Category Archives: Great Work

Land of Enchantment

Spring                                                      Hare Moon

Santa Fe.  The adobe here catches the eyes, then the scent of pinyon smoke and the art galleries.  Also, the number of thin gray-haired citizens moving around with purpose, as if channeling Georgia O’Keefe.  It’s easy to imagine a chunk of this Latin influenced culture breaking off and taking root in other places.  An emphasis on beauty, use of native products and Latin American diffusion carried by sophisticated Latinos, artists, writers and outdoor enthusiasts.  Maybe as Chaco Canyon was to the pueblo cultures of the 850-1150 period.

By this time in the trip the Garmin, once unwelcome, has made me her bitch.  I hang on her every word, follow her exactly.  I think the voice model they hired might have been a dominatrix at some point.  It does take away the anxiety of navigating, especially in cities and off the main highway systems.  I like that.

When I drove from Holbrook to Gallup at 4 am yesterday, a sickle moon hung in the sky with Venus about 4 degrees away in line with the bottom point of the sickle.  It is an image that I will work with in the journal.  The pueblo people emulate the clouds, building up communities, then dissipating and moving on.  This moon hung in a clear sky and it was not difficult at all to stand with the pueblo people and the dine of the last thousand plus years and see with them the blessing.  The clouds created by the heat of the day would extend this beauty into the blue reaches of a sunlit sky.

Our kiva sees the same moon and planet, sees clouds in the day and the procession of stars at night.  Yes, our seasons are different, but plants grow in both our kivas and so do animals.  We are different, yet we are the same.

What Is Your Kiva?

Spring                                          Hare Moon

Santa Fe.  Staying in a reasonably priced motel right in the heart of adobe filled Santa Fe.  The cathedral featured in Death Comes for the Archbishop is only a block or two away.  I came to Santa Fe after seeing Chaco Canyon.

Due to a weird late night mix up I checked into a motel-cheap-no phone, no wi-fi she said.  I didn’t mind.  She forgot to add no heat.  This in Holbrook, AZ high up just past the Mogollon Rim.  49 when I pulled in. I was too tired to hassle it so I went to sleep.

Fortunately, years of living with Kate have taught me cold sleeping skills.  It was fine until I woke up 4 am. I’d never shifting my bed time from home, nor my rising, so the 6 am Minnesota equivalent had me awake.  I decided to get in the warm car and drive to Chaco Canyon.  Which I did.

This is a haunting place, difficult to get to now as it must have been difficult to get to in the period between 850 a.d and 1150 a.d. when it flourished.  It was, for that time period the ceremonial for the pueblo peoples.  The architecture of Chaco County shows up in many other pueblo peoples sites, though much more modest in scale.

The Chaco folks built big.  And they built stone on stone, with a mud mortar.  The construction technique reminded me of dry stone fences in the East.

The part of each person’s inner life that reaches out to a particular patch of mother earth has created thousands of small kivas, I’ll call them.  The pueblo people go into the below ground circular stone structures called kiva’s as if returning to the womb. Each time they come out, they’re reborn.  So a kiva is a patch of earth where you feel reborn.  For me it’s our gardens and woods and orchard, for the pueblo people its Chaco Canyon and the Four Sacred Mountains.

Each patch of earth needs a kiva that holds it dear and feels responsible for its care.  And who, in turn, are reborn in the giving of that care by the earth.  This is a faith with so many worship sites and the worship is different for each kiva.  What kiva do you belong to?

The True Apocalypse

Spring                                                     Hare Moon

Tucson.  The Horse Latitudes.

The second of the three workshops, this one focusing on depth work, finished this afternoon.  Again, because of the nature of the workshops, they’re hard to summarize and its difficult to convey their spirit except to say its most like a contemplative secular retreat.  Which is, come to think of it, just what it is.

I can convey the spirit of this workshop by transcribing here the results of the next to last exercise. This one was to create a spontaneous statement, a testament, of what we believe to be true right now.  This was written following a long meditation, with no forethought.

Here are the things I know to be true:

Love forms the cross on which we all live.  The soil is the foundation of life. Our ancestors hold us up, have our backs. (FYI: those of you at Frank’s will know how this came to mind.)

The sun is a god who gives of himself wholly.  The light of the sun is holy and blesses what it touches.

The soil embraces the sun, marries the sun, goes into throes of ecstasy with the sun producing, producing, producing.

