Bird by Bird: Anne Lamott's Gift to Writers

My sister gave me Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott's treatise on writing and life, that made me laugh from cover to cover. http://www.authorsontheweb.com/features/bird-by-bird.asp

Barbie had worn it soft from numerous rereads as a kind of bible on life that she had suggested I read for some time. Finally my sis caught up with me on a family visit over Christmas and gave me her blood copy. What a gift. She handed it to me as if releasing a child in my care. This made me even more anxious to read it. Barbie is not prone to cult worship.

The advice in Bird by Bird is superb, crafted out of Lamott's life's struggles, with many good ideas for creating character, plot and dialogue. She begins with this gem in Chapter One, Getting Started: "...good writing is about telling the truth. We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason they write so very little. But we do."

Anne encourages "shitty first drafts" from which we hone the final decent drafts. She gave an example of how she begins with the one-inch frame assignment into which you write about your childhood, for example, just letting it come without the critic that haunts your writing space. In one she wrote about school lunches and rambled on until she saw the boy who always stood against the fence on the playground, the one with the muddy shoes from walking off the sidewalk to avoid notice. That is the book she will write... about the boy who stood against the fence.

Other salient advice that no one wants to hear but must: few of us will be published but all of us will be enriched. Contrary to publication curing our need for accomplisment or paying the bills, Anne poignantly describes how publication gave her no satistfaction at all, and not until her fourth publication did she come close to paying bills with her royalties. But what she does describe is coming to know oneself and being present in your own life...noticing, writing it down for your family and friends...for posterity.

After reading Bird by Bird, I kind of felt settled about the whole publication issue and began to view my writing as a life, not a destination. Maybe this is what my sister gave me for Christmas.

That we should all have sisters like my Barbara Gay and writers like Anne Lamott to remind us why we write in the first place.

Happy writing!
Susan

P.S. You have to read Bird by Bird to learn how the title came to be the core of Lamott's wisdom.

Golden Ocean

Cliffs of Moher
Near Doolin, Ireland
Photograph by Heather Williams


I have been advised by many writers that reading from the great masterpieces of literature, popular authors and what accomplished writers have to say about writing is a key to becoming an effective writer.

This I have taken to heart. What a task. Can you imagine how hard it is to treat myself to great stories, memorable characters under my comforter with a mug of hot tea or fresh ground coffee? Aye, what a labor.

Along the way, I picked up some books on tape as well. For me-a visually driven learner-listening, learning how a great writer draws my imagination forward in my mind's eye, has helped me immeasurably. Besides being very entertaining, it is helping recover words and expressions long buried in my brain. Popular culture tends to dull the imagination whereas great literature sharpens the relief.

From Patrick O'Brien's great book, The Golden Ocean, I pulled these gems over the weekend. Listen:

"dark patch of ruffled sea"
"the sun pierced in shafts through heavy clouds"
"stood mute and submissive"
"unctuous light"
"burst with turgid plums"
"vapid conversation"
"uncommon elegant notion"
"harrying visions of treasure"
"pierced through all his disregarded clamour"
"faint movement of the air"
"purple land stretched low across the sky"

The Golden Ocean, Patrick O'Brien, 1956
Performed by John Franklyn-Robbins

Ghosts

Being a writer seems to be a lot like fishing. You bait your hook and cast it into the sea of publishers and editors hoping for a nibble. The lure of catching "the big one" entices. There is the fear of sharks (critics and the discerning public) and shipwreck, the possibility that the winds will shift perhaps still (loss of drive and dogged determination to keep writing for its sake only).

This weekend I rewrote a chapter from a draft of my first novel and submitted it to the Wallace Stegner Fellowship competition at Stanford and to the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown; entered short stories for the Thomas Wolfe and John Steinbeck prize at the NC Writers Network (Davidson College) and San Jose State University respectively.

Part of my writing practice is reading, reading a lot from the greats. I've reread William Faulkner's The Bear, rejoining Ike McCaslin and Old Ben with a opening run-on but lucid Faulkner utterance; Thomas Wolfe (Look Homeward Angel) and sat in the crib with Eugene feeling his absolute frustration at not being able to utter a word but understanding everything; Hemingway (The Old Man and the Sea for short story) feeling the weight of the Marlin in Santiago's old but competent and determined hands: the big fish is metaphor for my new novel.

Then on to sterling prose with Margaret Atwood (I cannot reread Oryx and Crake however; too depressing,a dystopia; her book reviews and essays in Writing with Intent so crackling sharp and funny); John O'Hara (short story collections) which I thought rather strange stories; and Eudora Welty (short story). I also reread Sacred Ground by Barbara Wood (historical fiction). For dessert I rode with Buck in his desolation on the train North in Jack London's Call of the Wild. I studied how characters are shaped by the masters of my craft. How did plot unfold, scene take up residence in my imagination; how was the theme woven and magnified?

Pat Conroy's The Water is Wide is a textbook on character. I am listening to this book as a recording. I've learned that the reader can make or break whether a novel's true brilliance is conveyed. In this rendition of Conroy's 1972 popular book, Tom Stechschulte reads. His long acting career lends to his ability to talk like SC black children living on a remote island and mostly illiterate. Conroy's work utilizes metaphor and simile well throughout a coming of age tale based on real experiences of Conroy as a teacher.

Recently I found a CD of Eudora Welty reading three of her more famous short stories, among them, "Powerhouse" based on the bluesman Fats Waller. I am trying to learn the art of short story. She is one of the best and so I treated myself to a Eudora Welty afternoon complete with a nice cabernet. I cuddled up on a couch to listen to her molasses-flowing Mississipi drawal...this last word in Welty's mouth is voluptuosly round, guttural. You have to move your lower jaw in a 360-degree circle. Try it. DDRRRAAAAAWWWL. Wonderful! She make me laugh hard.

Welty's extraordinary skill at developing character and setting a scene transcends to mastery from the first sentence. She lived most of her life in Jackson, Mississipi. To me Welty is the Rembrandt of the word, painting characters so real you feel like you're right there in the bar with Powerhouse or the beauty parlor with Leona who has the scoop on everybody in town. Listen: "Powerhouse is playing. He's here in town from the city. Powerhouse and his key board. Powerhouse and his Tasmanians. Think of the things he calls himself. There's no one in the world like him. You can't tell what he is."

Go to http://www.caedmonaudio.com to order it. Also check out the Eudora Welty Foundation: http://www.eudorawelty.org/.

This Thanksgiving weekend I transcended into some other level with my writing practice. I am now possessed totally. When my friends are talking I am thinking, That would make a good title, or Look, here's a character to incorporate. I go around thinking about the characters in the stories I have been working on. They now occupy every room, even my bedroom. I think they whisper to me while I sleep. Like ghosts they waft about my house.

~Susan, On the road...somewhere.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

In honor of my father, Lt. Col. Edward Buell Feathers, Retired, and my former husband, Thomas E. Williams who fought in Viet Nam, and all the men and women who put their lives on the line so that I can enjoy the freedoms and Liberty that are the envy of the world's peoples and governments. There are no words to thank you appropriately. But I do offer it evenso. And from my heart.

This day causes me to reflect on the persistence of war....

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only." ~ Chapter One, "Recalled to Life", a Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

Chilling how true these words, written so many years before WWII, were true for that war, and ring true for Korea, for Viet Nam, for the Gulf War, and now for the Afganistan and Iraq wars.

Men get caught up in wars that princes plan, and women and children by association. All suffer whether the "victors" (for no death make us victors) or the defeated, all lose in war.

Still, we pause to honor the warriors among us who have gone forth with courage, or at best hope, for a good outcome. To our fathers, husbands, brothers and sons; our mothers, wives, sisters and daughters; our cousins, our friends and lovers we give honor to you today.

But we do not honor war. No. We honor good relations between people, where Liberty is honored for each of us, or freely given up for a good we all agree to protect.

Here in America, we agree to respect the liberty of each other and strive within the complexity of relationships that trust requires. We are very young at this, imperfect in our implementation. We trust that providence gives us time to learn to live by the high calling of Liberty. Perhaps then we can even extend that relationship globally. We strive for that, but until we can do it at home, within our own borders, we will be as children in the courts of law abroad.

