, her more recent book Father of the Four Passages uses more standard English than pidgin. She is one of my favorite writers! The point I am trying to make here, is that the local Hawaiian writers saw there was a problem--standard English --(the language of their oppressors) didn't reflect their lives. In fact, by using it, they were in some ways, agreeing to the contract their colonizers had set out for them, a contract which obviously no one asked them to sign. I know firsthand the degradation of spirit this collusion with their colonizers created in many local Hawaiians, even today. My novel, The Land of Curving Water, which will hopefully be in print soon, deals with this degradation. What was seen as a problem by those in power--(teachers and employers, even tourists who can't understand the pidgin of their trail guides, bartenders, and waiters)--the insistence on locals of speaking pidgin--has blossomed into today's Hawaiian cultural renaissance, complete with a thriving literary culture.
The problem is the solution! Remember that whenever you feel like banging your head against a brick wall in frustration! And remember, permaculture isn't just about agriculture, it is about forming "permanent culture." Human communities that adapt to their surroundings the way a river meanders toward the sea, or the way a weasel's coat changes from brown to white in winter, or the way that a trees branches stretch out to catch the light. Observing the people and place you find yourself in is the key to forming permanent culture, not by preserving it in museums or in a standardized textbook which we call history. So tell your stories in whatever way feels right!
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Defining Permaculture
Before I get into defining permaculture, I'd like to delve into how I came to find myself in a permaculture course this winter.
For a very long time my life was dominated by depression. I would say this was the case from about the age of 15 to age 35, although when I really look back, I think I was born this way. I wouldn't say that at age 37 I have completely overcome depression, but it is no longer the dominant factor in my life. A variety of factors have gone into my healing, one of them being the realization that it was natural that I ended up depressed in the first place, considering the state of the world I was born into--a sick planet reeling from wars, pollution, fear, and rage. My depression was a reaction to a sick world, a place, that when I scan back into the recesses of childhood, never felt right. This is not about being a victim. It has nothing to do with anything that was done to me, I am just looking at depression as a symptom of the sickness of the world that has manifested in human bodies, probably in all sorts of bodies--do animals at the zoo seem happy? Do the trees on your city block coated with soot look wan?
We are creatures made out of the earth. Even the Bible agrees. Once I realized this fully my depression made sense and I was able to begin to let it go. Still, I knew that I had to take action in some way, to become fully engaged with life, which, on a planet that seems like it's dying, is difficult if one is fully open and sensitive to this pain. Even more profound, was the feeling of gratitude that came over me as I began to realize that depression was a gift that had been given to me--an opportunity to learn, to grow into a more balanced human being. I want to talk about this more in another post, but for now I want to get back to the skin and bones of permaculture.
Isolating myself on Block Island has definitely been a reaction to the ugliness of the mainland. For the first few years I was out here I made pretty frequent trips to the mainland, which tapered off as the years went on. It got to a point where I wasn't going off unless absolutely necessary, and when I did I dreaded it. I think I didn't go anywhere besides my parents' home in CT and maybe a day trip to Wakefield for three years. I talked about my dislike (fear really) of the mainland with my healer and friend, Maria. How I just got so depressed by the way the mainland looked--the soulless strip malls and fast-paced highways. She told me that if she focused on those things she herself would not be able to go on. She simply chose not to participate in their reality (by not shopping there and by viewing them as temporary). This was a big shift for me. I began to tell myself whenever I got upset at how ugly everything was that it would disappear someday. I was even glad about how badly constructed everything was because that meant it would decay quicker. However, the earth was still being polluted and destroyed by these buildings, by this system that takes more than it gives in the name of hoarding profits instead of sharing the surplus that would be available to us if we were living in pre-industrial days.
Although the poetry and novels I have been working on for the past ten years have been healing for me, and my intent in writing to them is to heal people, and to offer my words to the earth as atonement for what we have done to her, not many people have read them as I have had a hard time getting commercially published. I needed to take more direct action.
So I found myself last January at Earth Activist Training, a permaculture course like no other, full of joy and despair and magic and hardcore activists who have been embroiled in the global justice movement. These people blew me away! (For those interested in learning more about this movement I recommend Starhawk's book "Webs of Power: Notes from the Global Uprising."
