Quiet Holidays

Winter         Christmas Day                               Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Kate got me a very funky, floppy, curly haired Woolly Mammoth.  I’ve plopped him on the grand piano for now.  He awaits a name, which has not come to me yet.

Santa passed us by otherwise, going on to homes with little boys and girls, waking up bright eyed, eager, hopeful.  The run up to Christmas with movies, music, lights, commercials, worship services, letters to the editor complaining about this aspect or another of how we celebrate it, cranks everybody into a mild, or not so mild, frenzy, hoping, hoping, hoping that their strategy for this Christmas will be the one.  It was here.

We eased through the holidays on a slow, modest note with a few gifts sent out to the grandkids and kids, not much else.

Missing Spirit

Winter                                                            Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Wondered if I was missing something.  Turned on the radio to 99.5 and listened to Christmas music, classical variety.  As I just to wrote to my brother and sister, there is some residual Methodist wandering around in my head, recalling those nights in the church on John Street, candles winking out as congregants extinguished them, leaving the sanctuary in darkness, a voice, in this particular instance, a voice from the Metropolitan Opera, a hometown gal who’d made it big in the big city, singing out of that darkness, O Holy Night.  Still sends shivers up my spine.

There is, too, a small boy waiting for Santa Claus and the luster of mid-day on objects below.  He misses the Christmas tree and the presents and the music.  And family.  Perhaps most of all family.

These both are, however, voices from my past, valued and warmly received when they emerge, but no longer vital in my present, just as the music of the 60’s or the cars of the 50’s still recall a good time, an important time, but a time now gone by.

I pressed the cd button and returned to the lectures on Big History, this time a review of the paleolithic, a historical era critical for our species, but often overlooked.  In this time we migrated first to the southern rim of Asia, then across the waters to Australia, and through Asia, across the land bridge to North America.  Each one of these migrations a test for our new specie’s capacity for collective learning, each one requiring a new set of skills, new tricks to wring energy and resources out of a new environment.  These were tests we passed and in that passing set the stage for our current dominance of the earth’s biosphere.

Christmastime and the Christmas spirit no longer enfolds me as it once did, sweeping down after thanksgiving and placing me in the confusing mix of retail extravaganza and high religious celebration.  Now the Solstice carries some of that numinosity for me, but none of the commercial buzz.  I don’t miss the maw of gifts and money and credit, false gods if ever there were ones.  Quiet, calm, still.  Dark, meditative, inward.  That’s the reason for the season for me now.

So, I’m glad for a place of peace as the Christmas machine churns anxiously all around me.  Still into the incarnation though.

Yo, Yo, Yo

Winter                                                Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

(from yesterday)

Yo, yo, yo.  Merry Christmas.   My stocking today brimmed over with absolutes and passive periphrastics.  Show you how far I am from school.  I’m doing the optional exercises in the back of Wheelock and bought a workbook so I’ll have even more.  Why?  Want to learn this stuff so it stays.  Even with that I know it will require regular work to keep my skills up.  Fortunately, that’s why Jupiter made Ovid.

Kate has 13 working days until she walks out the door forever as a full-time employee.  She’ll stay on as a casual employee for a couple of years, 4-6 shifts a month, and then after that.  Nada.  Nihil.  Non.

Today.  I burrowed into Wheelock yesterday.  Guess I’ve found my hobby.  Or, my vocation/avocation.  Into the museum for a Thaw and an Embarrassment tour.  Then back for more Latin.

10 Best Lists of 10 Best…

Winter                                                         Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

We have passed the tipping point now.  Though the nights continue long for another 3 or 4 days, we begin to gain back light, a few minutes at a time.  This is a slow process and accounts for much of winter’s length.  Those of us who love the winter find this good news; those who don’t, often head south about now.

This is also a time period when newspapers fill up with the ten top stories, ideas, pictures, sporting events.  A time of lists that attempt to summarize a year, or, in this case, sometimes a decade.  I’ve seen many so far and I enjoy them, always weighing the writers choices against my own, wondering what possessed them to add, say youth condoms, to a list of the year’s 10 best ideas (NYT).

It’s a fun game and I intend to play, too.  Perhaps with my 10 favorite works of art, 10 favorite gardening and bee-keeping moments, 10 favorite family events, maybe my 10 favorite political moments, movies, poems.  I don’t know.  Still mulling, but look for something here before the end of the year.

BTW:  The Thaw Collection of Native American Masterpieces ends on January 9th and Embarrassment of Riches ends on January 2nd.  These are both excellent shows and if you haven’t seen them, I recommend them both.

Whoa

Winter Solstice                                                Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

Just to show you the power of the internet.  I sent this e-mail after I wrote the last blog entry and Professor Christian answered within 30 minutes.  From Australia.  How ’bout that?

Hello, Professor Christian,

Very stimulating material.  I love the large frame and the reframe.