I live in hope that before I die I will see an end to war as a means to resolve conflict in our world, a time when reason prevails and thoughtful dialogue is our most powerful tool - a time when we are warriors of the word.

Knowing how much is at stake, how could we strive for less?

Veteran's Day 2006

Down for the Count

Down for the Count:
On October 27, 2006
In the United States of America

2,810 U.S. Military Fatalities in Iraq (thru today)

343 U.S. Military Fatalities in Afghanistan (thru today)

20,687 U.S. Military Maimed in Iraq (DoD Update: 10-Sep-06)

49,692 Iraqis Reported Killed (thru today; source: Iraq Body Count)

5.6 hectares per person U.S. Carbon Footprint (Global Footprint Network ‘06)
0.42 hectares per person Africa Carbon Footprint (Global Footprint Network ‘06)
2.2 hectares per person World Footprint (Global Footprint Network ‘06)
1.8 hectares per person Earth’s Biocapacity (Global Footprint Network ‘06)
(One hectare = 100 acres)

64% voting-age citizens voted in ‘04 elections (‘06 US Census report)
72% voting-age citizens registered to vote (‘06 US Census Report)
81.3% $100K over income voted in ’04 elections (‘06 US Census report)
48.3% $20-$29 K income voted in ’04 elections (‘06 US Census report)


219 years since the signing of the U.S. Constitution
728 days until the 2008 Presidential Election
11 days until the Congressional General Election
0 days to shape the future



References: pulled from Internet on October 28, 2006
http://www.iraqbodycount.org/
http://www.footprintnetwork.org/
http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/states/04000lk.html
http://www.lwv.org/

Achille-Claude Debussy's Early Morning gift

Claire de Lune softly played on my Bose at 4 am this morning, sweeping me back in time to my teens when I was a budding clarinetist in Plattsburgh, New York.

That time in my life was filled with good music, shared inspiration of fellow musicians; directing the Philharmonic from my third floor bedroom, a new LP from Columbia Records blaring the Firebird Suite, in a nineteenth-century brick home overlooking Lake Champlain. I was thirteen years old, and how could I have known that what I experienced then would be some of the best experiences I would ever have?

Claude Debussey broke with tradition at the Paris Conservatory, writing music influenced by the period's Impressionist painting schools. Afternoon of a Fawn and La Mer are two other Debussy favorites of mine. Debussy takes listeners into a kind of rapture. This morning's happenstance, listening to Claire de Lune and drinking organic coffee from Chiapas...these are the experiences of only a small part of the human race.

How can it be that while I sit in my warm living room, enjoying great music and coffee, anticipating a day when I can determine my own future, go my own way with no worries about food, shelter or safety...that three-quarters of my fellow man are lying on the bare ground, starved and threatened by a mean race of people within their own borders?

How can these realities exist in time together?

When I was thirteen it was perhaps forgiveable because I rarely encountered information about people living in these conditions. But now we have CNN and that other reality is present in my living room with me. It comes as a discordant fact in the midst of Debussy's exquisite creation presenting me with a dilemma early in my day. What should be my response? How can I proceed now that I recognize I am related to those who suffer?

Is adulthood a time when the seriousness of the world community steals away the rapture of youth when life was taken for granted and fully tasted, embraced? No, I think not...but the art of living in the world's incongruity requires me to live with integrity, to try to do what I can do so that any human being on the Earth can enjoy an early morning interlude with Claude Debussy's masterworks.

For information on the latest situation in Darfur: http://www.amnestyusa.org/news/document.do?id=ENGUSA20061022002



Susan

Among Garden Spirits

A garden is a spiritual place. I have always created a garden, at each house I have lived. My garden in Tucson is maturing. By that I mean each shrub or plant, or seedling tree, is taking root more deeply or widely, depending on its strategy for collecting water. Roots and branches, vines and flowers intermingle providing support for another or shade; some compete for space and sunlight.

I let my gardens grow wild, following the shape of growth, surprised by fruits that pop up in odd places from my mad composting of kitchen waste. Under my bedroom window a new garden bed hosts a tribe of butternut squash seedlings rising from one spot. I'll let them all grow, determining among themselves which will prevail to grow the vine across my tiny backyard.

Pieces of pottery as seen above (a wall vase my daughter made when she was young) I hang on a wall, or I place bowls and vessels in the soil where water collects for ants, lizards, and a wild cat that drinks from a pitcher smothered by white allysum underneath the birdbath. Cat is a sleek, black panther just the right size for a small urban garden. He stalks unwary birds and about once a month manages to get one, leaving me a pile of grey feathers and white down as a marker of his work.

Salvia is flaming red and I noticed a ruby-throated Anna's hummingbird (Calypte anna) drinking from one of the carmine pockets this morning.

Because Tucson is experiencing a West Nile outbreak from mosquito bites, I have let my birdbath go dry. The usual feathered friends no longer drop by for a drink. But the Inca Dove (Columbina inca) flutters down when the coast is clear to eat small seeds from grasses and the over-hanging Foothill palo verde tree (Cercidium microphyllum) . The palo verde is a legume and my garden benefits from the nitrogen rich seed pods it drops profusely in the late spring.

Earlier I wrote a note about the Sacred Datura or Jimson Weed that sprung up in my front garden. This large leafed plant sprawled over a six-foot circumference, about two feet high. But, in only three days it was "mowed down" by the larvae of the Hawk moth (Sphingidae) which is a prime pollinator of Sacred Datura (Datura wrightii).

When I examined the leaves of the disappearing Datura, I came "face to face" with a garden shape shifter (below). This one was five inches long!

I left the horn worms to grow. After one more day the entire leaf canopy was gone, the only trace of the green spirits a pile of dark balls of dung left to enrich the garden soil. Where the larvae diappeared to I have no idea. Maybe they are under ground waiting until next spring when they will metamorph into the huge brown hawk moths that visit Datura on warm summer nights drinking from the white trumpet flowers.

One thing about gardens: they awaken a different sense of time through the cycles of plant and animal life that follow the moon and sun, the rain and influences of mountains, rivers, and wind. A garden holds my feet on the Earth.

Writing and William Faulkner's Advice

On the trip home from Taos, closing my writer's residency at the Frank Waters Foundation, I encountered the Very Large Arrays, Radio Telescopes of the National Science Foundation. I pulled into the visitor center, curious to learn the purpose of this amazing site with over twenty giant discs aimed toward the heavens. A storm brewed, kicking up winds that found no obstruction across the high plateau in southwestern New Mexico. I always imagine sinister plots at sites like this, some covert U.S. operation underneath the veneer of science research. I learned that these telescopes use radiowaves, not to listen to sounds emanating from space, but to visualize the far reaches of our galaxy. In fact they produce images of places that may be from the beginning of time, fourteen billion years ago. That seemed more mysterious than a covert plot. At its least, it might afford me an idea for a new chapter in the book I just finished drafting at the Waters' Foundation studio.

Writing itself is somewhat of a mystery. Beyond the obvious need to learn to write in correct format and convention (something I am still learning), writing taps into streams of consciousness hidden even from the writer herself. Where, for example, do names of characters come from? I was writing about a minister recently and the name Cleveland Sturgess popped in my mind. Now where would a name like that come from? I have no idea, but I rather liked it and incorporated "him" into my story. Maybe he even exists somewhere on the planet.

Then two days ago I felt the need for redirection in my writing. Scanning my library I picked The Faulkner Reader from the shelf. William Faulkner inspired me early in my life when I studied his works as an English major at East Tennessee State University in the rolling foothills of the Smoky Mountains. Ike McCaslin and Old Ben (The Bear) remained powerful images in my own psyche and probably led me to become an environmental educator later in my life. There in the beginning of the Reader is Faulkner's address upon receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1950. Therein I found the redirection I sought:

"Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only the question: When will I be blown up? Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat.

He must learn them again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in this workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed- love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice....

It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart...."

Now how did I know to pull that book from the shelf just when I needed a lighthouse?