EAT was taught by three incredible people: Starhawk, Penny Livingston-Stark, and Erik Olson. The following explanation of permaculture is what I gleaned from their teachings.
To paraphrase Starhawk: "Permaculture is a form of ecological design developed in the 1970s by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren. The term includes the phrases "permanent agriculture" and "permanent culture." It includes principles, practices and ethics that enable us to design sustainable environments that function like natural systems--for growing food but also for growing human community."
The above definition is from another Starhawk book I highly recommend "The Earth Path: Grounding Your Spirit in the Rhythms of Nature."
To quote Penny: "the ethical basis for permaculture rests upon care for the earth--provisions for all life systems to continue and multiply, including access by humans, domestic animals and wildlife to resources necessary for their existence, not the accumulation of wealth, power, or land beyond their needs. "Give away surplus" is a permaculture maxim. Observing the general rule of nature--that cooperative species and associations of self-supporting species make healthy communities, permaculture practicioners value cooperation and recognition of each person's unique contributions rather than standardization and competition."
At first I didn't see how I could fit permaculture into my current living situation, since I caretake a condominium. I have the owners' rules and the condo association's rules reigning me in from gardening, but as the course went on I began to understand that permaculture isn't just about growing food, it is a whole system of thinking, one that I could feel good about embracing, and inspired by the amazing stories of Erik Olson, guerilla gardener extraordinaire, I began to see ways that I could fit permaculture into my life right now, just by changing the way that I thought about power, even if it was only in the way that I reacted to authority. (Although I do plan on starting a wormbin in the basement. NObody goes down there except for me anyway!)
As Penny explained, permaculture came into being from an awareness of the ecological crisis we are facing on earth. It is a way for people to break free from the dying system and use the land around their homes to grow food. The more productive the areas around people's homes are, the more feasible it is to save the remaining wild lands and forests from destruction. I was scared a lot of the time at EAT. While nobody knows exactly when or how our system will self-destruct, no one there doubted that it was going to happen. Up until this point in my life I have been documenting the feeling of apocalypse. After EAT I feel like I am equipped to become part of the solution, which brings me to the first permaculture principle I would like to share.
THE PROBLEM IS THE SOLUTION. The ecological crisis we are now in is leading us to work together to heal the planet. It is re-opening our senses to the animals and plants who share our world. Instead of cursing those who led us to this place, we can appreciate them as part of our growth process, and be glad that we have realized what needs to be done before it's too late. (in earth time at least. I have begun to perceive time as illusion lately. this does not mean that I don't think immediate action is not necessary! It just means that I am aware of the cyclical nature of everything. All dies, and this is reborn. Our fear makes us resist this process so that we no longer allow ourselves to die gracefully, and we are certainly not allowing the earth to go in grace! We are speeding up her demise. And maybe once we realize that we are killing ourselves with toxic wastes and pesticides, we will realize we need to heal the earth if we are to survive. Once again, the problem is the solution!
When I left EAT I knew I had been transformed forever on the last day as we sat in the ground in our circle, giving back to the earth the energy we had raised. I knew this even more fully as we drove along the highway through Santa Rosa. While normally I would have been dulled into a stupour by the strip malls, my eye saw right past them to the rows of trees planted along the highways! The moment I realized this was one of the most joyous of my life! For the first time ever I saw the beauty right in front of me, instead of letting that beauty be ruined by what was ugly.
Thanks to the first two people to post messages here. I really appreciate this forum to share our ideas. So thank you to the spider goddess for putting the world wide web into place! My friend Jill mentioned GMOs in her update from New Zealand, which sounds like an incredibly aware place. It is good to know that critical mass is already in effect some place on the planet. Thanks Jill! Tomorrow I will talk about GMOS. So get ready....
peace,
whitewave
For a very long time my life was dominated by depression. I would say this was the case from about the age of 15 to age 35, although when I really look back, I think I was born this way. I wouldn't say that at age 37 I have completely overcome depression, but it is no longer the dominant factor in my life. A variety of factors have gone into my healing, one of them being the realization that it was natural that I ended up depressed in the first place, considering the state of the world I was born into--a sick planet reeling from wars, pollution, fear, and rage. My depression was a reaction to a sick world, a place, that when I scan back into the recesses of childhood, never felt right. This is not about being a victim. It has nothing to do with anything that was done to me, I am just looking at depression as a symptom of the sickness of the world that has manifested in human bodies, probably in all sorts of bodies--do animals at the zoo seem happy? Do the trees on your city block coated with soot look wan?
