I didn’t start really craving a three foot snowstorm until my knee started to bother me from running a few days ago. Up until then, I was happy to roller ski and run remembering that it was only six months ago that I was whining about too much snow and how it was hindering my summer activities, like running and cycling.
While my husband obsessively studies the weather maps and practically becomes hysterical when he sees a cloud, I just shake my head marveling at the folly of it all. All the beseeching, lamentations, cursing and bouts of uncontrollable sobbing when the sun is out yet again…Don’t they know that Mother Nature has supreme wisdom? She is unconcerned about the economic impact on ski reports and all the employees so desperate to begin earning money.
“It wasn’t MY idea to cut holes in the forest and put chairlifts in so people could ride up and slide down all day. If this silly idea of skiing were mine, I would have told them to walk up and ski around all the trees. It’s good exercise. People have become too fat and under-active anyway, they could use it.”
“But what about all the poor employees who need to earn money?” I argued trying to engage her empathetic side.
“When in the 53 years that you’ve know me have I ever been predictable?” I became defensive about how our technology captures her moods fairly accurately. “We can predict your moods pretty accurately,” I said almost with a tinge of haughtiness.
“I let you people do that for a while just until you get over confident and full of yourselves and then I usually become contrary and sometimes downright violent just to teach you not to get complacent. Remember last year?”
“You mean all those times when we thought it was going to be summer soon and then it was winter again?”
“Indeed. And don’t forget about earthquakes, tsunamis and Hurricane Katrina.”
“So how is a ski resort supposed to operate profitably when we can’t predict winter? Does it entertain you to watch all the corporate executives wringing their hands and drinking too many martinis?”
She took a long look at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Well actually it IS rather entertaining. Look, as I said, people do all kinds of silly things in order to make money. Ski resorts depend on me to provide them with the means to make money and I do not make weather to suit people who run around in expensive ski sweaters. I make weather to do what is best for the trees and rivers and lakes. Even though you people think you’re in charge of what’s best for the planet, you’re not. Remember, there are fish and birds who have survived for millions of years without polluting themselves out of existence. Humans have managed to destroy entire continents and pollute oceans in less than a hundred years. You’ve even wiped out members of your own species who knew better than you how to live with me not in opposition to me. Remember what Carl Jung said almost sixty years ago?
“But our progressiveness,though it may result in a great many delighted wish fulfillments, piles up an equally gigantic Promethean debt which has to be paid off from time to time in the form of hideous catastrophes" (CW 9.1,PAR 276).
“Hideous catastrophes like Hurricane Katrina and wildfires and tsunamis?” I inquired.
“Precisely,” said Mother Nature shooing a swarm of bees from beneath her skirts.
“So maybe we should trust that you know what’s best not only for the planet but for us too? And when people are unemployed because there’s now snow, perhaps we should be innovative in thinking of other kinds of fun, healthy activities that people can engage in so that people will come up to visit our resorts even when there isn’t snow?”
“Now you’re getting it!” she said.
“If it were up to me, I’d plan to offer mountain biking or hiking or having big yoga workshops or meditation training…or even cooking and winemaking classes!” I said.
“Imagine how good it would be if people actually slowed down, got out of their cars and explored this area more with their own two feet,” she said patting one of her most precious Juniper trees.
“I’m actually giving you the extended summer and fall that you wanted last June,” she reminded me.
And we walked together for hours smelling the pine and watching the river flow through its frost-covered banks.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
THE WELCOME HOME SHELTER OF TRUCKEE
By Kimball C. Pier
Does Anybody Want to Donate a House?
I have a dream that in the town of Truckee and in the surrounding communities, nobody wanders the streets looking for a nook or corner where the cold isn’t so biting to settle in for the night, that nobody is hungry, and that nobody dies alone with nothing but pavement to hold them as they draw a final breath. I envision a community that wraps its arms around anyone who is alone during the holiday season to ensure they are fed, warm and welcomed, that nobody is left holding a cardboard sign asking for help as the last car leaves the grocery store parking lot at night.
At this time, we have no emergency shelter which means that there will be people wandering the streets looking for protection against the bitter cold. In my dream, those who own commercial buildings and homes that sit empty and dark week after week welcome those who have no place to be. Hearts open wide and all the reasons why not just go away because the time to give is now upon us and we may not have another chance to experience the joy of a heart opening to grace.
In Seattle or New York, when winter comes and shelters are full, the warmth of subway grates to sleep on or doorways offer some protection from the elements. Seattle has tent cities, a coalition between churches to host the tent cities throughout the year. Encampments move from the inner city out into the suburbs and neighborhoods of Seattle and although people were reticent at first, surveys indicate that for the most part, the homeless people who live in their midst for a month or so each year are friendly, cooperative and thankful. They clean up the litter along the streets and mind the rules of the encampment which includes no drugs and alcohol and no violence.
But those are cities, what about small towns and ski resorts?