For more about William Faulkner go to William Faulkner on the Web:
http://www.mcsr.olemiss.edu/~egjbp/faulkner/faulkner.html

~ Susan

P.S. That same evening the owner of the B&B in Alpine, Arizona told me his military friend believes that, indeed, the Very Large Arrays sometimes engage in spy operations here on planet Earth. The wheels are turning.

Sheltered at the Frank Waters Foundation

The spirit of the land and people at the Foundation are definitely contributing to my creative process. I am amazed at the progress I have already made on my book.

For me the time and space provided at the artist studio, set behind Barbara Waters' home, is essential to formulating a cohesive story.

The image above shows my living room floor covered with nearly 100 books stretching well beyond the photo's frame. I finally selected about 40 reference books and stories that form the backstory for the novel 's plot about the human community's journey toward a sustainable future on Earth.

More than time and space, the opportunity to spend time with Barbara Waters, an author in her own right, philosopher and patron of the arts continues to be one of the highlights of my residency. Recently I helped Barbara start her own blog about her adventure as a newly diagnosed Parkinsonian. Here is a link to her blog. Please refer anyone you know who is dealing with this disease; I am sure Barbara's blog will most encouraging and filled with links to important sites:
www.parkinsonsfromthehorsesmouth.blogspot.com.

Another upbeat in my residency was the visit by my daughter Heather who briefly found shelter at the studio for her painting. Heather's water color of El Salto mountain and the surrounding countryside was created in the Upper Pasture not too far from Frank Waters' memorial site under the great oak tree.

She listened to a brief reading of the draft and made excellent suggestions. We sat in the yard at night contemplating the constellations and weaving stories. I miss her enriching spirit now....

I have completed Part I of the draft, however, constructing a likely scenario (speculative fiction) for the devolution of the status quo and the evolution of a new mindfulness about human habitation is my constant challenge. In the back of my mind I can hear a friend's query, "Susan, how will you make it a page-turner?" Indeed.

Till my next sojourn into Arroyo Seco to take my seat at the tables of the Taos Cow - a hot bed of interesting people, ice cream delights and wireless - be well!

Susan

Taos Adventure

Next week I leave Tucson for the Frank Waters Foundation in Arroyo Seco, New Mexico. The Foundation is located about 8 miles outside of Taos in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. There is a small cabin on the Waters' property for artists to work in solitude, away from email, phones and daily distractions.

By some miracle I was awarded a Writer's Residency for six weeks.

Long ago I discovered Frank Waters' writing in The Man Who Killed the Deer. Frank Waters navigates the psyche of a character struggling to live in two cultural realities - Native American and European/western. Through this novel and many others Frank wrote over his lifetime, he offers readers a chance to examine the values of different cultures. To do this well requires a kind of integrity that distinguishes Frank's writing.

Go to this link on the Foundation's website to read about his life and the experiences that were the well-spring of his writing: http://www.frankwaters.org/photo.htm

I plan to blog my experience writing at the Foundation. However, if I fall into a writer's crevass, you may not hear from me until October when I return to Tucson. In that case, I am leaving these links to sites and resources for you to explore perspectives of the American cultural experience and to wet your whistles for my new book.

Please leave your comments here about what you read or about your own experiences.

Food for Thought:

Read about the Iroquois Great Law of Peace:
http://sixnations.buffnet.net/Great_Law_of_Peace/

Read the Hopi Experience Living in the Fourth World:
http://www.hopi.nsn.us/emergence.asp

Two of my favorite Frank Waters Books

Link to Frank Waters' classic - The Book of the Hopi:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0140045279/103-2967322-9485414?v=glance&n=283155

Link to The Woman at Otowi Crossing:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0804008930/sr=1-1/qid=1154876637/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-2967322-9485414?ie=UTF8&s=books

Here is a photo of the cabin where I will be working:



Later! Susan

The Stubborn Determination to Continue Dreaming

“The future is a construct that is shaped in the present, and that is why to be responsible in the present is the only way of taking serious responsibility for the future. What is important is not the fulfillment of all one’s dreams, but the stubborn determination to continue dreaming.” ~ Gioconda Belli, The Country Under My Skin

Belli's admonition is important for Americans disenchanted with our nation's leadership in the world. It is easy to feel disenfranchised from our present government.

As I painfully listen to the U.S. President and Secretary of Defense hawk an old tune, I am once again amazed that my country's experience - that war does not bring peace - never seems to penetrate very deeply into our psyche. It would be so easy to throw in the towel when most of us come home from a day of long hours commuting, working and bringing our children along the bumpy roads of life...but that would only give them more license to proceed no matter what we think or write or even vote!

No, it is imperative that I and you choose a small part of the turf of our democracy, breathe into it new life from our personal energy, and defend it with all our might. Everything is at stake right now. Just when we need to dream, we are delivered a nightmare. The U.S. is destablizing a whole region of the world under the guise of freedom.

My dream is that we reform this government through active participation on all levels of civic life so that we begin to measure our worth through something worthy like the condition of children in our nation. Think of this: 13 million American children live in poverty. And, how do we measure up for protecting the biosphere: have we provided leadership as the world's worst polluter per capita? Have we responded to genocide wherever it festers? These are some of the true measures of whether we are actualizing prudence and compassion.

Stubborn determination it will certainly take to stay the course and not let fearful scenarios from our so-called leaders and their media entourage dim our hopes for something much better than their dystopias.

We must recover credibility not just in the eyes of other nations, but in our own eyes. And, there are another set of eyes - those of our children. I want to be able to face my son and daughter and tell them truthfully that I did everything I could to renew and protect our national dream of a society based on responsibility for each other.

The following is excerpted from "The Quickening of America" by Frances Moore Lappé and Paul Du Bois (Jossey-Bass, 1994). I believe this is a common dream we could bring into reality now. In fact there are millions of Americans "doing democracy" as I write this. See links to some of their projects at the end of this blog.

THE GREAT CITIZEN EXPERIMENT
Living democracy opens new possibilities for America and the world. It's not anti-government. In living democracy, citizens are not seeking more government. They're not seeking less government. Instead they are developing appropriate and effective roles for government - made accountable to citizens' real concerns.

It's not anti-market or business. In living democracy, the marketplace and business are not the enemy. Instead, citizens ask: How can the market and business be made to serve our community's needs and values. It's not about simple volunteerism. In living democracy, individual volunteerism is not considered The Solution. Rather it is considered a means of building citizen organizations and citizen skills in order to reshape our communities ever closer to our values.

It's not about ideology. In living democracy, citizens are seeking practical solutions, freed from fixed dogma. They're letting go of the notion that there is one formula to fit all communities, all societies. They're experimenting to find what works. They are trusting their own experiences and insights, free to change as they learn new lessons. these citizens know they don't have a democracy. Democracy is something they are doing, as they rebuild themselves and their communities and go about solving today's unprecedented problems together.

~Susan

http://www.environmental-action.org/enviroaction.asp?id2=20839

http://smallplanetinstitute.org/video/index.php

http://www.oceanconservancy.org/site/PageServer?pagename=home

http://www.slowfoodusa.org/about/index.html

http://www.thegreenguide.com/about/tggi

Margaret Atwood's Truth

Reading Margaret Atwood is sheer pleasure. Her writing stands as a tall lighthouse that guides me as a new writer from shipwrecking on the rocks of verbal glut. I am not alone. Atwood not surprisingly engenders an erudite band of lovers: http://www.mscd.edu/~atwoodso/

Because I chose to write a novel about the way distant future-the beginning of the third millenium-I sat down one afternoon to read Atwoods' essays about writing The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx and Crake in her excellent collection of essays, Writing with Intent.

In "Writing Utopia" Atwood explains that her work is not science fiction but rather entirely conceivable in the present (we are either doing it now, did it in the past, or could start doing it tomorrow). Therein lies the power of it. The story is built around trends that we know are happening today or unfolding before our eyes. She calls this kind of novel "speculative fiction".