We are creatures made out of the earth. Even the Bible agrees. Once I realized this fully my depression made sense and I was able to begin to let it go. Still, I knew that I had to take action in some way, to become fully engaged with life, which, on a planet that seems like it's dying, is difficult if one is fully open and sensitive to this pain. Even more profound, was the feeling of gratitude that came over me as I began to realize that depression was a gift that had been given to me--an opportunity to learn, to grow into a more balanced human being. I want to talk about this more in another post, but for now I want to get back to the skin and bones of permaculture.
Isolating myself on Block Island has definitely been a reaction to the ugliness of the mainland. For the first few years I was out here I made pretty frequent trips to the mainland, which tapered off as the years went on. It got to a point where I wasn't going off unless absolutely necessary, and when I did I dreaded it. I think I didn't go anywhere besides my parents' home in CT and maybe a day trip to Wakefield for three years. I talked about my dislike (fear really) of the mainland with my healer and friend, Maria. How I just got so depressed by the way the mainland looked--the soulless strip malls and fast-paced highways. She told me that if she focused on those things she herself would not be able to go on. She simply chose not to participate in their reality (by not shopping there and by viewing them as temporary). This was a big shift for me. I began to tell myself whenever I got upset at how ugly everything was that it would disappear someday. I was even glad about how badly constructed everything was because that meant it would decay quicker. However, the earth was still being polluted and destroyed by these buildings, by this system that takes more than it gives in the name of hoarding profits instead of sharing the surplus that would be available to us if we were living in pre-industrial days.
Although the poetry and novels I have been working on for the past ten years have been healing for me, and my intent in writing to them is to heal people, and to offer my words to the earth as atonement for what we have done to her, not many people have read them as I have had a hard time getting commercially published. I needed to take more direct action.
So I found myself last January at Earth Activist Training, a permaculture course like no other, full of joy and despair and magic and hardcore activists who have been embroiled in the global justice movement. These people blew me away! (For those interested in learning more about this movement I recommend Starhawk's book "Webs of Power: Notes from the Global Uprising."
EAT was taught by three incredible people: Starhawk, Penny Livingston-Stark, and Erik Olson. The following explanation of permaculture is what I gleaned from their teachings.
To paraphrase Starhawk: "Permaculture is a form of ecological design developed in the 1970s by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren. The term includes the phrases "permanent agriculture" and "permanent culture." It includes principles, practices and ethics that enable us to design sustainable environments that function like natural systems--for growing food but also for growing human community."
The above definition is from another Starhawk book I highly recommend "The Earth Path: Grounding Your Spirit in the Rhythms of Nature."
To quote Penny: "the ethical basis for permaculture rests upon care for the earth--provisions for all life systems to continue and multiply, including access by humans, domestic animals and wildlife to resources necessary for their existence, not the accumulation of wealth, power, or land beyond their needs. "Give away surplus" is a permaculture maxim. Observing the general rule of nature--that cooperative species and associations of self-supporting species make healthy communities, permaculture practicioners value cooperation and recognition of each person's unique contributions rather than standardization and competition."
At first I didn't see how I could fit permaculture into my current living situation, since I caretake a condominium. I have the owners' rules and the condo association's rules reigning me in from gardening, but as the course went on I began to understand that permaculture isn't just about growing food, it is a whole system of thinking, one that I could feel good about embracing, and inspired by the amazing stories of Erik Olson, guerilla gardener extraordinaire, I began to see ways that I could fit permaculture into my life right now, just by changing the way that I thought about power, even if it was only in the way that I reacted to authority. (Although I do plan on starting a wormbin in the basement. NObody goes down there except for me anyway!)