As the earth turns the soils embrace of the sun weakens and strengthens, weakens and strengthens and from these rhythms we get life eternal, abundant, gracious and undeserved.

We celebrate each other as moving, loving sons and daughters borne of the sun and the soils embrace-nothing more and nothing less.  We owe ourselves fealty to these two, our parents, our true god and our true goddess without whom we are nothing-brittle, cold, frozen, shattered.

We need no other religion, no other philosophy, no other politics than fealty to sun and soil.  They have given us what we need, they will give us what we need-unless we change their marriage to one which can no longer include the human family.  If we do, it will be the final anathema, the true apocalypse and the end of a long love affair.

Sharp, Pointy Things

Spring in the Horse Latitudes                         Hare Moon

After the workshop ended at 4:30 pm, I got in the car and headed east on Speedway, then north on Carmino Seco and after that ESE on the Old Spanish Trail.  It’s pretty curvy so it might really be an old Spanish trail.  My aim was to make the eastern chunk, the Rincon Mountain section of the Saguaro National Park, preferably before the visitor center closed.  I wanted a book or two cacti.

Missed it.  They were folding the flag when I got there, but the scenic loop, an 8 mile one way drive through a portion of the park stayed open until sunset.  I knew that and it was the other reason I went.

As the sun set, I drove slowly around the loop, stopping frequently for photographs and looking around.  This is the Sonoran desert, the driest desert in the U.S. and one of four deserts that have some portion in Arizona.  At several pull-outs I exited the car and stood looking across the valley floor where the saguaro, in their oddly human way stood embracing each other, cradling children or watching over them.  There seemed to be roughly equal distances around the big ones, as if, I thought, they had territories to defend.

There were streakies and jack rabbits with their thin erect ears.  This was evening and the critters had begun to come out for their daily life.  It cools down quickly and the contrast with the heat of late afternoon is evident.

I’m so glad to have my energy back after fighting that damned cold.  After the park I found a Mexican restaurant, not much of a feat here, and had a wonderful dinner for $13.00.  Leftovers in the fridge.

Burned

Imbolc                                                             Hare Moon

Ross Douthat, a columnist for the New York Times, is a thoughtful conservative.  So is D.J. Tice, editorial writer for the Star-Tribune, though Tice often sets my kettle to boil.  Both had interesting pieces in their respective papers today, Douthat on individualism and the millennials, Tice on entitlement reform and the baby boom.

Tice writes as a baby boomer and asks us for another shot at society wide influence by seeking and seeing implemented reforms to both Social Security and Medicare.  I agree with him.  We need to solve this issue now, as the largest cohort to enter the python is only a fraction of the way in.  It is our responsibility to demand sensible changes and that our representatives in congress and the White House enact them.

What are they?  I don’t know the arguments right now well enough to recommend, but I know such arguments exist and I would stand with the fiscally responsible ones.  Tice and I agree this time.  I also appreciate his writing as a baby boomer and as one who calls for action.

Douthat read this Pew report on the millennials and concluded (though you have to read between his weasel words) that civilization as we know it is doomed.  This is a favorite conservative argument when societal trends point toward things they don’t like, in this instance, more individualism.

I don’t agree with Douthat.  Conservatives like to place individualism as an ethos over against communitarianism, the former eroding the latter until we’re all small, armed, loosely affiliated gangs.  The reality is much more complicated.  Individualism does not go over against communitarianism.

As an existentialist I believe we are each in this world alone, that our individuality is inescapable and incapable of being increased by any sort of belief or action.  Individualism is a definition of what it means to be human.  As an existentialist, I also know that we can recognize the remarkable affinity we share with others of our species.  And more, with a land ethic like Aldo Leopolds, we can recognize and act on the remarkable affinity we share with all of the natural world, animate and inanimate.  We are, after all, stardust.

Thus, the signal act of the aware universe (that is, you and me), is to bridge the abyss between the depths of one person and that of others, to acknowledge our solidarity as a creature aware of its own death.  We are all, as Camus said, in the river rushing toward our end, and we are in the river together.  It is this common bond we share that makes us compassionate toward the other and makes us want to ease their burdens in this one lifetime.