Whether writing about a utopia (where eveything works perfectly around someone's notion of what's "good") or a dystopia (where nothing works and thus readers discern what would be good or better), Atwood points out that only cultures based on monotheism produce either kind of novel. Polytheistic cultures, not being based on a unidirectional flow from bad to better to perfect, are circular by their nature so that all things move through cycles in a rhythm with one thing creating the forces that bring the other into existence.

From my perspective, to write a utopia or a dystopia is to make a judgement on society or declare that some values are definitely superior to others. Atwood chose to write a dystopia in both The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx and Crake. In the latter, the dismal, shattered world of Snowman is so terrible it shook me to my core. I wept long after finishing the book. Then I became angry! Why use all this talent to create a lasting vision of devastation? Rather than feeling empowered to make change, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of debilitating impotence.

As a long time environmental educator, I exist today on the hope that we can create in the minds of enough people the vision of how we can live sustainably so that a tipping point in consciousness sweeps across our nation. Atwood's dystopias innoculate us with a half-killed version of the real disease vector to hopefully make us stronger, more resistant to its threat. Why then do I resist it so? The answer may be that I prefer to eat organic food and drink clear water and let my body/mind develop its natural defenses. I prefer a positive vision I can reach toward, one that is realistic. Some would say I look for utopia.

No matter utopian or dystopian scenarios, nature will surely select out of the human community those who possess "robust" genes - or robust behaviors. If humanity goes on with business as usual, few of our progeny will make it into the 22nd century and if they do they it will not be nice.

A decade ago I stepped off the merry-go-round of status quo to study my culture through the eyes of North American first peoples, a Mojave medicine man and an Iroquois teacher. The first question they asked me was "Do you want the truth or a pretty picture?" I chose the truth. And likewise I think Atwood goes that way in her speculative fiction. But it is such a bitter pill.

As I plan my novel I consider whether to drink of the absinthian liquid of despair or imbibe the sweet ambrosia of a better world. Perhaps I will drink both, chasing one shot after another. Perhaps the best we can ever do is to actively strive toward utopia, realizing it IS a myth but that the path is something very, very good, and sustainable.

These are my reflections on a quiet but very warm morning on the Sonoran Desert. I am praying for rain.

~Susan

Meeting at the Crossroads

Most people think of cactus, cowboys or the Grand Canyon when they think of Arizona. It's true we still hatch cowboys and cowgirls in the Arizona family, but they are definitely becoming an endangered species who can now be found herding tourists as much as cattle.

Arizona is a state riding the waves of tourism, this year raking in $17 billion in revenues from people like you who come to ride white water down a canyon gorge or walk an old path in Indian country.

Arizona's waters, land and big domed sky are the state's natural capital.

So it is not surprising that Arizonans are coming together to assure we protect our nest egg. And we are not a moment too soon! Like other states we are suffering from rapid growth, habitat degradation and an awesome draw down of aquifers.

The state's professional society for environmental educators-Arizona Association for Environmental Education (AAEE)-supported by a generous grant from the Nina Mason Pulliam Charitable Trust-hosted a statewide summit on sustainability:
The Arizona Crossroads Summit: ttp://www.arizonaee.org/events/summit.html

AAEE intends to find common ground among many sectors of Arizona's diverse culture to assure that life remains worth living (and visiting) here in the Copper State. Nina Mason Pulliam Charitable Trust (http://www.ninapulliamtrust.org/html/) is betting on the long shot by investing in the Summit as part of their commitment to protect wildlife and facilitate a high quality of life for all Arizonans.

AAEE brought together over 80 decision-makers in April from government, business,technology, public education and university sectors along with interpreters and educators from parks, museums, nature centers and university science programs. They spent the day at the beautiful Heard Museum in Phoenix
(www.heard.org) considering how they can work together.

AAEE's members are people from all walks of life who value ecosystems and wildlife for its intrinsic value. Learning to speak the language of a broader group of Arizonans who may look at nature's value in terms of human wealth is an acquired skill. Yet both viewpoints can lead to the same end. The Crossroads Summit is AAEE's committment to interpret the value of nature in many "languages" to foster a grassroots movement that will result in more sustainable practices in a variety of sectors in Arizona.

At a Follow-up Meeting of Summit Participants at the Desert Botanical Garden, (www.dbg.org) the group focused on bringing networks of existing programs and services together to make them visible to the public. By doing so they hope to channel citizen action and support through them. In other words, there are hundreds of organizations, businesses and community groups who are already focused on sustainability and maybe all that is needed is to promote their efforts.

As this commences, the leaders believe it will define markets and illuminate what is missing from the picture. This dynamic process will lead to innovation and create a sense of being in this all together.

The Crossroads Summit moved out of the theoretical realm at the Follow-up Meeting and into action. Check the AAEE website for updates and ways to get involved: www.arizonaee.org.

Even as the Arizona Crossroads Summit moves into implementation, no one involved is deluded into thinking this fixes the problem of human impacts on fragile ecosystems in our state. This is only a first step together on a steep path but the path holds potential for Arizonans to reconsider how to live here, how to formulate a creative yet appropriate lifestyle.

For us the issue of water is of paramount importance. With Arizona at the dripping end of the Colorado River Water Pact, we face serious issues in the near future. The Follow-up Team is planning to focus on water exclusively in this early phase to support Governor Janet Napolitano's creation of a tri-university think tank to conserve water resources.

The message of the Arizona Crossroads Summit is clear: It will take all of us to make it into a viable future in Arizona.

Other resources to check out:

http://www.azwater.gov/dwr/

http://www.azcommerce.com/communityplanning/council.asp

~Susan

A Matter of Time

There isn't any place I'd rather be than by an ocean. This is the Gulf of Mexico off Pensacola's main beach.

Perhaps what captivates me is its energy. Many people, maybe all human beings, are beguiled by large bodies of water. Must be some cellular recognition of our origin, when relatives unrecognizable to us today rocked in the womb of life.

That we are at all related to strange looking creatures darting about in the light-filled strata of the oceans is at best a remote feeling. Yet we learn that we are. In some long ago past our line came packaged in a silicon skeleton!

Scientific American recently published a special edition, A Matter of Time (see below for link). If I read these articles correctly, our perception of time moving forward is a physiological consequence of our neurology. In fact past, present and future may exist simultaneously in the universe.

So perhaps our old relatives exist in the fabric of space, which scientists describe as a grid-like arrangement of matter and energy in something called "spin networks". I think you will find the articles in this special edition of Scientific American very thought provoking.

The ancient knowledge on this planet-which Western societies have denied credibility-includes an understanding of this grid-like structure of the universe. Presumably there were once Earthlings who utilized the energy lines of the electromagnetic grid (where the Earth's crust releases energy from deep within). These old lines were locations of sacred structures, pathways of lost civilizations with sofisticated knowledge of the Earth and the Universe.

An Iroquois Teacher once told me she participates in balancing energy flow along these lines to help the Earth in times of great disruptions of natural energy flows (climate change?).

When I walk along the shore of the ocean, lulled by the ebb and flow of its salty waves, I feel the pull of a numinous presence, a deep call from my core. I know intuitively that call comes from something much greater than the concerns of my daily life, a Source of profound wisdom that suffuses the entire Earth and indeed, the Universe.

Perhaps this is why I am drawn to oceans....

~Susan

A Matter of Time: http://www.sciamdigital.com/index.cfm?fa=Products.ViewIssue&ISSUEID_CHAR=6A269AE7-2B35-221B-60DCBF6A2F13F5CF

On the Edge

More articles and reports about Earth Changes. Acidification of oceans from increased absorption of carbon dioxide has reached levels that interfere with production of shells on lifeforms that are at the base of vast marine food webs; release of methane-rich cathrates during glacial and tundra thawing are expected; continued degradation of forests and grasslands rages on, imperiling Earth's large carbon sinks. Read below about acidification of oceans:

Growing Acidity of Oceans May Kill Corals By Juliet Eilperin
The escalating level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is making the world's oceans more acidic, government and independent scientists say. They warn that, by the end of the century, the trend could decimate coral reefs and creatures that underpin the sea's food web. To view the entire article, go to http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/07/04/AR2006070400772.html?referrer=emailarticle


Our prevailing economic and political worldview results in the U.S. contributing the biggest impact per capita on the biosphere-a commons of air, water and land systems shared by the entire community of life. Our values, our Constitution, does not include the Earth and her communities of life under its protection. It is valueless in our principles of governance. This is a critical point we need to reevaluate.