As Penny explained, permaculture came into being from an awareness of the ecological crisis we are facing on earth. It is a way for people to break free from the dying system and use the land around their homes to grow food. The more productive the areas around people's homes are, the more feasible it is to save the remaining wild lands and forests from destruction. I was scared a lot of the time at EAT. While nobody knows exactly when or how our system will self-destruct, no one there doubted that it was going to happen. Up until this point in my life I have been documenting the feeling of apocalypse. After EAT I feel like I am equipped to become part of the solution, which brings me to the first permaculture principle I would like to share.
THE PROBLEM IS THE SOLUTION. The ecological crisis we are now in is leading us to work together to heal the planet. It is re-opening our senses to the animals and plants who share our world. Instead of cursing those who led us to this place, we can appreciate them as part of our growth process, and be glad that we have realized what needs to be done before it's too late. (in earth time at least. I have begun to perceive time as illusion lately. this does not mean that I don't think immediate action is not necessary! It just means that I am aware of the cyclical nature of everything. All dies, and this is reborn. Our fear makes us resist this process so that we no longer allow ourselves to die gracefully, and we are certainly not allowing the earth to go in grace! We are speeding up her demise. And maybe once we realize that we are killing ourselves with toxic wastes and pesticides, we will realize we need to heal the earth if we are to survive. Once again, the problem is the solution!
When I left EAT I knew I had been transformed forever on the last day as we sat in the ground in our circle, giving back to the earth the energy we had raised. I knew this even more fully as we drove along the highway through Santa Rosa. While normally I would have been dulled into a stupour by the strip malls, my eye saw right past them to the rows of trees planted along the highways! The moment I realized this was one of the most joyous of my life! For the first time ever I saw the beauty right in front of me, instead of letting that beauty be ruined by what was ugly.
Thanks to the first two people to post messages here. I really appreciate this forum to share our ideas. So thank you to the spider goddess for putting the world wide web into place! My friend Jill mentioned GMOs in her update from New Zealand, which sounds like an incredibly aware place. It is good to know that critical mass is already in effect some place on the planet. Thanks Jill! Tomorrow I will talk about GMOS. So get ready....
peace,
whitewave
Friday, February 11, 2005
I Call My Tribe
My parents named me Jennifer. I was born in the Tachikawa Air Force Base in Tokorozawa, Japan, on the island of Honshu, surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. My parents said they chose my name because they liked the way it sounded. While this simple explanation may be perfectly true, the name they chose for me has a deeper resonance which has been revealed to me over the years as I have changed and grown, as I have dropped leaves and grown roots, as my branches have been tossed and tumbled in the stream of life. The name Jennifer is derived from Guinevere, King Arthur's Queen. In Welsh it is Ghwenyvar, which means "white wave," or "rough water."
I have always been attracted to the sea. For reasons that many don't understand, I have isolated myself on an island. Sometimes the waves seem to limit me, but most of the time I feel them expanding my consciousness as they spread across the planet. Living here, one can never forget them. They touch all the senses--I watch them crash and reform from high on the bluffs, I listen to them thunder or lap at the shore on the beach in front of my house, I smell and taste their salt on my skin, and I swim in them--ducking under to explore the world underneath, or riding them to shore.
Air, Fire, Water, and Earth, are all part of a wave to me. The fifth element, spirit, is the one that enables me to weave the elements together, the wave of knowing that passes through me when I let go of my fears and concerns about my daily grind and feel my connection to every being on Earth.
It has not been an easy journey.
Some of you have read my book "Siren," which documents the beginning of my spiritual awakening to the global apocalypse which is now unfolding, in a personal way. It is a book full of cracks through which pain seeps out on every page. While I tried to end the book with a vision of hope, I didn't feel it at the time I wrote it. I'm not sure why I ended the book on a note of hope. All I can say is that the poems just come to me. I felt despair every day. I felt that extinction of every creature on the planet, including humans. I was ashamed of who I was and what my kind were doing to the earth. I felt that I had no choice but to sit back and watch the world die.
As I have become more balanced emotionally and physically, the synchronicities have been coming more rapidly. One of them that came--a great turning point for me--was the etymology of the world apocalypse. Contrary to the visions of annihilation that we associate with the word, apocalypse, etymologically speaking, means "the lifting of the veil." The word is derived from the name of the sea nymph Callypso, in the Odyssey, who offered to lift the veil between the two worlds for Odysseus by giving him immortality.