Here’s the question:  if the primary outcome of our uniqueness, the idea of collective learning logrolling adaptation into the future, is increasing energy consumption, is there any hope for those of us in the environmental movement who want to throttle back what now seems to me to be the defining characteristic of our species?

I’ve just finished this lecture, so you may answer this question further on, but as a person responsible for the Sierra Club’s legislative work here in Minnesota, it gave me pause.

Thanks for introducing really new ideas to me.  It’s a lot of fun.

Charles,
Delighted that you enjoyed the lectures.  I think the question you ask really is the key and where all this leads (at let for us humans).  If I’m right, collective learning has yielded huge benefits, but also got us in a serious mess.  But collective learning is also, as far as I can see, the only thing likely to get us out of this mess.  So, more funds fir education, research, and particularly research into sustainability in all its forms.  I’m not a politician and, stated like that I may sound simplistic, but I can see no other way of interpreting the story I tried to tell in my lectures.
Thank you very much for your kind email.

David Christian

Homo sapiens the Energy Sink

Winter Solstice                                                                    Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

Still listening to the series of lectures, Big History.  There was a really striking concept in the most recent lecture, one in which Professor David Christian, considered the perennial question:  What makes humans unique?  There have been many answers from imago dei to tool-maker to bi-pedalism to our brain to bulk ratio.  Each of these has run into challenges over time.  Professor Christian offers an idea that was new to me.

His idea is that humans, unique among organisms on earth, perhaps even unique among organisms in our galaxy, have the capacity to adapt quickly and often to their environment.  He offers as evidence the escalating energy controlled by humans ever since the Paleolithic.  This was the time when the humans went of out of Africa and began the vast migrations that put our species in literally all parts of the known world.  Each time an organism enters a new environment it has to adapt to that environment in such a way that it can meet its energy needs.  The familiar finches from Darwin’s Galapagos journey developed beaks suited for the kind of nut or other form of food found in the particular new niche they inhabited.

As Christian points out, organisms usually develop one such trick and apply over and over until their run as a species ends in an extinction event of some kind.  We are unique in that we adapt within one generation to a new or changed environment.  We then pass on those tricks through symbolic language so each generation can build on the learnings of the past.  Christian calls this collective learning.  It is, he says, the truly unique facet of homo sapiens.

How it manifests itself is in our increasing control over energy sources.  We now consume up to 40% of all energy utilized by all organisms on earth.  This means that some species no longer have enough energy and die out.  We are an extinction event ourselves on the order of magnitude of other notables like the Chixilub meteor.

Here’s what really caught me with this idea.  Our unique ability to adapt early and often manifests itself in increasing energy and resource consumption, consumption that has grown remarkably since the migrations of the Paleolithic.  To me this means that those of us in the environmental community have placed ourselves over against the defining outcome of what it means to be human.  I’m not sure what this means quite yet, but I don’t think its good.

Politics and Juicy Lucys

Winter Solstice                                                           Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

Matt’s juicy lucy’s are a gourmet treat to this Indiana boy.  There’s just something about hamburgers, a, and hamburgers with cheese, b, that makes me happy.

Justin Fay, the Sierra Club’s new lobbyist, and I met there to discuss the upcoming session of the Minnesota Legislature and how we might work our issues in this new political world.  Justin’s a pro and we share a similar pragmatic outlook toward politics and government, be mostly right and win, rather than 100% right and lose.  That means he’s a good pick for a lobbyist.

Lots of new twists to the political work this session, not the least among them, a friendly governor.  We don’t know how to work yet in a friendly governor, less friendly legislature setting, but we’ll learn.

While I waited for Justin, I looked at the bar and tried to figure out what made them popular places.  Yes, alcohol, I know, but beyond that.  Matt’s has a lowered, dark ceiling, dim lighting and food.  Women serve men.  Entertainment–TV and jukebox–are the primary non-food/booze elements.  It looks like a cave.  You come in, blinking from the bright snow and the darkness and warmth creates a sort of instant intimacy, a feeling of safety and camaraderie.

Mark Odegard’s introduction to his man-cave in his new place and Paul Strickland’s in his made me aware of the similarities between what many men value in decor and the inside of bars.  Pretty close.

Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice Eve                                            Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

My friend Allison sent me a link to this article, There Goes The Sun.  It contains an excellent digest of solstice activity around the world and also explains some of the astronomical oddities attached to it.  Good reading.

Here’s another tack, a way of setting yourself in the context of the solar system, and, in that way, in the context of the cosmos, headed in one direction–out, external–and another that places you in the context of mother earth, the animal kingdom, mammals, hominids and your self, headed in another direction–inward.