For a country that purports to follow Christian ethics, what happened to the Law given to Moses? Natural Law. A very hopeful sign from religous communities shows some of us may be reexamining the Law:

Ecological efforts unite faiths in common cause. More than a decade ago on an Aegean island, the spiritual leader of the world's Orthodox Christians made a startling proposition: That pollution and other attacks on the environment could be considered sins.

The full article will be available on the Web for a limited time:
http://www.contracostatimes.com/mld/cctimes/news/14976527.htm
(c) 2006 ContraCostaTimes.com and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved.


The environmental alarms have been screaming for decades now but so many of us are deaf. The question is "How can we bravely face the truth of our times?"

Hopefully we will face it together with grace and humility and a lot of determination to save all we can, and we will gain understanding about how to govern ourselves more ecologically. I live in that hope and intention.

~Susan

Great Voices of Democracy

Is there not something worthy of perpetuation in our Indian spirit of democracy, where Earth, our mother, was free to all, and no one sought to impoverish or enslave his neighbor?
~ Ohiyesa, Santee Sioux (1858 – 1939)

Yes, your honor, I have many things to say; for in your ordered verdict of guilty, you have trampled under foot every vital principle of our government. My natural rights, my civil rights, my political rights, my judicial rights, are all alike ignored.
~ Susan B. Anthony, Women’s Rights Leader (1820 – 1906)

When I first decided to take a firm stand against the war in Vietnam, I was subjected to the bitterest criticism, by the press, by individuals, and even by some fellow civil rights leaders. There were those who said that I should stay in my place, that these two issues did not mix and I should stick with civil rights. Well I had only one answer for that and it was simply the fact that I have struggled too long and too hard now to get rid of segregation in public accommodations to end up at this point in my life segregating my moral concerns.
~ Martin Luther King, Jr., Civil Rights Leader (1929 – 1968)

No face which we can give to a matter will stead us as well at last as the truth. This alone wears well…. Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is better than make-believe. ~ David Henry Thoreau, American Dissenter (1817 – 1862)

Because we have suffered, and we are not afraid to suffer in order to survive, we are ready to give up everything - even our lives - in our struggle for justice.
~ Cesar Chavez, Leader of the Farm Workers’ Civil Rights Movement (1927 – 1993)

The strongest reason why we ask for woman a voice in the government under which she lives… is because of her birthright to self-sovereignty; because, as an individual, she must rely on herself. ~ Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Women’s Rights Leader (1815 – 1902)

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed….
~ Declaration of Independence 1776

Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, can not long retain it. ~ Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States (1809 – 1865)

He that would make his own liberty secure must guard even his enemy from oppression; for if he violates this duty he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself.
~ Thomas Paine, American Patriot (1737 – 1809)

Americans raise their flag to honor Liberty and burn their flag when Liberty is in jeopardy. Liberty for All is the creed of true Americans. They cannot be swayed. They have tasted her intoxicating liberation. No government, no religious doctrine or person can deter true Americans from their pursuit of freedom.

Liberty is their only religion, their only banner. True Americans are free to think and free to live. Liberty whispers in their ears throughout the land.

On this 4th of July I am hoping for a sea change in American politics to right the wrongs of a misguided foreign policy. For the sake of Freedom and Liberty, bring home the troops.

Susan

An Inconvenient Truth

If you have not yet seen Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth, get there soon. http://www.climatecrisis.net.

Gore put together the information in a way that everyone can grasp the science. But more importantly, the consequences we face if we do not act now to sharply drop greenhouse gas admissions are straight-forward. The film does not use fear tactics. Rather, it is based on the assumption that intelligent people are watching the film and can grasp the meaning without it being hammered into their heads.

Few people realize how much their energy use at home impacts the environment. The average home produces twice as much greenhouse gas pollution as the average car, or about 22,000 pounds of carbon dioxide (CO2) per year. Compare this to the typical automobile that produces 10,000 pounds of CO2 per year.

According to the U.S. Department of Energy, replacing incandescent lighting with
compact fluorescent lighting will not only save considerable money, but can cut the amount of energy you use by 100%!

The DOE's Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy Network offers a clearinghouse of energy-efficiency information at http://www.eere.energy.gov/

Here is a great site to bookmark for dependable information and updates on how we are doing meeting the challenges of climate change: http://www.pewclimate.org/

Here's a site for kids: http://www.epa.gov/globalwarming/kids/difference.html

As I listened and watched Gore, it was like a miracle: finally, we have a leader who is talking about the greatest threat to national security we have ever faced.

Finally, someone is respectfully but firmly bringing reality home. We have responsibilities to the children in our midst and to peoples the world over.

It burns me that we have lost so much time. Earth changes are in full swing already but if we act together we might be able to slow it down before we reach a threshold.

We can no longer expect or trust our government to lead us. It's up to us, until we can bring on leaders who can see farther than Captitol Hill.

The advent of An Inconvenient Truth playing on movie screens nationally is a historical marker. From here on out, we cannot say we did not understand or know what to do.

"Never doubt that a small, group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." ~ Margaret Mead

See if you can walk, bike or carpool one day this week. Start a revolution.

Peace,

Susan

Win some, lose some

The state of Florida continues in its long tradition of raping Mother Earth wherever and whenever it gets the chance: read Carl Hiaasen's article about the manatee's new status as threatened, no longer endangered. This opens the door for development to proceed as usual.
http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/news/opinion/14782935.htm

I recently finished reading The Swamp: The Everglades, Florida and the Politics of Paradise by Michael Grunwald. It is a thorough, gut-wrenching chronicle of powerful men driven by greed and a twisted version of "for the greater good" that, like no other book I have read illustrates the misdirected values of our present economic system. Read a the New York Times review:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/09/books/review/09martin.html?ex=1302235200&en=305f880b59bad761&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

Just the quality of life and its continuance on Earth are at stake.

Sobered,
Susan

Mother Earth Scores on the Hill - Finally!

The Ocean Conservancy reported today:

"Today, President George W. Bush declared the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands a national monument, making it the largest marine reserve on the planet. The action will protect one of the last intact marine ecosystems in the world, one that is home to sharks, whales, extensive coral reefs and the endangered Hawaiian monk seal. The marine reserve would be free from commercial and extractive activities, allowing the entire marine ecosystem to continue to thrive for future generations." Read the full press release.

"The Ocean Conservancy released a scientific report on October 24, 2005, showing that even the remote Northwestern Hawaiian Islands are not immune from the dangers of overfishing. The report — based on government data — reveals that some key fish populations in the area are in a steady decline due to fishing pressure.

Most of us have never been to the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, an archipelago of islands and atolls located northwest of the main Hawaiian Islands that stretch for more than one thousand miles. There are no resorts, no restaurants, and no surfing beaches.

And that’s the point. This area is so remote that we humans have hardly made a mark on it. The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands ocean ecosystem is home to extensive and massive reef colonies and thousands of marine species, many of which are found nowhere else on Earth. It stands apart as an oceanic gem at a time in which large fish are disappearing from the oceans and ecosystems around the world are in decline.

Fewer than a dozen commercial fishing boats currently make the long journey to the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands’ waters. But, as our report illustrates, the ecosystem cannot remain healthy if any commercial fishing continues in the region.

On October 25, 2005, Admiral Conrad Lautenbacher of NOAA rejected an effort by WESPAC* to allow ecologically damaging fishing in the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. By doing so, he has helped to preserve the natural character of this truly magnificent, globally important ecological treasure."