In Truckee, poverty has never fit in well with the persona of a resort community. Like the unwanted kid on the playground, poverty is not invited into the circle to be a part of the community. Truckee, like many ski resort towns, has a rather dark history of colonization by white opportunists who dislocated Native American people or exterminated them. In resort communities such as ours, the history lurks under the clean sidewalks and renovated buildings; poverty is made invisible, shoved underneath the layers of faux quaintness. Worried residents and merchants wish the ragged ones would just go back to where they came from instead of haunting places like Truckee where it’s supposed to look nice and be a fun place to recreate. After all, we say, Truckee is not the place to be if you’re homeless. But really, there is no place in this country with its extraordinary albeit disproportionate wealth, where anybody should be without a home. In our communities, thousands of second homes sit empty month after month and many buildings sit vacant awaiting purchase or rental. In our country, extraordinary wealth abounds among the top 1% who make 40% of the nation’s income. (www.npr.org/2011/04/16/135472478/study-americas-wealth). And according to one survey, in the strata between 1-10%, Americans make over $1 million per year. (http://motherjones.com/politics/2011/02/income-inequality-in-america-chart-graph). In Truckee and the surrounding communities, there is evidence of extraordinary wealth and extreme poverty, yet we have only one organization, Project MANA which feeds the hungry families and individuals from Truckee to the North Lake Tahoe communities. We have very little in the way of accessible medical and dental care for those who do not meet criteria for MediCal or county medical assistance or who have no insurance or money to pay for healthcare, and we have no services for the homeless at all.
But guess what? Aspen and Vail have homeless shelters. There are multiple services for those who need a warm place to stay and food to eat. The Aspen Homeless Shelter and related services are a supported by Aspen Valley medical Foundation, a group of doctors and medical professionals who developed this organization to fund services for people without the basics, shelter, food and medical care. (http://www.avmfaspen.org/communityInit/AHshelter.html). Imagine…Aspen and Vail, places where I can’t afford to breathe the air having a place for people who are without a home and services to help them get on their feet again.
In our community, the homeless survey of 2010 turned up 66 homeless people, which did not include those living in trailers or dwellings without sources of heat, water or light. Each winter, hundreds of youth aged 18-28 who come here for resort jobs struggle to keep fed, sheltered and clothed while they work for our resorts without access to healthcare. We do not consider them to be part of the poverty culture, yet they are. The statistics on youth in this age category living on the edge of homelessness and disease are staggering. So when the resorts decide suddenly to fire thirty to fifty workers making $9.00 per hour, many cannot afford to continue paying rent, buy food or a ticket back to wherever they came from. A business decision like that is made without much consideration for the human consequences, with the priority being placed on profitability of a business. With respect to the fiscal health of ski resorts, I argue that there must be consideration given to how people are treated and a balance struck between good business and sudden termination of employees without consideration of the impact not only on the individuals but on our community resources. An emergency shelter would have given these youth an option other than sleeping in their cars or couch surfing or sleeping outdoors.
I ask myself how I am participating in perpetuating this problem of passing the buck and excusing the problem of hunger and homelessness here. I find myself wanting to stop and give the little I have to everyone who holds a sign outside of Safeway, but I often don’t. I tell myself that I can’t help everyone, that they might use it to buy alcohol and then I’d be creating more of a problem, or that they might be in need of something more than just money and then what would I do? I can’t bring them all home.
A few weeks ago, I was faced with this issue. On a cold, rainy day a woman appeared at my office, wet, cold and crying. She’d been put out by a relative who was understandably fed up with her drinking. She wasn’t drunk; she drank intermittently as many recovering alcoholics do. However, the discovery that she’d been drinking was just too much for her family who had endured many bouts of relapse interspersed with sobriety. As she sat shivering in my office rocking back and forth sobbing with fear and remorse, I scrambled to find her someplace to go. It was 4:30PM and I set about calling every single treatment program I could find in Placer and Nevada Counties. None were able to accept clients without insurance or financial resources, the funding for such clients having dried up over the past few years. There was no way I was going to allow her to sleep outdoors so I resolved the problem by putting her up in a hotel and getting her some food which bought me some time to find a shelter down in Roseville or Sacramento. And I could sleep knowing she would be warm and safe. Still, part of me felt really guilty that I didn’t just bring her home with me. If I were really a person with the heart of Buddha, I would have, but I’m just plain old me who likes her home to be a refuge.
Another woman, young and disabled wanders from place to place every day. She’s hard to pin down and teeters on homelessness. Her nightly bed depends upon what mood her mother is in. Again, I wonder if I could bring her home with me and whether she would even be comfortable if I did. She seems to need her routine and the small bit of structure she has created for herself amidst the chaos of her life. So I meet her where she is and we do the same dance over and over again. She agrees to get signed up for disability, medical services and food assistance and we schedule appointments she rarely shows up for. One day, I picked her up hitch hiking and noticed her shoes were literally worn right off her feet so we went to the shoe store. I worry now that it’s so cold that she’ll give up and wander into the cold and freeze to death just like the man who was found dead of exposure in Truckee the other morning when the temperatures dropped to 12 degrees.
The Welcome Home ShelterI have a dream that what I would do when someone shows up at my door wet, cold and hungry and needs a place to feel welcome, a place where eyes don’t turn away and the tea kettle sings is make a quick phone call to my imagined Welcome Home Shelter in Truckee. I would discover that indeed there was a space for the person holding the cardboard sign whose shoes were worn right off his feet. It wouldn’t matter how he got here or why, it would only matter that he felt welcome and cared for. I would ask him to get in my car so I could bring him to Truckee’s Welcome Home shelter.
“Can I bring my dog?” I look at the thin, ragged dog wagging her tail and looking at me with her hopeful, amber eyes.
