Why bother?

Stinson Beach, March 2008

So after that fairly distressing post about Tassajara, I feel compelled to offer an antidote.

Over the past few months, one of the articles I’ve found most inspiring is one by Michael Pollan titled “Why Bother?” published in the NY Times on Earth Day. You can read the full article here. It’s lengthy, and doesn’t fit into soundbites easily, but if you are looking for something juicy to engage your mind and heart, I highly recommend it. Michael starts by naming the obvious, the state of despair that more and more of us may find ourselves in:

Why bother? That really is the big question facing us as individuals hoping to do something about climate change, and it's not an easy one to answer. I don't know about you, but for me the most upsetting moment in "An Inconvenient Truth" came long after Al Gore scared the hell out of me, constructing an utterly convincing case that the very survival of life on earth as we know it is threatened by climate change. No, the really dark moment came during the closing credits, when we are asked to . . . change our light bulbs. That's when it got really depressing. The immense disproportion between the magnitude of the problem Gore had described and the puniness of what he was asking us to do about it was enough to sink your heart.

Pollan continues to flesh this out:

There are so many stories we can tell ourselves to justify doing nothing, but perhaps the most insidious is that, whatever we do manage to do, it will be too little too late.

Then he stops the despair train in its tracks:

So do you still want to talk about planting gardens?

I do.

And goes into an elegant exposition about how most approaches to problem solving in the modern age have created yet more problems, and about the power of returning to basic, sustainable practices. I appreciate the diverse sources that Pollan references to make these points… from Wendell Berry to Vaclav Havel. Then he brings it all home:

You begin to see that growing even a little of your own food is, as Wendell Berry pointed out 30 years ago, one of those solutions that, instead of begetting a new set of problems--the way "solutions" like ethanol or nuclear power inevitably do--actually beget other solutions, and not only of the kind that save carbon. Still more valuable are the habits of mind that growing a little of your own food can yield. You quickly learn that you need not be dependent on specialists to provide for yourself--that your body is still good for something and may actually be enlisted in its own support. If the experts are right, if both oil and time are running out, these are skills and habits of mind we're all very soon going to need…

But there are sweeter reasons to plant that garden, to bother. At least in this one corner of your yard and life, you will have begun to heal the split between what you think and what you do, to commingle your identities as consumer and producer and citizen....

And there's more. It's a great piece of writing, really. When you've got some time, read it and let it nourish your heart, soul, and mind. We need that nourishment so much in these times.

How would you respond if someone asked you, "Why bother?"

On the farm

Sunday morning at Rancho Far Side, as Lisa and Djann call this place. Things on the Tassajara fire front are relatively calm at the moment; I spoke with Gina yesterday and she still sounds good, assuring me that everything is okay. So I’m feeling able to shift gears a bit and tell you about my surroundings here, where I will be until July 16.

Lisa and Djann have 20 acres of land on the Rio Chama (“rio” means river), about an hour north of Santa Fe. They moved here two years ago, and they hold a vision of creating a sustainable place to live that welcomes a wide circle of friends and community.

This is fertile land, sitting between the river and the acequia – an irrigation ditch system that was created hundreds of years ago by the Spanish. When they bought the property, the land had been dormant for a while, but Djann and Lisa put a lot of work into it and now there are fields of crops growing… garlic, squash, corn, beans, lettuce, arugula, tomatoes, melons, berries, grapes, sunflowers, and lots more. Last night we had salad nicoise for dinner with romaine lettuce from the garden and grilled albacore and green beans.

This past year, Djann has started up a business – Sunhorse Sustainable Systems – to install solar panel systems and raise awareness of and access to alternative energy technologies. Sunhorse is in start up phase but already has put in solar systems at a few residences and a nearby pueblo.

For as long as I’ve known Lisa and Djann (about 15 years now), they have a wonderful gift for drawing magic and people into their lives, and that’s happening here. This is a lot of land to manage, and recently a ‘wrangler’ showed up to give them a hand – Fred, who now lives in a bunkhouse on the property, and takes care of a couple of horses that are on the land as well as building and fixing things on the property and helping with watering the crops.