For more information on the role of The Ocean Conservancy in creating the chance for this positive action on behalf of one of the few remaining natural treasures on Earth: http://www.oceanconservancy.org

In his seminal work, the Diversity of Life, Edward O. Wilson (long regarded as one of the preeminent biologists living today) made this statement about the role of government in saving the last great reserves of biodiversity on this planet:

"The government's moral responsibility in the conservation of biodiversity is similar to that in public health and military defense. The preservation of species across generations is beyond the capactiy of individuals or even powerful private institutions. Insofar as biodiversity is deemed an irreplaceable public resource, its protection should be bound into the legal canon." (pg 342)

The role of The Ocean Conservancy was a critical piece in accomplishing this marvelous act. We need much more of this kind of cooperative action - and fast!

To learn more about hot spots of biodiversity that need to be protected go to:
http://www.biodiversityhotspots.org/xp/Hotspots

Onward...and upward...!

Susan

Sacred Spaces

At my house
Sacred datura and moonstone rose,
Two friends,
One native, one immigrant
Share this space
With me.

It rained this
morning early.
Datura opened
its white throat
and rose a petal,
and me a possibility.

Sacred datura is a native plant of the Sonoran Desert. http://www.oneworldjourneys.com/sonoran/index2.html It is more commonly known as Jimson weed. It's large, dark green foilage is amazing in light of the hot, dry conditions of the summer in this desert. At dusk it opens its large, flute shaped flowers, frequented by bees and moths. The large tuberous root looks almost like a limb.

All parts of this beautiful plant are poisonous. Shamans traditionally have used the seed for its hallucinagenic properties. Only experienced practitioners should use it however;many have died trying to enter dream states. Read The Teachings of Don Juan by Carlos Castenada for a first-hand description of Sacred datura's powerful toxic alkaloids and its impact on the human mind and body. http://www.prismagems.com/castaneda/

Every place on Earth is imbued with these sacred places and mysteries. Our everyday drugs are derived from plants, minerals and animals. Aspirin for example is derived from the bark of willows. Long ago our ancestors used the pharmacopoeia of the landscape to increase health, prevent pregnancy, cure disease. These direct ties to plants, minerals or animals that promote the well-being and survival of human beings have largely been forgotten in modern culture.

How would our attitude toward the land around us change if we understood where that bottle of cold medicine in our medicine cabinet really came from? It just so happens that Sacred datura (Datura wrightii) produces scopolamine an alkaloid that is a common ingredient in cold and nausea remedies.

Go to this link for the National Tropical Botanical Garden to learn about conservation of one of the world's greatest sinks of plant biodiversity: http://www.ntbg.org. Visit this link to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson to learn about the amazing diversity of life in our desert: http://www.desertmuseum.org.

And next time you are near a plant, give thanks to it for the exchange of gasses (oxygen released into the air by plants/carbon dioxide exhaled by humans) that is one of the most essential relationships among the great kingdoms of life on Earth.

Information about Sacred datura came from The Natural History of the Sonoran Desert in an article by Mark Dimmitt.

Keep loving the Earth,

Susan

Path of the Warrior

There are many paths of the warrior spirit.
My Dad followed the warrior's path with a band of brave men in a Superfortress, a Boeing B-29, over the Marianas in WWII.

Their warship was called Three Feathers and Dad was commander-USAF Captain Edward B. Feathers from the foothills of the Smoky Mts.

March Air Field Museum in California recovered Dad's plane in 1981, but not until 2002 was its early history discovered. In a seemingly fit WWII tradition, a gorgeous blond-flight engineer and then museum restoration director, Shayne Meder-headed up the restoration of Three Feathers to its original glory. http://www.marchfield.org/b29a.htm In fact yesterday three members of Dad's crew visited the plane they risked life and limb to keep airborne between the island of Saipan where they were based to bombing raids over Okinawa and Tokyo 60 years ago. http://www.janeresture.com/saipan/index.htm

In the footsteps of our fathers...
Two years ago I was privileged to join Joan Liska, daughter of my father's right waist gunner, Sargeant Matthew Moore, when we crawled into the restored Three Feathers and sat in our fathers' respective seats. We cried for joy and for the memory of her father who passed away. Then I fired up my cell phone and we called Dad. What a joy it was for him to know that after all these decades his own child sat in his cockpit! It was a peak moment in two daughters' lives.

I listen to accounts of how they skimmed the ocean at a harrowing altitude of 1500 feet with only two operable engines on one side, listing like a wounded bird, on a wing and a bunch of prayers. Or the time they stayed behind, circling Tokyo Bay under the nose of the entire Japanese fighter force, to call in help for a downed fighter pilot. As a child these seemed like tales from King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. It's taken decades to grasp even an inkling of the immensity of that world war, the incredible oneness of the American government and people, and the terrible loss of life and the darkness that threatened the world.

I realize how this path left an indelible trace on my Dad's life map. The crew's ages ranged from 19 to 27. Most were kids! In fact, they had not flown the new B-29 much at all. It was specially produced by Boeing for the Pacific Theater and crews were rushed through training for heavy bombardment on Japan in 1944-45 near the end of the war. Dad's crew went out together in harm's way and each person's life was in the others' hands. War is not glorious but the human bonds forged therein are lasting. While the crew now lives far apart, they still check in with each other and remember those passed on-mostly the funny stuff.

Citizen Warriors
I am very proud of my Dad. He put in another 20 years of military service retiring as a Lt. Colonel. He remained what he calls "a citizen warrior" as a reserve officer. In the war and his career in the Air Force he received many commendations. But, Dad never defined himself by the war or even his USAF career. He is a modern man who moves on and today finds he has changed many of his perspectives on war. After another dozen have come and gone, he doubts the value of war in modern times. I do, too.

We often reflect on the wisdom of the Marshall Plan that recognized the value of rebuilding Europe to prevent the conditions that foster hatred and lead to war or genocide. http://www.usaid.gov/multimedia/video/marshall/av.html General Marshall won the Nobel Peace prize for his work toward international peace. There is a great lesson that we have forgotten. The man who led the Allied Forces to victory in WWII turned peacemaker.

Eisenhower followed the path of peacemaker, too. As President, Eisenhower's prophetic view from the top (when he realized that America's corporations and U.S. military were too closely aligned for comfort) fell on deaf ears. Citizens forgot about the wisdom of Marshall and Eisenhower. As we entered the Cold War we massed arms. There was simply too much money to be made in building the military for more war. Eisenhower saw clearly how a democracy must be ever vigilant that her hard won freedoms not be chipped away from within. http://www.worldpolicy.org/journal/hartung01.html

Dog Soldiers
In long ago times on Turtle Island in North America, a sacred society of warriors known as Dog Soldiers was established among the Cheyenne people. www.manataka.org/~manataka/page164.html

Of all the Cheyenne soldier societies, they were the the most respected. Dog Soldiers wore a sacred sash called a Dog Rope. It was staked to the ground where the Dog Soldier defended his nation as the last line of defense-often unto his death.

This impressed me so greatly that one night I dreamed that a new kind of American spirit, like that of the Dog Soldier, spread among the people of this nation. I saw people stand their ground for principles. They were the Senator that says no to preemptive war, the corporate boss willing to be transparent, the citizen who dissents on moral principles, and all who show compassion for the human condition. I saw the Nation defended fiercely by a new kind of warrior, one who uses words backed by action, and one who drives her/his stake into the ground, not yielding to convention or the path of least resistance. Some things are sacred and inviolate.

Running Raids on a Virtual Battleground in the 21st Century
Dad once flew a Superfortress, was as tough as nails. And for that war, I am glad for it. But now he flies a computer and runs raids on a virtual battleground. He's out there ambusing the charletons and misled leaders of this crazy world with a few strokes of his keyboard.

And he has organized his family and remaining crew members and their kids to our online Family Council. Everyday we receive Postings from the Chief. At 89 years of age he is still in command! But today he has joined the ranks of the gentle warriors, the peacemaker society.

I can only hope to live so well and to continue to grow with the times as he has. Today we deal with great uncertainty, and we are now a global tribe linked by our economies and a shared ecological future. All of us will have to find the new path of the warrior spirit, one that secures the peace and conserves the Earth.

~In honor of my Father, the crew of the Three Feathers,

and all the men and women who have gone down

the Path of the Warrior.~

Go in peace and wear your "Dog Rope"! The battlegrounds are everywhere Liberty is at stake.