“Of course you can bring your dog!” I exclaim. The Welcome Home shelter has a yard and volunteers who care for pets. And I discover as I chat with him on the way to the Welcome Home shelter that he once was a lot like me. He has two children and he had a wife. But he lost his job and his home. Then he began to unravel and his wife left. He searched for work elsewhere but found none. He became ill and had no money for healthcare, so he drifted from place to place until depression and hopelessness were constant companions. Drinking is a problem but he'd like to quit since it’s making him sicker. He ended up here because he thought he might work at a ski resort but he realizes he looks so bad and with an illness like his, it’s pretty hard to function some days. As he tells his story, I see more and more of myself and I realize once again that none of us are separate and we must care for one another as we care for ourselves.
I have a dream that The Welcome Home shelter is donated by a family who was having a hard time paying for a second home now that the bottom has dropped out of the economy. They just figured it was the right thing to do for a town they’d been visiting for a long time and that it was time to give something back, to contribute to the well-being of those less fortunate. Or even more far-fetched, I have a dream that the Bank of America or Wells Fargo just donated a couple of houses in foreclosure because they felt it was time to stop being so greedy and opportunistic. The CEO’s just came to our Truckee Homeless Coalition meeting and said they felt it was their karma to donate the houses for a Welcome Home shelter. And then I woke up from my dream for a minute…What about “NIMBY?” Oh yes…that. Who would want a shelter in their neighborhood? Who wants the crowd of alcoholic, drug-addicted people who might be dangerous in their neighborhood? And then I think about how many people with severe alcoholism, violent behavior, drug addiction and mental health challenges already live in our (your) neighborhoods. The only difference is they have a place to live and it’s harder to see. The bars are full at night and when they close, the people who have had too much to drink get in their cars and try to drive home. How dangerous is that? Most homeless folks don’t have cars so at least they aren’t killing people or themselves by driving drunk. And sex offenders are everywhere too, some disguised as coaches and Boy Scout leaders and teachers or pastors that you trust. At least if an individuals are clearly unkempt and perhaps homeless rather than woven into our sanitized culture as coaches, pastors or Boy Scout leaders, they stand out and you can protect yourself and your children. It’s when they look like you that they’re dangerous and most sex offenders do look just like you.
In my dream, the Welcome Home Shelter (which is drug and alcohol free) has about six bedrooms, a playroom for kids (supervised), and a living room with a library and a television for movies. It has four bathrooms with tubs and showers, it has a huge kitchen for preparing community meals and a dining room where people eat together. It has an office where residents can meet with therapists or other community services workers, a computer for researching jobs or educational opportunities and it has lots of outdoor space for walking around and enjoying nature. Oh and a fenced yard for pets. And a garage for the van that brings people around to look for jobs or get to their healthcare providers. The van was donated by the people who make Hummers because those who consume the most should give back the most. I dream big, don’t I?
The Welcome Home Shelter would be funded by medical professionals and other individuals and grantors who want to participate in creating well-being accessible to all. It would be staffed by volunteers and a few paid staff from the community and by representatives from local agencies because everyone wants to be a part of this amazing gesture of love and compassion. Truckee wants to follow in Aspen and Vail’s footsteps in that way, wanting to be a model for other ski reports and small communities where poverty exists but is less obvious than in New York, Seattle or San Francisco. And residents of The Welcome Home Shelter would be expected to keep it clean, share the cooking and maintenance and to contribute to the community as well. We would have our artists to help them express their creative talent and musicians to come and sing and play because music is the voice of the soul.
The great thing is, since this home was donated by a family, we don’t have to worry about offending merchants. In my dream, the neighbors welcome having such a fine example of human generosity and kindness right in their midst. The house glows with love and warmth and the glow can be seen on dark nights from far away.
So does anyone want to donate a house?
Does Anybody Want to Donate a House?
I have a dream that in the town of Truckee and in the surrounding communities, nobody wanders the streets looking for a nook or corner where the cold isn’t so biting to settle in for the night, that nobody is hungry, and that nobody dies alone with nothing but pavement to hold them as they draw a final breath. I envision a community that wraps its arms around anyone who is alone during the holiday season to ensure they are fed, warm and welcomed, that nobody is left holding a cardboard sign asking for help as the last car leaves the grocery store parking lot at night.
At this time, we have no emergency shelter which means that there will be people wandering the streets looking for protection against the bitter cold. In my dream, those who own commercial buildings and homes that sit empty and dark week after week welcome those who have no place to be. Hearts open wide and all the reasons why not just go away because the time to give is now upon us and we may not have another chance to experience the joy of a heart opening to grace.
In Seattle or New York, when winter comes and shelters are full, the warmth of subway grates to sleep on or doorways offer some protection from the elements. Seattle has tent cities, a coalition between churches to host the tent cities throughout the year. Encampments move from the inner city out into the suburbs and neighborhoods of Seattle and although people were reticent at first, surveys indicate that for the most part, the homeless people who live in their midst for a month or so each year are friendly, cooperative and thankful. They clean up the litter along the streets and mind the rules of the encampment which includes no drugs and alcohol and no violence.
But those are cities, what about small towns and ski resorts?
