Have You Given Hope Today?

I've been very interested lately in the concept of effort vs return, from many different aspects.

Last night I was thinking again how deer and turkeys and other wildlife will sometimes sit and starve / freeze to death within sight of food because they are too exhausted to fight through the snow to get to it. Of course back when I first learned that, it was via "scientific" articles that would not dream of suggesting a psycho-emotional factor. But I am quite sure I know exactly how those deer and turkeys feel.

Recently I've been pondering a new angle on the basic premise - job hunting. With the internet making every upper level job search national and even international, and the economy being what it is, the chances of getting any particular job is now about the same as winning Powerball. (Okay, tiny exaggeration but not much.) Back in late summer I applied for a Farm & Food Policy Analyst position with Cornucopia Institute for which I am well qualified. They were supposed to make a decision in September I believe. I just got a letter about a week ago. They had over 500 applicants, including PhDs and MDs. The job went to a PhD. Frankly I was impressed that they sent the letter and even offered a free membership... most employers don't even bother to send anything any more.

So, yes, the amount of time & energy expended on job hunting and sending resumes is no longer worth the return - or lack thereof.

I suppose "hopelessness" is maybe another word for it.

I'm concerned about someone I know, back in New England, because she is about at that point of hopelessness - feeling like almost any energy expended to help herself will provide too little return to be worth it. Sucks. She is surrounded by an entire community, town, full of people and still in this predicament. Starving within sight of food because she is too exhausted to struggle through the snow to get it. WTF is wrong with our culture?

Oh, a few people have offered to help her, in the sense of temporary shelter or a little financial assistance. But they are few, and while those offers are priceless lifelines and those people are to be cherished, still, it does not solve the root of the problem. That is the job of a community and communities everywhere are failing miserably at it.

She told me today that it is not my responsibility to worry about or help her. I told her it's EVERYONE'S responsibility to worry about and help other living beings on the planet -- help each other. That's all that matters in the end. Why else are we here?

Asters

The asters and goldenrod are blooming. They are beautiful, but for me a poignant sign of summer's end. As I biked past them today I was thinking and remembering how back in a former life, I used to pick them. I don't do that now – there is not much point in picking flowers when you don't have a house to bring them back to. But even before I became a nomad I had reached the point of preferring to leave things where there were – to love them right here and now and not have a need to capture them. This goes hand in hand with my no longer having a need to identify or label things.

There is a great freedom and beauty in leaving things as and where they are... in shedding that need to capture and possess. It lightens and lifts the soul. It keeps one flowing smoothly in the present. It frees one from the need to try and capture time as well as things – trying to capture a moment in time and take it with you into the future. You can't anyway. Leave it where it is. Don't miss it while trying to capture it. This is the part of photography I don't like. How many times have I missed an experience because I was trying to capture it on film. No more.

This is also an aspect of Facebook I don't like. The most depressing thing about Facebook for me is not so much seeing what people are doing right now, but being able to scroll back and see what they (and myself) were doing in the past. It's the past frozen and captured and trying to still be a part of the present. It reminds me of my friend's comment about strongly preferring live music because recorded music is “canned” and dead. And it reminds me of my conversation with someone else about how text messages are not the same when you try to save them by typing them into a computer file – they are not the actual real messages, which were alive and glowing on the screen. They are dead copies. Those moments on Facebook are also canned and dead – like looking at dead bodies.

One needs to learn to feel the life that is in all things before one can realize when they are dead.

It's an insight into how energy flows in the universe. It flows, through moments and things, and then it moves on. The way it flows through time is just as important – or perhaps even more significant – as the way it flows through things.

Human life must work the same way. Our energy is concentrated here for a time and then it moves on – and probably disperses and rearranges. I strongly feel someone's presence and energy when they are in an area (such as a town) but when they move on, their energy goes and the place feels empty. This is probably why I have always felt such loss, and often a sense of abandonment, when someone I know moves away. Even the energy of a time... such as planning an event, or having a party... after it's over, that energy is gone. There is still energy there but it's not the same, it is of an entirely different sort and source. This is why you can't go back, at least not if you're expecting it to be the same. Even if you go to the same place, it is not really the same, and the energy is definitely not the same. The things may be there but there is different energy moving through them.