Susan

Frolicking by the edge of the sea

Twenty years ago I had the good fortune of meeting Donis Davey. She was then a preschool instructor at the Orange County Marine Institute at Dana Point, California. http://www.ocean-institute.org/ Donis taught me how to recover the child in me so I could teach the smallest of students. We became friends along the way, and now, after her passing last year, I am missing her terribly. For Donis possessed the most treasured of qualities in a human being: passion!

Donis lived by the sea, actually by the San Clemente Pier, a famous place for surfers and beach goers in southern California. http://www.beachcalifornia.com/san-clemente-pier.html When you go to this link, follow the curving street up the hill and look for a white watch tower on top of a house. That's the tower she and her husband Don built so they could continue observing the ocean, something they did everyday. That house is where they raised their kids, and where Donis lived for over 30 years. She walked that beach everyday except when she was too sick to go down there.

The reason I am sharing this life with you is that I think Donis was on the right track in her life. She was fearless when it came to protecting the ocean and all its life. She was very active in land reforms and zoning policies and fought hard to keep the town and her neighborhood from overdevelopment. Well, as you can see in the picture of her neighborhood, she was not successful in keeping development down, but she influenced the way it happened. The point is Donis stood up for what she believed in.

My daughter recently accepted a position with the Ocean Conservancy in Washington, D.C. One visit to their website reveals the need for citizen participation in the ongoing pressures of human activities on the ocean: http://www.oceanconservancy.org/site/PageServer?pagename=home.

Donis taught children through her intuitive wisdom. She studied preschool education at Pasadena College, but her ability to engage little children in learning emanated from her own child within. Docents at the Marine Institute helped make puppets of all sizes and kinds for her programs. One remained a hallmark of Donis around Orange County: Sandwitch, a funny old witch who trashed the beaches and made the kids go wild with laughter at her antics. Donis had Sandwitch toss the plastic rings from a six pack on the "beach" only to find a bird or an otter end up strangled by it. She always had the kids rescue the victim. Other puppets were large enough for kids to get inside, like a gray whale that four kids could get inside and work the flukes and open its mouth to gather krill. Donis was alive and full of surprise and mystery. She always started off with a Treasure Box. What little kid doesn't want to know what's inside? There was a story connected to each object she slowly pulled from the box as kids stood up to see what was coming next!

Donis became a professional storyteller in her seventies. She travelled around the county performing in libraries. Her energy was boundless. She instituted the famous Ocean Birthday Party program that thousands of kids and parents attended. I helped her with these elaborate parties. She wore a lobster hat with long red segmented arms and pinchers protruding in every direction! We sang and danced the Hermit Crab Cha Cha which the kids loved because at one point they have to shake their "tails" and wiggle into a new shell. Watching parents shake their booty always made the kids crack up.

Toward the end of her life she held performances on the pier outside Schleppy's Bar and Grill on the Dana Point wharf. There one could find her dressed in purple, of course, and doning some crazy hat, draped with gorgeous jewelry made especially for her in the shape of seastars, dolphins, sand dollars and ocean waves. Sandwitch would be there, too, throwing styrafoam cups and saying the most outrageous things like, Why should I care about what happens to birds and fish? Donis's puppet co-star exemplified the worst human behavior toward the environment. Before long she would have a crowd around her with little kids booing Sandwitch's behavior.

Donis suffered from a host of life-long illnesses and finally died of a brain tumor. But inspite of her physical challenges, she accomplished more than most in a lifetime. Because of Donis Davey, there are tens of thousands of adults - once child prodigies of the woman who loved the ocean - out there with a love for the ocean in their hearts because Donis taught them to love it, to keep it well and to fight for the magnificent creation we hold in trust with our Creator.

Good teachers are worth their weight in gold. But sometimes we don't recognize them because they follow unusual paths. Donis's contributions to the Ocean Institute's program (then the Marine Institute) were never fully valued. The Director cast dispersions on her parties and while he never said it outloud to her, he thought they were frivolous compared to the other more scienctific classes taught to upper grades. Yet Donis followed the rose colored stream of passion that Rachel Carson so eloquently explained as the key to engendering a desire to protect and value nature:

Once emotions have been aroused – a sense of the beautiful, the excitement of the new and the unknown, a feeling of sympathy, pity, admiration or love – then we wish for knowledge about the object of our emotional response. Once found, it has lasting meaning. It is more important to pave the way for the child to want to know than to put him on a diet of facts he is not ready to assimilate.[1]
[1] Carson, Rachel (1965). A Sense of Wonder. New York: Harper & Row.

I look around and still see the stale factual presentations about "the environment." Once an Indian elder told me that her people have no word for environment because they do not conceptualize themselves as separate from it. "We are the environment," she told me.

Donis's abilities to bring the love and wonder about the ocean into the hearts of children derived from her own deep love for marine life - and that welled-up from a lifetime of exploration and experiences in and around oceans.

Even into her late 60's Donis could be found in a purple bathing suit with her colorful boogey board surfing the waves in front of her home at San Clemente pier. With the Boogaloos, a surfing club for which the only entrance requirement is you have to be at least 60, she held firm to the life force so many of us forget and eventually lose!

To my friend and mentor, Donis Davey, I am so glad that one such as you walked the Earth and that by the grace of God I had the opportunity to know you! Your spirit lives on in all of us who were lucky enough to know you and frolick with you by the edge of the sea!
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/edgeofsea/

http://www.mbayaq.org/ Monterey Bay Aquarium
http://www.sheddaquarium.org/ Shedd Aquarium

For some real fun, read Carl Hiaasen's two books: Hoot and Flush or go see the movie "Hoot" and fall in love with Florida oceans and estuaries. http://www.hootmovie.com/

Wild Thing

Backed into a corner she is a wild thing that will devour you. Three Floridians went to that wild appetite this week down in Swamp country. There are laws of the natural world that can not be violated. Nature is feeling the pinch of the human footprint and innocent victims pay the price.

On a recent trip into the back country of Florida I made this photo. I consider it a window into a real world that can be pushed only so far.

Florida, the Real Florida, still exists - though it is harder to find through the web of artificiality humankind's insatiable appetite for land has created. Is this a reptilian payback? Not in a premeditated sense, but when we push closer and violate the boundaries of habitat other species require, well, gulp... those glittering white teeth probably are not smiling at us.

See Carl Hiaasen's article from the Miami Herald. He has the long perspective on gators! http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/news/columnists/carl_hiaasen/

I for one never want to be part of a gator's food chain. It is indeed tragic for the three women.

Wild thing! You make my heart...scream!

Susan

For Earth Day 2006

The Earth within Us

The desert is full of contradictions. Its sparseness supports abundance; flowers bloom at night, creatures sleep by day. The desert follows its own song. I think that’s why I live there…because I want to learn how.

The rhythms of place, of hatchling or cub, of bud or seed, and the unmoving character of elder trees and weathered rocks that stand watch and hold the earth with fierce love-these affect me to my core.

Human institutions, on the other hand, serve me not. Built landscapes and unnatural acts like office work and traffic jams rise like dull monoliths separating me from my senses. They can not prevail though; I needn’t really worry. The earth is as much within as without. That we are separate from the environment is just another modern day scam.

We start out rocking in a warm sea, soothed by the steady beat of mother’s heart, enlivened by muffled strains of her voice. Like a rose unfolding petal by petal, we are brought into the world connected to the source of life. It’s just an illusion that we separate. There is something profound to be remembered here.

We each receive a marvelous body, a vessel to get about on Earth, a bellows to voice our thoughts and dreams, a way to pass on our traits to our progeny. This body of ours is durable, comes with its own self-repair kit, and given plenty of care and proper nutrition, is capable of great physical, mental, and spiritual acts.
Our body carries the ocean in its blood. Water, minerals and oxygen from the blood our mother gave us, passed down from distant times when our relatives rode on swells of plankton-rich depths, remain a tie with all time.

We take in earth, sky and water in the food we eat and the air we breathe. Our body's muscle, fat, elastic tissues, bones and teeth are all made up of earth, sky, water and fire. These remain profound connections with the Earth.