This was a great gift to me. I began to see how we humans have internalized materialism to such a degree that we are unable to see that we live in a multidimensional universe. The lifting of the veil that is occuring in our time (how incredible to be alive now!) will allow us to perceive dimensions beyond the physical. We (meaning everyone) will realize that we are part of a web. We will realize that we are the ones that weave the world, and as we let go of our fears, we will begin to do this in a conscious manner, instead of blindly. What kind of world do you want to weave with me? One where we live in peace with ourselves and with the earth, or one where we continue to kill ourselves and our bountiful home, who gives us everything we need, and more. So much we can't even see anymore that we're not giving back, only taking.
I recently completed a course called Earth Activist Training, a synthesis of permaculture, activism, and magic, magic being the changing of consciousness at will. It is my intent in this blog to outline the principles of permaculture, a name for a system of thought which includes the concepts of "permanent agriculture" and "permanent culture," while at the same time personalizing my struggles to live in balance on an imbalanced earth. In my next entry I will delve into defining permaculture in more detail.
In the meantime, thank you for reading these words. I hope you find sustenance and hope here and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
My name is Whitewave. Sometimes I am known as Whispering Shadow. Tell me, what do you hear? I am there with you in the dark, and I will break with you on the beach.
I call my tribe!
I have always been attracted to the sea. For reasons that many don't understand, I have isolated myself on an island. Sometimes the waves seem to limit me, but most of the time I feel them expanding my consciousness as they spread across the planet. Living here, one can never forget them. They touch all the senses--I watch them crash and reform from high on the bluffs, I listen to them thunder or lap at the shore on the beach in front of my house, I smell and taste their salt on my skin, and I swim in them--ducking under to explore the world underneath, or riding them to shore.
Air, Fire, Water, and Earth, are all part of a wave to me. The fifth element, spirit, is the one that enables me to weave the elements together, the wave of knowing that passes through me when I let go of my fears and concerns about my daily grind and feel my connection to every being on Earth.
It has not been an easy journey.
Some of you have read my book "Siren," which documents the beginning of my spiritual awakening to the global apocalypse which is now unfolding, in a personal way. It is a book full of cracks through which pain seeps out on every page. While I tried to end the book with a vision of hope, I didn't feel it at the time I wrote it. I'm not sure why I ended the book on a note of hope. All I can say is that the poems just come to me. I felt despair every day. I felt that extinction of every creature on the planet, including humans. I was ashamed of who I was and what my kind were doing to the earth. I felt that I had no choice but to sit back and watch the world die.
As I have become more balanced emotionally and physically, the synchronicities have been coming more rapidly. One of them that came--a great turning point for me--was the etymology of the world apocalypse. Contrary to the visions of annihilation that we associate with the word, apocalypse, etymologically speaking, means "the lifting of the veil." The word is derived from the name of the sea nymph Callypso, in the Odyssey, who offered to lift the veil between the two worlds for Odysseus by giving him immortality.
This was a great gift to me. I began to see how we humans have internalized materialism to such a degree that we are unable to see that we live in a multidimensional universe. The lifting of the veil that is occuring in our time (how incredible to be alive now!) will allow us to perceive dimensions beyond the physical. We (meaning everyone) will realize that we are part of a web. We will realize that we are the ones that weave the world, and as we let go of our fears, we will begin to do this in a conscious manner, instead of blindly. What kind of world do you want to weave with me? One where we live in peace with ourselves and with the earth, or one where we continue to kill ourselves and our bountiful home, who gives us everything we need, and more. So much we can't even see anymore that we're not giving back, only taking.
I recently completed a course called Earth Activist Training, a synthesis of permaculture, activism, and magic, magic being the changing of consciousness at will. It is my intent in this blog to outline the principles of permaculture, a name for a system of thought which includes the concepts of "permanent agriculture" and "permanent culture," while at the same time personalizing my struggles to live in balance on an imbalanced earth. In my next entry I will delve into defining permaculture in more detail.
In the meantime, thank you for reading these words. I hope you find sustenance and hope here and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
My name is Whitewave. Sometimes I am known as Whispering Shadow. Tell me, what do you hear? I am there with you in the dark, and I will break with you on the beach.
I call my tribe!
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