Moments pass. Some pass more quickly than others – though really they are all passing instantaneously. When you can let go and move and flow with the energy around you, you are free. And knowing how to synchronize your physical, mental and emotional being with that energy flow – knowing when to stay, when to move on – is key to well-being. If you wait too long to leave a pleasant spot or moment it can become depressing. Sometimes it's best to leave the lake or the mountaintop while the sun is still shining, while there is still light. But sometimes it's best to stay and watch the beautiful light fade to beautiful darkness. Knowing the difference is key to happiness. Tune in to your emotions and know whether staying or going will make you happy or sad.

Why is this my most important blogpost?
Because if everyone could synchronize with the energy flow and find supreme happiness in the present, how would that change the need to capture and possess things?
And if everyone could appreciate and leave things as they are and where they are, how would the world be different?

All this pithy insight – generated by some asters! And what did I do? - I promptly went back and photographed them! But I did it to illustrate my point, not to try to capture them. Aster means “star” so maybe it is no surprise that these wise and ancient flowers had some cosmic messages to offer.

Snowflakes

Facebook post from PS:

Si lleva cadenas y candados...realmente es amor?

If you wear chains and padlocks... really is it love?

AV: tal vez ésa es sólo la parte fetichista Translation: Maybe that's just the fetish part ;)

Starthrower But there is some powerful binding force of love?

AAS: No. Amor es libre, sano, sin ataduras Translation: No. Love is free, healthy, no strings attached

Starthrower: AV but what is it that holds two people together who love each other?

AV: I think that when you really enjoy somebody, you end up with no free time for anyone else.

PS: If it ain't free, it ain't love.

AV: Tell that to the earth's rotating axis.

PS: I did, she told me we're cool and we're all going to fall off some day anyway...so enjoy the ride.

Starthrower: AV Process of elimination? : /

AV: no one gets eliminated, they just go somewhere else

Starthrower: Maybe I meant process of default... or of preference. Maybe the binding force is simply that this is one's favorite person to be together with? "Me, I'm the one you chose, out of all the people, you wanted me the most..."

Starthrower ...but somehow I still think there's more to it!

*****

...and now I am thinking how love is something undefinable, unique each time. And that so many spiritual gurus have expounded upon the concept of pure, free love with no strings attached – and that in reality, humans seldom experience love in this way. I'm not even sure that they should.

But we hear these definitions and spend our lives feeling deficient at and in love – just as our culture and religions make us feel deficient at every other aspect of being human. We end up trying to apply pure spiritual “free” love to basic earthy human relationships, because we're convinced we need to achieve pure love but we still don't want to sacrifice the human experience.

Better to acknowledge that we experience emotion. The emotion that we experience surrounding our relationships with others can be very powerful, intense and sometimes confusing. It can also sometimes be painful but pain is simply another emotion. We are always free to choose to either experience it as such, or to move on, or to avoid it altogether.

Those philosophical gurus may sound great but almost all of them lived their lives alone – or at least without an obvious enduring partner. Not something that most humans aspire to. Not something that humans seem designed for... though admittedly humans don't seem designed for permanent or even long-term monogamous relationships either. But being human is a playground for exploring all the different nuances of love. Have at it.

Building Resilient Kid-Systems

There's much discussion on how to teach our children the skills they will need for the future, and how to pass on our skills to them. Everyone is aware that this is not happening any more the way it used to in the recent past. And so we end up with elaborate structured programs: summer camps, nature programs, teen centers, etc. These artificial structures awkwardly attempt to duplicate the effortless organic learning that kids used to do so naturally.

What has changed? What keeps kids from getting out in, and engaging with, their surrounding world, and assimilating all that knowledge? Computers, computer games, internet, and other similar technology generally get blamed, but that's an easy excuse. It's like blaming the fast food industry for America's weight and health problems.