As an astronomical event this solstice marks a transition, for those of us on earth in temperate latitudes, from a day with mostly darkness toward the inverse, experienced on the summer solstice when we make the transition from days with mostly light and again head toward darkness.  From the solar system perspective all that really happens is the earth returns to a spot on its orbit where its angle of declination spreads light out over a wider area, making its affect weaker.  The sun burns on, hydrogen turning to helium, vast amounts of energy released in this fusion reaction, radiating out from the sun toward the planets it holds in thrall.

The sun itself is one of 100-400 billion stars in our Milky Way Galaxy.  “Its name is a translation of the Latin Via Lactea, in turn translated from the Greek Γαλαξίας (Galaxias), referring to the pale band of light formed by stars in the galactic plane as seen from Earth.” Wikipedia.   How many galaxies altogether?  Estimates run as high as 500 billion.  I offer this to give you a sense of the particular significance of one moment in the orbit of one planet around just one of our galaxy’s suns.

Coming in toward you though, we can follow a different ancientrail.  This one responds to the specificity of the solstice and its impact on our northern home–winter.  Squirrels bury nuts.  Bears hibernate.  Dogs grow a coat of inner fur.  Human homes turn on furnaces and humans clothe themselves in ways designed to keep in heat.  Plants like daffodils, tulips, garlic, parsnips and lilies lie at rest in the soil during the cold period brought on by the solstice and the time just before and after it.  We have adapted to the return of the sun to this particular spot in the sky; and, without those adaptations this change in solar intensity would kill us.  In other words this event, so very insignificant when considered against the back drop of 500 billion galaxies, matters critically to those of us here, on Sol’s third planet, Earth.

There is a chance, tomorrow night, the Winter Solstice night, to abide with the darkness and the quiet, Stille Nacht; a chance to light a candle and meditate, take an hour, maybe more, to consider what has taken place in your life since light dominated the day, a time that ended on and around the fall equinox and how it may have changed as the dark began to grow more and more dominant.  This is not, and this is important, a once in a life event; no, this is a once a year time, a point where we can consider our lives, where we can go beyond our animal response to temperature and light, move inward toward the depth of our selves, that inner well where the uniqueness of you dwells.  You can spend time listening to the Self who contains not only who you are today, but who you could become tomorrow.

Or, you could pile up the wood, light the fire, dance naked under the stars and the full winter solstice moon, daring the sun to keep hiding, challenging it to start its journey, or, better to continue its journey, or, even better, challenge the earth to continue its journey so that the suns radiation will strike us with increasing intensity.  The Swedes have such celebrations, will be having them tomorrow night.  Seems a bit much for Minnesota, but there’s always a first time.

Out into Winter Solstice Eve

Winter Solstice Eve                                      Full Winter Solstice Moon

Ode has the meeting tonight, a meeting brushed with snow that left 100 inches of powder in the Rockies.  Jon skied in knee deep powder on Saturday.  I’ll drive in 4-6 inches, not as remarkable, but, consider that we have roads and driveways added to temperature that will keep all this snow with us most likely until March.  Kate says there is a truck-type, looks like a dump truck, filled with bobcats or skip-loaders.  It melts the snow then pushes it out into holding ponds.  Makes sense to somebody, I guess.

This is a leave the red car at home driving event.  Until the driveway’s been plowed and grit laid down tomorrow morning I’m not moving that little front-drive car anywhere.  Though I will have to take it out for a meeting in Minneapolis at 11:30, lunch at Matt’s, home of the juicy lucy.  A juicy lucy, for those of you not familiar with it, is a cheeseburger with the cheese inside two burger patties.  It comes with a coupon for two visits to the cardiologist of your choice.

The dogs can go in the orchard for the winter.  I opened it this morning since there is nothing for them to dig out except bunny rabbits and mice.  That they can do to their heart’s content.

The Vikings game tonight will make travel near the U really, really bad.  Even though I’m off football now, I can see the irony in a cold-weather team playing their first game outside since the metropolitan stadium closed, exactly 50 years ago tonight.  Not only that, an untried Southern rookie will start the game tonight.  Hey, it doesn’t get a weirder than that.

A Northstar Solstice Party

Samhain                                                              Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

After a meal and some awards, members of the Northstar Chapter of the Sierra Club gathered around a bonfire under a clear sky lit by the almost full Winter Solstice Moon.  A poem was read; there were some reflections on Christmas in Santa Fe and the wonder of fire, then the annual solstice event began to break up with couples walking the quarter mile down a moonlit path to the parking lot.

The potluck meal, served before hand, represented the various subcultures within the club.  Vegetarians, vegans and carnivores all had dishes.  My favorites were the creamed corn, the summer sausage and a vegan vegetable and bean soup I made earlier in the day.

Dodge Nature Center is in West St. Paul, one of those spots south and east in the metro area, below St. Paul.  We live north and a bit west of downtown Minneapolis so we drove across most of the metro area to get there.

It was nice to have Kate along and I hope we can begin to do things like this more and more once she retires.