In Truckee, poverty has never fit in well with the persona of a resort community. Like the unwanted kid on the playground, poverty is not invited into the circle to be a part of the community. Truckee, like many ski resort towns, has a rather dark history of colonization by white opportunists who dislocated Native American people or exterminated them. In resort communities such as ours, the history lurks under the clean sidewalks and renovated buildings; poverty is made invisible, shoved underneath the layers of faux quaintness. Worried residents and merchants wish the ragged ones would just go back to where they came from instead of haunting places like Truckee where it’s supposed to look nice and be a fun place to recreate. After all, we say, Truckee is not the place to be if you’re homeless. But really, there is no place in this country with its extraordinary albeit disproportionate wealth, where anybody should be without a home. In our communities, thousands of second homes sit empty month after month and many buildings sit vacant awaiting purchase or rental. In our country, extraordinary wealth abounds among the top 1% who make 40% of the nation’s income. (www.npr.org/2011/04/16/135472478/study-americas-wealth). And according to one survey, in the strata between 1-10%, Americans make over $1 million per year. (http://motherjones.com/politics/2011/02/income-inequality-in-america-chart-graph). In Truckee and the surrounding communities, there is evidence of extraordinary wealth and extreme poverty, yet we have only one organization, Project MANA which feeds the hungry families and individuals from Truckee to the North Lake Tahoe communities. We have very little in the way of accessible medical and dental care for those who do not meet criteria for MediCal or county medical assistance or who have no insurance or money to pay for healthcare, and we have no services for the homeless at all.
But guess what? Aspen and Vail have homeless shelters. There are multiple services for those who need a warm place to stay and food to eat. The Aspen Homeless Shelter and related services are a supported by Aspen Valley medical Foundation, a group of doctors and medical professionals who developed this organization to fund services for people without the basics, shelter, food and medical care. (http://www.avmfaspen.org/communityInit/AHshelter.html). Imagine…Aspen and Vail, places where I can’t afford to breathe the air having a place for people who are without a home and services to help them get on their feet again.
In our community, the homeless survey of 2010 turned up 66 homeless people, which did not include those living in trailers or dwellings without sources of heat, water or light. Each winter, hundreds of youth aged 18-28 who come here for resort jobs struggle to keep fed, sheltered and clothed while they work for our resorts without access to healthcare. We do not consider them to be part of the poverty culture, yet they are. The statistics on youth in this age category living on the edge of homelessness and disease are staggering. So when the resorts decide suddenly to fire thirty to fifty workers making $9.00 per hour, many cannot afford to continue paying rent, buy food or a ticket back to wherever they came from. A business decision like that is made without much consideration for the human consequences, with the priority being placed on profitability of a business. With respect to the fiscal health of ski resorts, I argue that there must be consideration given to how people are treated and a balance struck between good business and sudden termination of employees without consideration of the impact not only on the individuals but on our community resources. An emergency shelter would have given these youth an option other than sleeping in their cars or couch surfing or sleeping outdoors.
I ask myself how I am participating in perpetuating this problem of passing the buck and excusing the problem of hunger and homelessness here. I find myself wanting to stop and give the little I have to everyone who holds a sign outside of Safeway, but I often don’t. I tell myself that I can’t help everyone, that they might use it to buy alcohol and then I’d be creating more of a problem, or that they might be in need of something more than just money and then what would I do? I can’t bring them all home.
A few weeks ago, I was faced with this issue. On a cold, rainy day a woman appeared at my office, wet, cold and crying. She’d been put out by a relative who was understandably fed up with her drinking. She wasn’t drunk; she drank intermittently as many recovering alcoholics do. However, the discovery that she’d been drinking was just too much for her family who had endured many bouts of relapse interspersed with sobriety. As she sat shivering in my office rocking back and forth sobbing with fear and remorse, I scrambled to find her someplace to go. It was 4:30PM and I set about calling every single treatment program I could find in Placer and Nevada Counties. None were able to accept clients without insurance or financial resources, the funding for such clients having dried up over the past few years. There was no way I was going to allow her to sleep outdoors so I resolved the problem by putting her up in a hotel and getting her some food which bought me some time to find a shelter down in Roseville or Sacramento. And I could sleep knowing she would be warm and safe. Still, part of me felt really guilty that I didn’t just bring her home with me. If I were really a person with the heart of Buddha, I would have, but I’m just plain old me who likes her home to be a refuge.
Another woman, young and disabled wanders from place to place every day. She’s hard to pin down and teeters on homelessness. Her nightly bed depends upon what mood her mother is in. Again, I wonder if I could bring her home with me and whether she would even be comfortable if I did. She seems to need her routine and the small bit of structure she has created for herself amidst the chaos of her life. So I meet her where she is and we do the same dance over and over again. She agrees to get signed up for disability, medical services and food assistance and we schedule appointments she rarely shows up for. One day, I picked her up hitch hiking and noticed her shoes were literally worn right off her feet so we went to the shoe store. I worry now that it’s so cold that she’ll give up and wander into the cold and freeze to death just like the man who was found dead of exposure in Truckee the other morning when the temperatures dropped to 12 degrees.
The Welcome Home ShelterI have a dream that what I would do when someone shows up at my door wet, cold and hungry and needs a place to feel welcome, a place where eyes don’t turn away and the tea kettle sings is make a quick phone call to my imagined Welcome Home Shelter in Truckee. I would discover that indeed there was a space for the person holding the cardboard sign whose shoes were worn right off his feet. It wouldn’t matter how he got here or why, it would only matter that he felt welcome and cared for. I would ask him to get in my car so I could bring him to Truckee’s Welcome Home shelter.