I'm a human ecologist by definition - at least that's technically what my degree is in. And my human ecology instincts whisper that there are two major factors that open the doors for kids to engage with their world. One is physical space. The other is, simply, other kids. Provide these two elements in the correct magic configuration and you can then pretty much sit back and let everything else unfold.

Here's what you need for the other kids part: One, a minimum number; I'm not sure what that is exactly, but I suspect it's somewhere around a dozen at least and more is better. Two, close proximity to one another - ideally within a few doors, but certainly within easy walking distance. And three, you need kids of various ages. Kids tend to interact with, and learn much more from, older kids, especially siblings, than from parents.

Here's what you need for the physical space part: a widely diverse and safe habitat. Just like the biologists always say when speaking of healthy ecosystems. Kids need houses, decks, barns, garages, sheds, tree forts; they need yards, gardens, hedgerows, woodpiles, neighborhoods, sidewalks and streets; they need woods, fields and bodies of water. They need small towns with small stores, libraries, movie theaters, railroad tracks and ice cream stands. They even need abandoned buildings and lots.

Put a bunch of kids into a diverse habitat and watch the chain reaction. The kids know what to do. All they need are the basic resources - much more basic than we seem to think. Then, they can walk, run, ride bikes, swim, skate, play games and get creative.

I can't help thinking that all the countless dollars that communities invest in structured programs for kids - the nature programs, camps, teen centers, etc. - would be so much better used for the longer term investment of transforming their physical space; for diversifying their habitat; making it safe; and for creating the sort of housing that fosters neighborhoods with lots of kids. Our problem is one of isolation and of physical space "monoculture."

Here's some of the things we taught ourselves as kids.

Political, social, administrative and organizational skills: secret clubs, which of course had to have secret club notebooks, passwords, languages, codes, badges, mottos, rituals, officers, and admissions tests and ceremonies. We designed and made all these things ourselves. The clubs ran more smoothly than our town governments do and were much more fun.

Electronics: we built our own "radios" and other communications devices from painted blocks of wood and various components from our dads' workbenches. When my electronically-obsessed brother got older, he built a Star Trek communicator that looked and sounded exactly like the real thing and actually worked. Well, he couldn't talk to alien life forms or get beamed up, but he could communicate with other nearby humanoids with radios or CBs. He also built a radio station in the basement with a broadcast radius of about a block, which would play requests when we wrote them on paper airplanes and flew them down the basement stairs.

Engineering design & construction: golf ball and marble rolling trails on hillsides, with bridges, tunnels and jumps. Forts - on the ground, under the ground, and above the ground in trees - one of my fondest memories is the warren we created in the neighbor's enormous brush pile which included entire trees. Bicycle trails and jumps. Toy boats, airplanes, helicopters, parachutes, and kites. Building bricks and tinker toys and erector sets. Bird feeders, bird houses, pet shelters. Twig houses and villages. Rafts, bridges and dams. We knew the properties of stone, water, snow, ice, soil, wood and plant materials - and sometimes fire. I didn't even realize I knew these things until a few years ago when I tried working with a friend who didn't.

Wilderness survival skills: shelters, stalking, making weapons, foraging - and fire. For a time it was all the rage to snitch the big glass lenses off the local railroad semaphores. About ten or twelve inches in diameter, flat on one side and convex on the other, and two or three inches thick in the center, they could focus sunlight to a pinpoint of glare that would start a fire in literally about three seconds flat. Do not try this at home. Oakland had nothing on us. The neighborhood nearly burned down several times every summer until kids figured out how to control the fire... or maybe the fad died out.

Truly, it's amazing we didn't kill ourselves. I pale now to think of some of the things we did; skating on the brook right to the edge of the gaps in the ice comes to mind. But we never seemed to really get hurt. The worst injury was probably Carrie Sarchesian who fell off her bike while riding no hands and got a mild concussion.

