The second ever post I made on this blog was about being lost. Now it is time to write another one, and in fact this may become the theme of more of my writing, because for a while now it has been a theme in my life.
I don't like the word 'lost' per se. Someone described me with the word random in June, and that captures something poignant. I have inherited this quality from my dad (who is essentially a stranger to me). For the short time I was forced to be in his life, I saw him go through numerous hobbies: golfing, fishing, sailboating, gardening, building a boat...and drop projects before he finished them, or quit exploring a skill long before he mastered it. This quality always annoyed me, in part because I want to trust that when someone says they are going to do something, they will. I like consistency.
This is all the more reason that I annoy myself for my own lack of follow through. When I did Girl Scouts for a few years, they had a book of badges. At the beginning of each category was a badge called a Dabbler. This was a way to gently explore the subject matter, and then later badges would go more in depth with subcategories. So there would be a nature dabbler, an art dabbler, etc. These interested me more than anything else in the whole book. I wanted to explore everything, to be the master of all subjects. I still do.
This translates into all aspects of my life. What ends up happening is I skim the surface of everything, and wind up with all this information from a variety of disciplines, academic and spiritual and...whatever else you can think of. I'm not an expert at any one field, but I see the connections in the world. In college, I studied religions, psychology, sustainability, and art. In my spiritual explorations, I've played with most of the well-known Eastern philosophies, New Age beliefs, and am mostly settled in a Reclaiming-style Paganism with a side of Quakerism. This all after leaving the more mainstream Christianity I was born into.
Sometimes I have encountered judgements, from within and without, that I am undisciplined, weak-willed, never getting good at anything, unable to commit. I've never stayed with a spiritual practice such as meditation, yoga, art therapy, or nature connections for more than a few consecutive months. I change. I lose interest and focus in the material. It stops being meaningful to me. Which makes absolute, total sense, because life is always changing and is an ever-unfolding process. But when I was dating a committed Buddhist meditator, I heard his voice echoing the thousands of books and articles I'd read, telling me I would never reach enlightenment this way. I'm ruled by my wild senses, unable to control them--the Hindu form of sin.
And rebelling against that line of thinking with Pagan justifications of being a free animal in harmony with Earth isn't totally satisfying either. There is something about being human that can be seriously enhanced by cultivated presence. Ultimately this presence is handy in life's daily activities, as Thich Nhat Hahn writes about. It is easier to practice, like all things, in a contained environment.
On the other hand, when it comes to transcending duality and being one with the cosmos, Bill Plotkin says in one of my all-time favorite books (Nature and the Human Soul) that those are naturally emerging qualities gained in elderhood, after living a full life of going through all the stages of being a maturing human. Most of those stages involve participation with life, rather than renunciation. The one other stage that comes closest to this, because it is a time of turning inward, is known as the Cocoon.
The characteristics of the Cocoon describe my life starting in my mid-teens, and increasing as time went on. Because those characteristics have been a part of my life for so long, I am impatent to move on with life. The way Plotkin writes, he makes it sound like the survival of Earth is dependent on humans progressing through the stages of development, instead of stalling out at adolescence, as most of Western culture has done. The difference between the Cocoon and the next stage, the Wellspring, is that the first is about focusing on yourself and you own psychic depths, whlie the Wellspring is about giving your gifts to your community.
I thought I had progressed to the Wellspring as of a year ago. I thought I knew what I wanted to do to serve my community and make the most of this life. I had a vision, and I made some efforts to follow through with it. But that vision has since petered out, and at this moment, I again feel directionless.
So I ask myself, Do I need to turn inward again? Is it possible that I am more of a be-er than a do-er, that my purpose is filled by my existence, without taking on grandose projects? Is it OK to have moments of feeling unmotivated, even if they last days, and that doesn't mean I'm completely off-track? Does my random-ness have a pattern I cannot see for being so close to it? Does yours, other lost souls?
Over the summer, a friend was telling me about how she doesn't know which of her visions to follow--becoming a traveling artist, have a professional studio, start some sort of center or non-profit--and I passionately told her that although those are all beautiful ideas and I'm sure they would be great additions to the world, that her value as a person is not defined by what she produces. That is the big fat lie capitalism has told us. Our value is defined by who we are. This advice is much harder to believe for myself than it was when telling it to someone else.
It is such a blessing to have the spaciousness to contemplate these big life questions. I am incredibly privileged to live in a place where there is so much abundance that I can live simply off the excess and mostly not worry about basic survival. These circumstances are what allow me to be so tormented, and yet so blessed.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Purring Prrroudly
I recently referenced something called the cat tribe in another blog, which a confused commenter asked me about. I had hoped that readers would be able to pick it up from context, but I can see how to non-cat tribe folks it would make no sense, and I'd like to clarify so I can keep referencing it in my writing.