“Can I bring my dog?” I look at the thin, ragged dog wagging her tail and looking at me with her hopeful, amber eyes.
“Of course you can bring your dog!” I exclaim. The Welcome Home shelter has a yard and volunteers who care for pets. And I discover as I chat with him on the way to the Welcome Home shelter that he once was a lot like me. He has two children and he had a wife. But he lost his job and his home. Then he began to unravel and his wife left. He searched for work elsewhere but found none. He became ill and had no money for healthcare, so he drifted from place to place until depression and hopelessness were constant companions. Drinking is a problem but he'd like to quit since it’s making him sicker. He ended up here because he thought he might work at a ski resort but he realizes he looks so bad and with an illness like his, it’s pretty hard to function some days. As he tells his story, I see more and more of myself and I realize once again that none of us are separate and we must care for one another as we care for ourselves.
I have a dream that The Welcome Home shelter is donated by a family who was having a hard time paying for a second home now that the bottom has dropped out of the economy. They just figured it was the right thing to do for a town they’d been visiting for a long time and that it was time to give something back, to contribute to the well-being of those less fortunate. Or even more far-fetched, I have a dream that the Bank of America or Wells Fargo just donated a couple of houses in foreclosure because they felt it was time to stop being so greedy and opportunistic. The CEO’s just came to our Truckee Homeless Coalition meeting and said they felt it was their karma to donate the houses for a Welcome Home shelter. And then I woke up from my dream for a minute…What about “NIMBY?” Oh yes…that. Who would want a shelter in their neighborhood? Who wants the crowd of alcoholic, drug-addicted people who might be dangerous in their neighborhood? And then I think about how many people with severe alcoholism, violent behavior, drug addiction and mental health challenges already live in our (your) neighborhoods. The only difference is they have a place to live and it’s harder to see. The bars are full at night and when they close, the people who have had too much to drink get in their cars and try to drive home. How dangerous is that? Most homeless folks don’t have cars so at least they aren’t killing people or themselves by driving drunk. And sex offenders are everywhere too, some disguised as coaches and Boy Scout leaders and teachers or pastors that you trust. At least if an individuals are clearly unkempt and perhaps homeless rather than woven into our sanitized culture as coaches, pastors or Boy Scout leaders, they stand out and you can protect yourself and your children. It’s when they look like you that they’re dangerous and most sex offenders do look just like you.
In my dream, the Welcome Home Shelter (which is drug and alcohol free) has about six bedrooms, a playroom for kids (supervised), and a living room with a library and a television for movies. It has four bathrooms with tubs and showers, it has a huge kitchen for preparing community meals and a dining room where people eat together. It has an office where residents can meet with therapists or other community services workers, a computer for researching jobs or educational opportunities and it has lots of outdoor space for walking around and enjoying nature. Oh and a fenced yard for pets. And a garage for the van that brings people around to look for jobs or get to their healthcare providers. The van was donated by the people who make Hummers because those who consume the most should give back the most. I dream big, don’t I?
The Welcome Home Shelter would be funded by medical professionals and other individuals and grantors who want to participate in creating well-being accessible to all. It would be staffed by volunteers and a few paid staff from the community and by representatives from local agencies because everyone wants to be a part of this amazing gesture of love and compassion. Truckee wants to follow in Aspen and Vail’s footsteps in that way, wanting to be a model for other ski reports and small communities where poverty exists but is less obvious than in New York, Seattle or San Francisco. And residents of The Welcome Home Shelter would be expected to keep it clean, share the cooking and maintenance and to contribute to the community as well. We would have our artists to help them express their creative talent and musicians to come and sing and play because music is the voice of the soul.
The great thing is, since this home was donated by a family, we don’t have to worry about offending merchants. In my dream, the neighbors welcome having such a fine example of human generosity and kindness right in their midst. The house glows with love and warmth and the glow can be seen on dark nights from far away.
So does anyone want to donate a house?
Monday, March 14, 2011
Mother Earth re-arranges herself
" Not famine, not earthquakes, not cancer....but we are the great danger" (C.G. Jung, The Meaning of Psychology for Modern Man)
I am a compassionate person, however, when I read the headline about the earthquake in Japan and the tsunami that followed the other day, I was not horrified, surprised or sad. Does that mean I am not compassionate? I also consider myself a participant in the folly of being a modern human. I expect to pay for my behavior as a participant in a culture that clearly has an addictive relationship to consumption of natural resources. I make miniscule efforts to reduce my carbon footprint, but not to the extent that it would cause me discomfort. I still drive a car; I still use paper cups for my espresso drinks; I use non eco-friendly two-ply toilet paper because it works better, and I take for granted that the sun will come out every day. If it hides behind clouds and makes me chilly, I will turn a little dial on my wall and use up some natural gas to get warm again.
I think I have more compassion for Mother Earth than I have for myself and my human brethren. As I saw the photos of Japan, replete with horrible scenes of wreckage and distraught citizens, and felt acutely humbled but not sad, I wondered if I would feel differently if the earthquake had occurred in Oakland, California where my daughter and other family members live. I remember the earthquake in 1986 that collapsed one freeway on top of the other in Oakland and which caused immense damage to homes and buildings in the San Francsico area in addition to the loss of human life. I wasn't particularly sad or horrified because, well...it IS San Francisco and earthquakes will occur. It is not a question of if, it is a question of when.