Now, here’s what’s really interesting in both of these columnist’s pieces today.  Both invoke a future disaster, one fiscal and the other communitarian, but both leave out the certain calamity that requires our action now, our action as a global community: mitigation and adaptation to climate change.  They both speak for the future, yet it is the heat and the storms and the floods and the rising oceans that reach from that future with the most destructive force.

Granted we have to multi-task, communities and nations can do that, though it’s very difficult for individuals.  But to bemoan the future without acknowledging the carbon in our atmosphere (so to speak) will only ensure a time in which individuals and poor old people will burn.

Ending

Imbolc                                                              Hare Moon

In that slightly down place that completing a course produces.  Yes, it feels great to have stuck with it, finished.  And, yes, it feels very good to have the new knowledge.  But there’s now a hole where the climate change course was.  This is not the same feeling I had when ModPo and the Modern/Post-Modern courses finished.  That was more like exhilaration.

This one mattered to me.  I’m not sure where or what I’ll do next. There are books to read, several recommended by the professors.  There’s the America Votes work and the possibility of using Great Wheel as some kind of vehicle to further mitigation and adaptation in Minnesota. But right now I feel deflated, a bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task that lies ahead for all of us.  This will pass.  But it’s there.

Since I finished earlier than I imagined, I’ll be able to work on my query letters tomorrow. I am also starting a new course focused on personal change that I don’t expect to be as demanding as this course was.  I let Whitman slide, did basically nothing and that’s the first one I’ve done that with, but I had overextended myself and something had to give.

 

Kairos

Imbolc                                                      Hare Moon

A bit more on an old topic, inspired by thinking about Jenkinson’s remarks that appear below.

The humanities are important as just that, the human forming portion of our educational deposit.  Over the millennia, stretching back to the time of gods emerging from the deserts of the Middle East and continuing right through the poetry and literature and painting and sculpture, the movies and television and games, the sports and horticulture and domestic arts of our day, we have had to grow into our lives, into our identity as human beings. It is not easy, but it is the most important task we have and the one which the family, the schools, our societies and cultures exist to engage.

This is not an argument for the humanities over science, technology and mathematics.  Far from it.  We have needed and will continue to need the valuable insights that come from deep thinking about the atomic structure of things, the hard rock science of the earth, the softer touches of the biological inquiries and the neuroscientific and all the other forms of scientific endeavor with which we humans engage.  But consider the difference in importance between raising a boy or a girl and lifting a rocket ship to the moon.  Which matters more?

It is not in the theory of evolution or in the biological sciences or in matters astronomical that we find the answer to such a question.  Even though we often pretend it is in this insecure age the answer is not in the psychological studies.  No, the answer to a question of value, of significance, of which is more than this lies only in the realm of culture.

The most important task of our time is said simply and defined humanistically, but requires the sciences in all their potency to finish:  create a sustainable human presence on this earth.

Why is this most important?  Because if it is not accomplished, the earth, no matter our scientific prowess, will scour us from her face.  She will make the thin layer of our habitation, from maybe 6 inches below the surface of the soil, to maybe 12 miles or so above the earth-the troposphere where most weather occurs-outside the parameters necessary for our existence.  That is, as the biologists are found of saying, an extinction level event.

So we are at a moment of kairos, a greek word meaning the opportune time.  Paul Tillich a theologian of the last century saw kairotic moments as “…crises in history which create an opportunity for, and indeed demand, an existential decision by the human subject.” Wiki His clearest example from the mid-point of that bloody hundred years was World War II, but even WW II and WW I put together do not equal the crisis we face now, a kairotic moment which, as Tillich said, demands an existential decision by us all.

(damaged relief of the Greek god Kairos of 4 century. BC)

The will and the skill to make that decision, a decision for or against our children and our grandchildren’s future, lies not in the sciences, but in the humanities.  It is in our sense of who we are as a species, as a being with a history, that we will find what we need to decide.  And, contrary to many, I am now convinced that the biggest barriers confounding our ability to make a non-suicidal decision lie in the realm of governance, a thoroughly humanistic endeavor.

Strip away those disciplines that force us to consider our humanity and we will be left with the calculus of Malthus.

 

 

 

A Letter To Saudi Arabia

Imbolc                                                               Valentine Moon

Brother Mark, within a hundred miles of the Rub al Kahli, the empty quarter, asked me about the winter and the garden.  Here’s my reply:

It has been our most severe winter since 1978-79, which was only 8 years after I moved up here.  We just got 10 inches of snow and the temperatures are headed back down.  It’s 2 right now and we have -15 for a low forecast this Thursday.  Snow in our front yard is as high as my hip.  The raised beds in the vegetable garden have disappeared.