Even the movement of the Earth on its axis creates temperature, moisture, quality and length of sunlight, changes that our bodies respond to. Seasonal Affective Disorder is depression caused by lack of sunlight during winter months. A tiny mass of cells-the pineal gland in our brain-is a sun-sensor. It secretes a hormone when sun light enters through our eyes, a hormone that promotes a feeling of well-being. This is an old tie to a time when our relatives sensed light through these specialized cells underneath an azure sea.

Creatures of the moon, we women spend the majority of our lives fluctuating along a 28-day lunar cycle. Seasons prompt us to move faster or slower, build a nest or seek far-flung places, eat more fat or drink more water. We are centrally attuned to Earth and celestial forces. How could we forget?

I once befriended a child hidden in an old woman’s body. She dressed in purple and frolicked near the sea in California. She was a teacher of tiny children, the ones before school dims their lights. She taught me how to be a child again so I could become a real teacher. Donis brought me gifts from the sea. One of them was a children's book, Pagoo, by Holling and Lucille Hollings. It tells the adventures of a tiny hermit crab (Paguradae). That’s how I was reminded of Old Pal Instinct!

Pagoo’s kind start out as tiny dabs of protoplasm drifting in giant surf and thrown against the rocky tide pools and reefs. Most of his clan never make it to adulthood. But Pagoo’s internal sage, Old Pal Instinct, cues him at each important step of his life. Old Pal is responsible for saving Pagoo’s sausage-shaped butt as he navigates life's storm-tossed seas, predator-laden reefs and the ever-changing tides of a hermit crab’s life.

Adult humans have an Old Pal Instinct buried under multiple layers of should’s and cant’s, should of’s and could of’s. Unless wisely instructed, most of us forget Old Pal soon after we are born. Yet instinct is always at work cuing us even if we have no "ear" to listen. Old Pal whispers what to eat and not eat; when to rest and when to get going. When we are in a threatening situation, Old Pal tells us to “get the hell out of there!”

Unfortunately, at almost every urging from Old Pal Instinct, modern society teaches us to ignore our inner wisdom, sometimes even telling us we should act or feel directly opposite. Children raised in dysfunctional families, for example, are taught to ignore their need for human warmth and affirmation, learning instead to stuff their feelings and be independent. Yet our dependence on each other is one of humankind’s most basic instincts that promotes well being, i.e. survival.

Our inner set of instructions, included with each new baby, is the wisdom of billions of living relatives gleaned by experience over millennia. Not to make use of Old Pal Instinct causes grief and sickness and hampers the full unfolding of the human spirit. "Failure to thrive" is a dramatic example of our irrefutable connection to each other. Without physical touching and maternal nurturing, human infants quit eating and die. They wither on the vine in emotionally barren soil, the inner fire of will just flickers out.

We are learning about another basic need: the health promoting aspects of beauty and quietude that promote mental, physical and spiritual health. Humans, we are learning, need to look at flowers, trees, open sky and bodies of water. Without natural landscapes we experience a kind of pervasive stress. City parks provide relief from heat, noise and artificiality. We are most likely to wax cynical, lose heart and go a little insane without the beauty of nature as a reassurance that life is worth living. This is because we are not separate from the Earth nor have we ever been.

In the Twenty-First Century, 80% of the world's population lives in or near a city. The majority of people live in very poor conditions. Hopelessness serves to squander a huge reservoir of human ingenuity. The loss of instinctual knowledge among civilized people additionally ensures we will struggle to determine how to live well together.

The tragedy of our time is that we are the cause of our own suffering. We are witnessing the fraying of whole biological systems in our oceans, lands and air. Certainly, some species will survive and "Go on!" as Old Pal Instinct instructs. But humans depend upon the whole of the environment to survive. The survival of the human race into the future is in question by many who are watching the demise of earth ecosystems.

What does Old Pal Instinct tell us Homo sapiens about living on Earth?

Protect Diversity
Diversity is good. We humans like variety! We are drawn to places where there are communities of different living organisms. Our inner wisdom leads us to keep a diverse gene pool of living things to ensure survival.

Stick Together
There is safety in numbers! Social relationships provide all the basic things we need. Families and communities share resources with each other and provide support and protection. Our inner wisdom promotes the survival of group members.

Be Good
Old Pal leads species to cooperate more than compete. Respecting territory, observing rules of engagement, feeding another’s young when they cannot, are the wisdom of altruistic genes. These conserve energy and resources and protect the group’s viability.

Be Moderate
Humans living together need to share equitably so there is enough for everyone, and there is no over-harvesting of any one resource by individuals or groups. Life on Earth is in a dynamic state of balance.

Old Pal Instinct tells us to rise with the sun and retire with the sunset; to work in the early morning and rest at mid-day; to commiserate in the afternoon and eat well together in the early evening; to laugh heartily, speak our minds but listen to each other. Old Pal teaches us mammals that our progeny must be nurtured. Like seedlings of a fruit tree we gently care for them and hope they bare much fruit one day.

Above all, we need hugging, touching, freedom of movement physically and mentally. Old Pal urges us outside to garden, hike and ruminate, to slow down and live in the moment. Old Pal tells old, old stories of those who went before us. We are reminded of our story because we need it to set our life and give it meaning and purpose.

I believe it has come to pass that even with our great intelligence and schools of thought about so many other things, we as a culture have lost touch with the set of instructions that bring balance to our actions: a sense of how much is enough, a feeling of reverence for all life, and basic knowledge of how to live on Earth.

These are all "there" in our genes if only we were attuned to recognize it. We must not forget, however, that at least very young children still know where the sidewalk ends and the moon bird rests in the cool of the peppermint wind. They could lead us back to our senses.

Once I had a spot on the Earth where I sat in soft green grass. It was on a little hill on the side of my grandparents’ gravel driveway that wound around their farm. It pitched toward a meadow and onward to Aunt Kates’ farm that stretched to fill a little gorge with green fields and spotted cows. Near my spot a tiny pond (created by my grandmother from an upturned tin garbage-can lid) collected drops of water from an old spicket until it was full to the brim. With each new drop a little water spilled over the edges catching the sunlight like a diamond. I sat in quietude, holding my breath to not disturb the blue dragonfly with gossamer wings skimming over the water, or the tiny bee perched so carefully on the edge to imbibe a little of life’s elixir. I smelled the sweet, cool fragrance of mint that grew around the edges and entered the dreamtime of being in perfect harmony with life energies. I was eight years old.

Will life be worth living without such moments? Can we live without them?

Lately, when I walk in the desert on a cool morning, I wonder how much more the Earth that is in me and all around me can take of our foolishness. Then perhaps I am stopped by the sudden trill of a cactus wren perched on a tall saguaro. I can see its feathered throat shudder and expand with breath. And for that moment I am lifted up by one still following its own true song.

To all my friends and family and readers who visit this blog, I urge each of you to celebrate the Earth within you! Below are the books that inspired this essay, each one a gem. - Susan


References

1. Berry, Thomas (1988). The Dream of the Earth. Sierra Club Books.

2. Berry, Thomas (1999). The Great Work: Our Way into the Future. New York: Bell Tower.

3. Bowlby, John (1980). Attachment and Loss, Vol. III. London: The Holgarth Press, Ltd. And The Institute of Psyche-Analysis,

4. Hollings, Holling C. & Lucille W. Holling (1957). Pagoo. N.Y. Houghton Mifflin Co.

5. Kuhn, Peter H. Jr, (1998). The Human Relationship with Nature. Cambridge: The MIT Press.

6. Nabhan, Gary Paul and Stephen Trimble (1994). The Geography of Childhood. Boston: Beacon Press.

7. Orr, Daniel (1994). Earth in Mind. Island Press Washington, D.C.: Island Press.

8. Silverstein, Shel (1974). Where the sidewalk ends. N.Y.: HaperCollins Publishers.

9. Wilson, Edmond O. (1998) Consilience: the Unity of Knowledge. New York. Alfred A. Knopf.

10. Wilson, Edmond O. (2002) The Future of Life. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.