Then I thought about the oil spill that destroyed coastlines and entire eco-systems north of San Francisco back in 1971 when two oil tankers collided spilling 800,000 gallons of heavy fuel oil into the ocean. I still cry when I see photos of humans wading into the toxic surf to rescue birds who strained for air and whose wings were unable to open to lift them from the oily goo. This assault to our environment was entirely preventable, yet the prevailing attitude continues to be cavalier. There have been many more oils spills since, all followed by lame justifications and minimization of the violence and destruction. We seem to fail in making the behavior-consequence connection in our desire for everything in our world to be easier, faster and cheaper in the short run.
Humans choose to build cities on fault lines and in flood zones; they choose to take their chances and densely populate areas where Mother Nature tends to become restless from time to time. What continues to surprise me is how humans behave as though it is some sort of horrible accident when an earthquake destroys a city or a wildfire burns its way through an expensive suburb or the ocean, whose power exceeds everything and anything a human can create, decides to heave itself onto the land and level a coastline. Gregg Levoy, in his book "Callings" writes: "Toni Morrison once described how the Mississippi River, had been straightened out in places to make room for houses and livable acreage, and how occasionally the river will flood these places. 'Flood is the word thay use' she said,'but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.'"
We are living organisms whose phsyical bodies mirror all systems in Nature, yet we seem to continue to think of ourselves as separate, as we build our homes and cities in flood plains or upon the earths fault lines and tornado zones. It seems we have a rather unrealistic expectation that the Earth somehow should accomodate our every whim and fancy despite how out of sync our actions are with nature's powerful rhythms and systems. Carl Jung wrote, "But our progressiveness, though it may result in a great many delighted wish-fulfillments, piles up an equally gigantic Promethean debt which has to be paid off from time to time in the form of hideous catastrophes" (C.G. Jung, CW 9.1, Par 276). For the most part, humans' orientation to nature has been one of conquest, not sympatico. We continue to insist Nature conform to our manufactured reality and behave as though we have been wronged when Nature acts as Nature does. The New York Times (Sunday, March 13th, 2011) had a front page article describing a tribal culture in the Phillipines which has managed to escape modernization and annihilation of its traditions and practices which are notable in their harmonious and reverent relationship with Nature. Such cultures have all but disappeared save for the Aboriginal cultures and others hidden deep in the forests out of the reach of land developers and other industries that have little regard or foresight in evaluating the costs and consequences of changing Nature's eco-systems.
Perhaps the massive earthquakes, floods, tsunamis, wild fires and other expressions of Nature are reminders of who is really in charge. And I am brought around again to the question of whether I would be devastated if I lost one of my children or a loved one as a result of nature's coughs, hiccups or out and out slaps across the face of humanity for its blatant arrogance. Yes, of course I would be devastated.I would be leveled and very humbled. But not surprised or indignant.
I am a compassionate person, however, when I read the headline about the earthquake in Japan and the tsunami that followed the other day, I was not horrified, surprised or sad. Does that mean I am not compassionate? I also consider myself a participant in the folly of being a modern human. I expect to pay for my behavior as a participant in a culture that clearly has an addictive relationship to consumption of natural resources. I make miniscule efforts to reduce my carbon footprint, but not to the extent that it would cause me discomfort. I still drive a car; I still use paper cups for my espresso drinks; I use non eco-friendly two-ply toilet paper because it works better, and I take for granted that the sun will come out every day. If it hides behind clouds and makes me chilly, I will turn a little dial on my wall and use up some natural gas to get warm again.
I think I have more compassion for Mother Earth than I have for myself and my human brethren. As I saw the photos of Japan, replete with horrible scenes of wreckage and distraught citizens, and felt acutely humbled but not sad, I wondered if I would feel differently if the earthquake had occurred in Oakland, California where my daughter and other family members live. I remember the earthquake in 1986 that collapsed one freeway on top of the other in Oakland and which caused immense damage to homes and buildings in the San Francsico area in addition to the loss of human life. I wasn't particularly sad or horrified because, well...it IS San Francisco and earthquakes will occur. It is not a question of if, it is a question of when.
Then I thought about the oil spill that destroyed coastlines and entire eco-systems north of San Francisco back in 1971 when two oil tankers collided spilling 800,000 gallons of heavy fuel oil into the ocean. I still cry when I see photos of humans wading into the toxic surf to rescue birds who strained for air and whose wings were unable to open to lift them from the oily goo. This assault to our environment was entirely preventable, yet the prevailing attitude continues to be cavalier. There have been many more oils spills since, all followed by lame justifications and minimization of the violence and destruction. We seem to fail in making the behavior-consequence connection in our desire for everything in our world to be easier, faster and cheaper in the short run.
Humans choose to build cities on fault lines and in flood zones; they choose to take their chances and densely populate areas where Mother Nature tends to become restless from time to time. What continues to surprise me is how humans behave as though it is some sort of horrible accident when an earthquake destroys a city or a wildfire burns its way through an expensive suburb or the ocean, whose power exceeds everything and anything a human can create, decides to heave itself onto the land and level a coastline. Gregg Levoy, in his book "Callings" writes: "Toni Morrison once described how the Mississippi River, had been straightened out in places to make room for houses and livable acreage, and how occasionally the river will flood these places. 'Flood is the word thay use' she said,'but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.'"