So here I am, on this beautiful and magical piece of land with good friends all around, trying to find my place. Creative opportunities seem to flow to me here… there’s the possibility of helping Sunhorse set up a website and maybe help out in other ways, my friend Sharon is working to start up a Buddhist hospice on land nearby and may want support with creating a brochure, and there’s the work at Upaya Zen Center with the chaplaincy training program and possibly more.

The big challenge for me is to remember that I designated this as sabbatical time to rest and renew, to break some old maladaptive patterns and to create a more wholesome and fulfilling life. One old pattern is to say “yes” to everything that comes my way, no matter what the cost to myself. I realize I was wired at an early age to respond to other people’s needs. Not necessarily a bad thing, but important for me to take a deep look at how I nourish myself in the process. And I’m realizing that I want to take some more time to reconnect with my own vision and values.

With that, I’ll close with this great quote from astrologer Rob Brezsny:

“At the heart of the pronoiac [this is the opposite of paranoid… think joy!] way of life is an apparent conundrum: You can have anything you want if you'll just ask for it in an unselfish way. The trick to making this work is to locate where your deepest ambition coincides with the greatest gift you have to give. Figure out exactly how the universe, by providing you with abundance, can improve the lot of everyone whose life you touch. Seek the fulfillment of your fondest desires in such a way that you become a fount of blessings.”

Above: Lisa putting finishing touches on the salad
Below: Djann and Lola the dog survey the fields

The Blues... and Intentions

Lest this blog seem too blissful, I’m ready to add some dissonance to the mix tonight.

For the past few days, really the past week, I’ve been in a funky mood, having a hard time feeling motivated to do anything, and feeling, well, I hate to use the word “depressed” for various reasons (maybe the topic of a future blog entry) but definitely feeling blue. If I have any addiction it is to chocolate, and I’ve been on a feeding frenzy as of late. Three hot fudge sundaes in the past three days. (But oh were they good!)
There are days when being untethered to any job identity or fixed address feels incredibly liberating. And there are days like today when I feel lonely and adrift. Perhaps things are getting stirred up because the ground beneath my feet is shifting once again as I prepare to pack up my stuff from the Monterey room that's been my home base for the past 6 weeks and head to New Mexico this Thursday. I've moved around a lot the past five years, so my rootlessness feels especially highlighted this week.

So I thought it might be helpful to me and interesting for you to look at the intentions I set for myself at the beginning of this sabbatical, back in April. I’ve been enjoying the blog “How to Save the World” by Dave Pollard, and he’s got a nice entry about intentions. So this is resonating with me right now.

First and foremost, my big intention was to open up space and time for at least six months so that I could more deeply understand the conditions for joy, creative, expression, and intimacy in my life. And then create those conditions for the next phase of my life.

More specifically, I outlined four things that I wanted to practice during this time:

1. Stay in touch with my body, especially in times of stress. This has been a foundational practice for me recently in the therapy work I’ve done with Tina Stromsted, a wonderful authentic movement therapist in San Francisco.

2. Place intimacy, love, and connection and friendships at the center of my life. Okay, I forgot to add to my addiction list – I can be a workaholic. That’s where this intention comes in.

3. Keep an unwavering commitment to my own nourishment. Nourishment in this sense means what it is that I really need… which is often different than what I want. (I wanted those ice cream sundaes!) This practice has been instilled in me by my Zen teacher, Vicki Austin of San Francisco Zen Center.

4. Practice trust and confidence in the natural generosity of the universe, and my own ability to take care of myself in the material world. Fear of not being or having enough is a big one for me… time, money, etc. This period of not having a ‘regular’ job and paycheck is a way to challenge that belief in myself. I wanted to leave room to be support and surprised by the abundance of the universe, and it’s actually been happening a lot as you may gather from reading my blog.

If you're cruising through and reading my blog, I'd love to hear what your current life intentions are, or even what you think about intentions... are they important to you? are they the same or different from goals? what else are ya thinking? Leave a comment below... c'mon, it's fun!