Parents, on the other hand, were always getting wounded in the most embarrassing ways. Mr. Brunelle fell through his swimming pool deck and broke his leg, and my Dad borrowed my bike one day, forgetting that these newfangled bicycles had hand brakes instead of foot brakes. He went all the way down the hill without remembering this, at rapidly increasing velocity, wildly and ineffectually pedaling backwards, and flipped over the curb at the bottom in what must have been a spectacular display of aerial action adventure, if anyone had been there to see. He survived; my bicycle did not.

Kids today will never exactly duplicate most of the things kids did thirty years ago - nor should they. Intimate relations with computer and internet are a part of today's kids' lives and an important skill for their future. They are not the only skills, but we will find that the kids know this if we give them half a chance. Today's children will interface with the world, their world, in ways we can only imagine - and in ways we can't imagine. They will fuse past and present and future in new and unexpected configurations. All we need do is turn them loose together in a diverse habitat.

Where There's Smoke ~

Mornings in Nicaragua: the acrid smell of smoke from cooking fires filling the air and burning the nose and throat. Some of it is wood smoke, but mostly it's something a lot less pleasant, reminiscent of burning tires. I don't know what these people are burning to cook with but it's not anything I'm happy about breathing. They probably aren't happy about it either but most probably have no choice. To eat they need to cook; to cook they need fuel; and fuel is expensive for poorer families which is the bulk of the population. Firewood is not always easy or affordable to obtain. And the forest are disappearing.

This is not a new story. We have witnessed it again and again around the world. The reasons why it can't be curbed are ones I do not yet fully know or understand. Three billion people – nearly half the world's population – still cook over open fires that spew very significant quantities of CO2 into our global atmosphere. It's only recently that there has been a dawning awareness and growing alarm of how much this is contributing to climate change. Suddenly there's a lot more interest in figuring out how to come up with and implement alternate cooking methods. And it's no surprise, at all, that already corporations are sniffing around that door, sensing the possibility of profit.

There are a lot of cooking stove projects out there, and many are focused on manufacturing and selling or supplying the stoves to people. A lesser number are helping the people who need the stoves to establish their own manufacturing businesses in their own cities and villages. Global Alliance for Clean Cookstoves was founded? by Hilary Clinton and is endorsed by Julia Roberts, and has endless text on their website about meetings, conferences, establishing standards, policies, and on and on. It's mind-numbing to think of the amount of time and “energy” they are spending doing these sorts of things.

This winter I connected with a guy – a refugee – from Ethiopia, where the open fire and deforestation situation is grave. He spends virtually no time whatsoever on these sorts of things. He has started a sustainable “clean” cooking stove program, Green Energy Without Borders, as a way of helping the people in his homeland, taking the route of assisting them to establish their own manufacturing programs there. In just four years, his program has built and distributed about 120,000 stoves made from recycled, readily available materials. The stoves use compressed briquettes made from agricultural organic waste such as sugar cane stalks and corn stalks, which is converted to charcoal, mixed with a small amount of clay, and formed into specially designed briquettes that burn slow and clean. They also scavenge the fine bits of charcoal from the ground in marketplaces where charcoal made from wood has been piled for decades. Some of these “deposits” have built up for years and are quite deep.

The system is not perfect; the process of making the charcoal does create CO2. But it prevents deforestation, and it eliminates smoke during cooking. The fine particles in this smoke are the cause of millions of deaths annually, worldwide, from related health problems. I asked about carbon monoxide emissions from the stoves and he was not able to answer that; he has not had his stoves tested for that. But apparently no one has died over the past few years, so presumably this is not a significant issue. In a pinch the stoves can burn any combustible materials, and indeed people sometimes break the briquettes in half or quarters and mix them with cattle dung or other solid fuel to extend them – this does create smoke but not as much as a regular open fire. The program is supporting a local economy and fosters innovation, but it also gives away many, many stoves to those who are most in need and cannot afford to purchase one. And it is self-sustaining, without the support of large organizations filled with red tape. It's homegrown. And his stoves are the number one preferred stoves in the Adama region where they are being made.