We are living organisms whose phsyical bodies mirror all systems in Nature, yet we seem to continue to think of ourselves as separate, as we build our homes and cities in flood plains or upon the earths fault lines and tornado zones. It seems we have a rather unrealistic expectation that the Earth somehow should accomodate our every whim and fancy despite how out of sync our actions are with nature's powerful rhythms and systems. Carl Jung wrote, "But our progressiveness, though it may result in a great many delighted wish-fulfillments, piles up an equally gigantic Promethean debt which has to be paid off from time to time in the form of hideous catastrophes" (C.G. Jung, CW 9.1, Par 276). For the most part, humans' orientation to nature has been one of conquest, not sympatico. We continue to insist Nature conform to our manufactured reality and behave as though we have been wronged when Nature acts as Nature does. The New York Times (Sunday, March 13th, 2011) had a front page article describing a tribal culture in the Phillipines which has managed to escape modernization and annihilation of its traditions and practices which are notable in their harmonious and reverent relationship with Nature. Such cultures have all but disappeared save for the Aboriginal cultures and others hidden deep in the forests out of the reach of land developers and other industries that have little regard or foresight in evaluating the costs and consequences of changing Nature's eco-systems.
Perhaps the massive earthquakes, floods, tsunamis, wild fires and other expressions of Nature are reminders of who is really in charge. And I am brought around again to the question of whether I would be devastated if I lost one of my children or a loved one as a result of nature's coughs, hiccups or out and out slaps across the face of humanity for its blatant arrogance. Yes, of course I would be devastated.I would be leveled and very humbled. But not surprised or indignant.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Powerful Voice of Silence
Unconscious Speaking
In our culture, we are battered with words often spoken half-consciously or unconsciously. Words fly out of our mouths at warp speed, pressured, unintelligible, mulched in with colloquialisms and delivered without thought as to their intended meaning. Our vernacular uses superlatives to shape beliefs we act then act out: “Hurry! Sale ends soon!” “Buy now! Don’t miss out!” Our behavior is in large part, an outcome of the way in which we use language.
“How are you?” with the reply, “I’m fine” is a common exchange. How often have we wondered why we ask unless there is time and desire to hear a genuine response? What gesture can we offer instead? Perhaps eye contact, a smile and saying, It’s good to see you.”
“Love you,” a wife says to her husband on the phone, a pregnant comma following. She waits for him to return the sentiment. “Me too,” he says. Satisfied, she disconnects clicking the “end” button on her phone. She said it to assure herself that some remnant of love still remained. He replied in a constricted way; love was missing and besides, there was work to be done. He would not or could not get into the landscape of his actual state of mind and emotion, not with her. She was his wife, he didn’t want to hurt her. The marriage crucible cannot become capable of holding truth unless its occupants intentionally subject it to alchemical fire to burnish it into high resonance. Suppose he had obeyed the urge to remain silent and say nothing? In the silence, she would have been given back her own words, an invitation to become conscious. And the crucible would begin to sing with fire.
Silence- the gentle teacher
A couple argues the same argument, each sentence beginning with the word, “why,” which usually invites a defensive response. The circularity and escalation of the argument has no purpose, its words running in a haphazard herd, raising egoic dust and blinding its warriors to any possibility of resolution. If only someone would lower their eyes, come to their knees and offer gentle silence. The body posture is surrender, the silence is the invitation. Silence invites one to return to the heart, to make an affective turn inward to mindfulness. Thich Nat Hanh writes, “Just embracing your anger, breathing in and breathing out, that is good enough…” The breath offers medicine to the paralyzed heart, freeing it from the bondage of misperception and destructive thoughts.
Too Many Words
In the turbulence of words, meaning and intent loses its place. The desire to listen and investigate assumptions is usurped by the need to be right. Reversing this pattern requires us to slow down our speech, carefully considering what we want to say and being economical in our use of words. Too many words turn the potential for poetic expression into noise. Allowing silence to fill the spaces between sentences opens the way for reflection and creative response. Taking the time to be curious, to check out assumptions and to choose words with care reduces the potential for reactivity and circular arguments.
The Palate of Words
An artist stands before her canvas and considers her choices colors for a painting of a landscape or perhaps of a beloved pet playing by the sea. Nature’s own palate provides a template for the artist to follow and she mixes according to the sounds she hears and the multiple voices of green speaking through the trees and grasses. She backs away just breathing and looking at the canvas before her. Does it speak what is in her imagination? Does the work of expression sing in harmony with Nature’s perfect voice?
Words are often spoken without consideration as to whether they fit what the heart longs to express. Too often, the voice of fear with its many disguises and costumes steps onto center stage and silences the tender voice of the psyche (the soul) and the heart. Jealousy masquerades as loving intention, explaining insists that it only wants understanding when all it really wants is to be right and to defend its position, anger says it speaks “for their own good” or in righteous indignation at some offense. All of these are the faces of fear. And when fear steps onto center stage, love exits and waits in the wings for the two cannot co-exist.
Choosing our Words
Choosing words with care and with an undefended heart requires an affective turn inward. As the artist’s eyes and ears attune to how she may best offer honor and sincerity of expression in her work, so must we be mindful of how we use words.