All the dogs are good right now.  Gertie gets around much better since she had the surgical crimp removed from her left rear knee.

Kate’s away at quilting retreat with her sister Anne.  Just me, the dogs and lots of snow.

Last year I began using products from International Ag Labs and they increased our production even though I used them for only part of the season.  The broadcast fertilizer went down fall and this spring I add nitrogen.  There’s also a transplant formula to use when planting.  These products improved the microbial life in the soil and add minerals found missing through soil tests.  I tested the vegetable garden and the orchard last fall.

International Ag labs moves gardens and farms toward sustainable agriculture by creating healthy soil.  This has always made sense to me and I’m pleased to have found them.  Bill Schmidt found them.

Over this weekend I plan to place my seed and plant orders.  Once I’ve done that I can 10002010 09 25_0301order nitrogen in forms specific for specific plants.  This means I will no longer have to rotate my crops because I’m building soils designed optimally for each plant type.

Tomatoes, beets, cucumbers, melons, bush beans, sugar snap peas, leeks, greens, herbs and peppers.  The garlic’s already in the ground.  This fall I’ll plant scallions at the same time I plant garlic.

The orchard is part of the program this year.  That means I’ll be spraying the trees as well as the vegetables.  These are foliar feedings, not insecticides.  That’s a weekly, sometimes twice-weekly job. There, are, too soil drenches every other week.

Aren’t you glad you asked?

A Snow Day

Imbolc                                                                    Valentine Moon

My first meeting with the America Votes’ folks canceled. All that snow.  There was an hour long presentation over the phone with accompanying slides on an Adobe platform, adobe.connect.  Polling data.  Very interesting and completely confidential.

The technology interested me. I listened to the presentation on my cell phone while the presenter clicked through a PowerPoint presentation, using small green arrows to indicate his focus.  There were 25 of us on the call and there were few questions.  Over the phone without video is a terrible way to have a meeting.  I should know.  I conducted them weekly during legislative sessions for three years for the Sierra Clubs Legislative committee.

(a screenshot of adobe connect)adobe.connect

Even so, like today, when participants are dispersed or the timing is inconvenient, then the phone allows everyone access to information and decision making.  That advantage makes the phone a reasonable alternative, if not a desirable one.

This meeting ended with a time for questions, but there were few.  Phones isolate us as much as they connect us.  We were each participants in a meeting for one.  Not much to discuss with yourself.

I look forward to meeting these folks in person in April.  I’ll be in Tucson during the March meeting.

Merchants of Doubt

Imbolc                                                            Valentine Moon

 

Spent yesterday doing the Climate Change course.  A fascinating series of lectures titled Merchants of Doubt.  Primary author of the book, Naomi Oreskes, is a historian of science at U. Cal. San Diego and a lecturer in this course.  This book and her lectures make a compelling and important case that climate change denial has its roots in the work of a small group of distinguished scientists, three initially:  Robert Jastrow, Frederick Seitz, and William Nierenberg.  All three were cold war physicists working on nuclear arms.  All three distinguished themselves.  Jastrow became head of the Goddard Institute for Space Studies, Seitz was president of the National Academy of Science and Rockefeller University, Nierenberg headed the Scripps Institute for almost two decades.

Read Great Wheel for the expanded story. The three of them worked on an advisory panel for Reagan’s Star Wars Defense Initiative.  When 6,500 scientists refused to take SDI money or work on it in any way by signing a petition stating their intentions, it caused great concern among these three cold war physicists.

The three created the George C. Marshall Institute to challenge the scientific consensus against Star Wars.  Seitz also worked for RJ Reynolds as a consultant.  In 1989 the cold war ended. The U.S. had won the cold war.  This deflated the rationale for the Institute; but, using the strategies developed by the tobacco industry, “doubt mongering”, the Institute went on to attack the science behind acid rain, ozone holes and eventually, global warming.

This methodology, honed in tobacco wars and practiced against acid rain and ozone (unsuccessfully, as it turned out), has been blisteringly effective against climate change science and its policy implications.  Why?  Read the rest of the story on Great Wheel later today or early tomorrow.