One of the projects I will be working on in Nicaragua involves the introduction of heat boxes to help extend cooking time. The traditional diet here includes a lot of rice and beans, and the beans especially take a long time to cook, even when soaked first. Activist and musician Paul Baker Hernandez wants to start a program that will encourage and assist people in designing and building insulated heat boxes from simple materials such as cardboard, that will keep a pot of beans hot long enough to finish cooking them after a short amount of boiling, and reduce the amount of fuel needed and smoke emitted.

There are some cooking stove projects in action in Nicaragua, though Paul says he has not heard of any that are using agricultural waste to make briquettes for fuel. Perhaps one day soon Green Energy stoves can be introduced here.

Happy Solstice! from Babylon

The game of Pictionary should be taught in all schools worldwide. It would greatly improve human communications. Far too many people have inadequate skills for non-verbal communication, and non-language communication... as when two people speak different languages.

I have found that the majority of people I've encountered in Central America are excellent at non-language communication or little-language communication. They seem to enjoy it as much as I do, have the same good-natured sense of humor about it, and derive the same sense of satisfaction when success is achieved. They are creative about their approach which is usually key. Attitude seems significant for success. I also found, unsurprisingly, that the people in the tourist areas are better at it and tend to be more cheerful about it.

However, I have also encountered some impatience and annoyance, perhaps born of lack of creativity or humor with the process. I've had more than one person repeat the same few words over and over, with increasingly exaggerated slowness and increasing volume, as if they were sure my problem was stupidity or deafness or both – even when they knew perfectly well that the real problem was simply that I did not speak Spanish. Rather than try to find a creative way to express their message – gestures, writing, metaphor – and rising to the challenge, they simply got frustrated.

Of course, I am well aware that these folks probably deal all the time with tourists like me and that learning at least a few words and phrases of the native language is basic courtesy when visiting – one that I neglected due to time and craziness but that's no excuse. I'm not saying I expect these folks to speak English or to be under any obligation to deal with someone who doesn't speak it. But nor do I adopt the attitude that they should be. This is simply observation.

Also, there is not a direct correlation between my experience and the Pictionary theory. The former just made me think a bit and spawned the idea about the latter.

For those of you unfamiliar with Pictionary, it is a group / team game involving cards printed with words or short phrases that must be conveyed, within a short time limit, to the other players via drawing only – no words or sign language or gestures (though some gestures inevitably happen in the excitement and heat of the game).

Pictionary offers a fascinating insight into how player's brains work. Which aspect of the picture the drawer chooses to tackle first; whether they choose to draw the actual object or action, or phoenetic alternates, or symbolic representations (no actual symbols allowed except a few select ones such as =m or -); and what sort of associations their minds make. For example, a player might choose to convey the phrase “solar power” by drawing a sun, and an arm with flexed bicep. Or, they might draw a sun and a flower, hoping that when people run the phrase “sun flower” through their brain and realize that it's not “sunflower,” they might make the connection – this option might be helped along by drawing an ear next to the flower indicating that it's a word that sounds like flower, or by adding a picture of a shower nozzle with water spraying out. Or, they might draw a solar panel, perhaps aided with an electrical plug or outlet. Or...

After the others guess correctly, or the time is up and the answer is revealed, there is typically a moment of sharing thought processes from both sides: "I was trying to get this across," or," I kept thinking you were trying to draw a..."

It's also amazing how rapidly the other players can correctly guess what the drawer is attempting, much of the time. This often takes on a nearly psychic quality and possibly indicates a similarity of thought process (“that's exactly what I would have drawn”). Interestingly, looking back over Pictionary sheets from months back it's often much harder to guess what the drawings represent. Without the “live” element something is lost in translation... so to speak.

The game provides positive reinforcement for both effective graphic representation and good interpretation skills, so the more someone plays, the better they tend to get. It's easy to imagine that someone who has played a lot of Pictionary would exhibit significant improvement at non-language communication in general – supported not only by practice, but by lessened intimidation and a greater enjoyment of the process as well.

As I said, my experience was merely the catalyst for the theory.

Comments?

Hello In There, Hello

One thing I had not done on this journey of descent was to stand on the street corner with a cardboard sign. Or any sort of panhandling actually. It seemed the experience would not be complete without that. I've talked with many homeless and nomadic people who have done it and I wanted to know what it felt like.