The Way of Council, a book written by Jack Zimmerman and Virginia Coyle describe the four intentions of holding council in the Native American Tradition. Those four intentions are: speaking from the heart, listening from the heart, being spontaneous and being lean of speech. Speaking from the heart requires being able to distinguish what is truly of the heart from the many voices of fear. Speaking from the heart is always an expression of love. Listening with or from the heart means one listens with the whole body rather than allowing the ego to dominate, to think up a response or defense or explanation while the other is speaking. Spontaneity in speaking means trusting that what the heart wants to express is perfect even when it may seem unrelated to what has been spoken by the other. And perhaps most important is being lean of speech. As the artist takes her brushes and mixes as her senses inform her way of expression, she is careful and quiet before she considers which colors fit. Often, she must walk away and allow silence to incubate what is in her imagination for a time before she returns to her canvas. It is well that we do the same when using words to express ourselves. The fewer words and the more quietly they are spoken, the more clear and powerful the message.
In our culture, we are battered with words often spoken half-consciously or unconsciously. Words fly out of our mouths at warp speed, pressured, unintelligible, mulched in with colloquialisms and delivered without thought as to their intended meaning. Our vernacular uses superlatives to shape beliefs we act then act out: “Hurry! Sale ends soon!” “Buy now! Don’t miss out!” Our behavior is in large part, an outcome of the way in which we use language.
“How are you?” with the reply, “I’m fine” is a common exchange. How often have we wondered why we ask unless there is time and desire to hear a genuine response? What gesture can we offer instead? Perhaps eye contact, a smile and saying, It’s good to see you.”
“Love you,” a wife says to her husband on the phone, a pregnant comma following. She waits for him to return the sentiment. “Me too,” he says. Satisfied, she disconnects clicking the “end” button on her phone. She said it to assure herself that some remnant of love still remained. He replied in a constricted way; love was missing and besides, there was work to be done. He would not or could not get into the landscape of his actual state of mind and emotion, not with her. She was his wife, he didn’t want to hurt her. The marriage crucible cannot become capable of holding truth unless its occupants intentionally subject it to alchemical fire to burnish it into high resonance. Suppose he had obeyed the urge to remain silent and say nothing? In the silence, she would have been given back her own words, an invitation to become conscious. And the crucible would begin to sing with fire.
Silence- the gentle teacher
A couple argues the same argument, each sentence beginning with the word, “why,” which usually invites a defensive response. The circularity and escalation of the argument has no purpose, its words running in a haphazard herd, raising egoic dust and blinding its warriors to any possibility of resolution. If only someone would lower their eyes, come to their knees and offer gentle silence. The body posture is surrender, the silence is the invitation. Silence invites one to return to the heart, to make an affective turn inward to mindfulness. Thich Nat Hanh writes, “Just embracing your anger, breathing in and breathing out, that is good enough…” The breath offers medicine to the paralyzed heart, freeing it from the bondage of misperception and destructive thoughts.
Too Many Words
In the turbulence of words, meaning and intent loses its place. The desire to listen and investigate assumptions is usurped by the need to be right. Reversing this pattern requires us to slow down our speech, carefully considering what we want to say and being economical in our use of words. Too many words turn the potential for poetic expression into noise. Allowing silence to fill the spaces between sentences opens the way for reflection and creative response. Taking the time to be curious, to check out assumptions and to choose words with care reduces the potential for reactivity and circular arguments.
The Palate of Words
An artist stands before her canvas and considers her choices colors for a painting of a landscape or perhaps of a beloved pet playing by the sea. Nature’s own palate provides a template for the artist to follow and she mixes according to the sounds she hears and the multiple voices of green speaking through the trees and grasses. She backs away just breathing and looking at the canvas before her. Does it speak what is in her imagination? Does the work of expression sing in harmony with Nature’s perfect voice?
Words are often spoken without consideration as to whether they fit what the heart longs to express. Too often, the voice of fear with its many disguises and costumes steps onto center stage and silences the tender voice of the psyche (the soul) and the heart. Jealousy masquerades as loving intention, explaining insists that it only wants understanding when all it really wants is to be right and to defend its position, anger says it speaks “for their own good” or in righteous indignation at some offense. All of these are the faces of fear. And when fear steps onto center stage, love exits and waits in the wings for the two cannot co-exist.
Choosing our Words
Choosing words with care and with an undefended heart requires an affective turn inward. As the artist’s eyes and ears attune to how she may best offer honor and sincerity of expression in her work, so must we be mindful of how we use words.
The Way of Council, a book written by Jack Zimmerman and Virginia Coyle describe the four intentions of holding council in the Native American Tradition. Those four intentions are: speaking from the heart, listening from the heart, being spontaneous and being lean of speech. Speaking from the heart requires being able to distinguish what is truly of the heart from the many voices of fear. Speaking from the heart is always an expression of love. Listening with or from the heart means one listens with the whole body rather than allowing the ego to dominate, to think up a response or defense or explanation while the other is speaking. Spontaneity in speaking means trusting that what the heart wants to express is perfect even when it may seem unrelated to what has been spoken by the other. And perhaps most important is being lean of speech. As the artist takes her brushes and mixes as her senses inform her way of expression, she is careful and quiet before she considers which colors fit. Often, she must walk away and allow silence to incubate what is in her imagination for a time before she returns to her canvas. It is well that we do the same when using words to express ourselves. The fewer words and the more quietly they are spoken, the more clear and powerful the message.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)