The first attempt was an epic fail. I was clueless, it was getting dark, no traffic at all, poor location. The humbling and humiliating realization that there's more to this than you'd think. It's actually a somewhat skilled job... and a fine art. Does one sit, stand? Wave the sign around a bit or keep still? Smile at people? Look sad and desperate?

Next morning I walked past the patch of stinging nettles on the way down to the beach and said "ah ha." I picked about 8 bags (and did a lot of impromptu foraging education for curious folks walking by). My second panhandling attempt was during the evening rush at the entrance to a supermarket and I added a second sign to my starving writer one: "In return I offer Fresh Nettles!" Can't say I was swamped but several people walked over after parking their cars, chatted for a bit, gave me a donation - and only one woman was interested in nettles so I gave her two. I got $16 plus change and lots of good conversation. Folks were interested in what I was doing and why -- in hearing my story and telling theirs. Some had been homeless in the past and knew what it was like to sit on a street corner with a sign.

Earlier that day in a parking lot, a guy noticed my VT plates and I talked with him for an hour. He had also lived in his car for some time, years ago, and had even stood on street corners with signs. He said he didn't like the way people looked at him when he did that (he's black). And later, I spoke with a homeless man (also black) here in town who invited me to join him someday at The Ramp – which is apparently The Place to panhandle – meaning the off ramp from the freeway. I haven't yet taken him up on his offer but want to at some point. He hadn't yet counted the money he had collected that day but it looked like he had at least $70 from about four hours of working The Ramp. Well gee.

As to the experience... yes, it felt weird. Yes somewhat humiliating, especially initially (a bit better with nettles to offer). People driving by had no idea of my story, who I was, why I was doing this. It was great when folks came over to chat and could hear all that. And this is exactly why I wanted to experience this – so I could feel those emotions, and so I can truly, from the heart, write it all into a story and / or article and tell everyone: next time you see a homeless person, or a person on a corner with a cardboard sign, or whomever, anyone at all -- remember this:  there IS a real person in there, with a human brain and human feelings and a human story. And that you don't know at all what that story might be.

Starbucks has lately been playing the John Prine song "Hello In There" which is about old people, but really could just as well be about homeless people – or any people.

"So if you're walking down the street sometime

And spot some hollow ancient eyes,

Please don't just pass 'em by and stare

As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello."

One other thing I have reminded people about -- to stop and remember that so many of our great artists, recording artists, movie stars, all the creative types, were at one time or another homeless nomads, sleeping in cars, washing their hair in gas station bathroom sinks, etc. How would you feel if you knew you'd run Bob Dylan or Jewel or JK Rowling out of town thinking they were "just a vagrant?" When I say this everyone pauses. "I never thought about that," they say. Well, neither did I, really, til I made this journey.

Hello.

*****
Postscript: my good friend Mark who leads spiritual workshops said that he thought this would be a great assignment for his students sometime! I agree. A great exercise for anyone.

Cosmic Feathers: Why Did the Rooster Cross the Street?

Last night at the beach park was a random rooster.

He was following a woman who was jogging up and down the stairs. Charmed, she took several photos. Imagine her surprise when later, after dark, she returned to her car – at the top of the hill and outside the park – and found a bundle of feathers roosting on the roof... which astutely let out with an attention-getting cluck before she got in and drove away. A small group of us stood around marveling and pondering the situation. Being the only one of the group who had actually had chickens, I rapidly became the go-to for many questions.

Ultimately, the universe won out. The woman climbed up on the running board of her mini van, and after several cautious attempts, got a wing-securing grip on the amazingly calm bird, lowered it off the roof and tucked it in the back seat of her vehicle to drive home with her.

None of us, least of all her, could fathom why she had materialized this rooster into her life... or why he had materialized her into his... or most likely both. But it was clear to us all that they are meant to be together.

“Yeah here come the rooster, yeah
You know he ain't gonna die
No, no, no ya know he ain't gonna die...”