So what is cat tribe? When I used that phrase in my other blog, I meant a broad selection of people I have encountered in my life, many of whom are good friends of mine, who strongly identify with the cat archetype and have feline characteristics. They way we move, think, act, and relate all show up in feline ways. We might walk right by someone we love and care about without acknowledging them if we are focused on something else. We might start walking to get food and change our minds to taking a bath on the way.
We also use cat language to explain things and meow at each other to communicate. For example, when I receive a text message from a cat tribe friend, I could say that they meowed me. Or if I was going to call her, I could say, I need to meow at so-and-so. In person we sometimes meow and purr and hiss to express our emotions, which is mutually understood. One time a friend put a bottle of juice in my fridge and wrote MEOW on the cap to indicate that it was hers.
As I was coming home from an otherworldly retreat last week (Witchcamp! More on that soon!) I was walking through the Safeway of the nearest city with two friends. After wandering down the ice cream aisle and losing them, I meowed to find them. This is a regular practice that I do with cat tribe friends, meowing to locate each other in a crowd. It is hard to mistake this for anything else, as might be possible with a name.
I was raised around a lot of cats and kittens, so I picked up many of my feline characteristics by immersion. I have been told, at as young as age 14, that I make sudden physical movements which are both graceful and awkward at the same time; they are cat-like. I like to rub up against people. I am an anarchist, as all cats are. Autonomy and freedom are very important to me. I don't do well with superimposed rules that I didn't agree to. Kittens are one of the most therapeutic beings for me to be around, and far, FAR, cuter than the strange chimp nymphs my own species replicates itself as.
Most of the cat folks I know identify as women, but thinking of my male cat friend as a tomcat really helps me understand where he is coming from and accept him more--as well as know how to relate and set boundaries. Queens don't hesitate to swipe a tom even as they are flirting, and toms don't seem to take it personally. On the other hand, gender construction is not a limitation for cats. Toms are just as sensual and erotic as any human woman is encouraged to be, and queens can be vicious, buff rat killers. It's very fluid for them--which is why we humans often have to look at their genitals before assigning a "correct" pronoun. Maybe they have a lot to teach us about how we think of gender.
Actually, cats have a lot to teach us about everything. I have a book called The Way of the Cat that basically suggests treating your cat(s) as your guru, and I think the author is spot on. If anyone can help me be more enlightened, it is probably my cats. They practice openheartness, playful presence, and nonattachment.
I hope this has clarified what the cat tribe is. If you are one of us, please add anything I have missed or that is different about your experience in the comments. Meee-Yow!
So what is cat tribe? When I used that phrase in my other blog, I meant a broad selection of people I have encountered in my life, many of whom are good friends of mine, who strongly identify with the cat archetype and have feline characteristics. They way we move, think, act, and relate all show up in feline ways. We might walk right by someone we love and care about without acknowledging them if we are focused on something else. We might start walking to get food and change our minds to taking a bath on the way.
We also use cat language to explain things and meow at each other to communicate. For example, when I receive a text message from a cat tribe friend, I could say that they meowed me. Or if I was going to call her, I could say, I need to meow at so-and-so. In person we sometimes meow and purr and hiss to express our emotions, which is mutually understood. One time a friend put a bottle of juice in my fridge and wrote MEOW on the cap to indicate that it was hers.
As I was coming home from an otherworldly retreat last week (Witchcamp! More on that soon!) I was walking through the Safeway of the nearest city with two friends. After wandering down the ice cream aisle and losing them, I meowed to find them. This is a regular practice that I do with cat tribe friends, meowing to locate each other in a crowd. It is hard to mistake this for anything else, as might be possible with a name.
I was raised around a lot of cats and kittens, so I picked up many of my feline characteristics by immersion. I have been told, at as young as age 14, that I make sudden physical movements which are both graceful and awkward at the same time; they are cat-like. I like to rub up against people. I am an anarchist, as all cats are. Autonomy and freedom are very important to me. I don't do well with superimposed rules that I didn't agree to. Kittens are one of the most therapeutic beings for me to be around, and far, FAR, cuter than the strange chimp nymphs my own species replicates itself as.
Most of the cat folks I know identify as women, but thinking of my male cat friend as a tomcat really helps me understand where he is coming from and accept him more--as well as know how to relate and set boundaries. Queens don't hesitate to swipe a tom even as they are flirting, and toms don't seem to take it personally. On the other hand, gender construction is not a limitation for cats. Toms are just as sensual and erotic as any human woman is encouraged to be, and queens can be vicious, buff rat killers. It's very fluid for them--which is why we humans often have to look at their genitals before assigning a "correct" pronoun. Maybe they have a lot to teach us about how we think of gender.
Actually, cats have a lot to teach us about everything. I have a book called The Way of the Cat that basically suggests treating your cat(s) as your guru, and I think the author is spot on. If anyone can help me be more enlightened, it is probably my cats. They practice openheartness, playful presence, and nonattachment.
I hope this has clarified what the cat tribe is. If you are one of us, please add anything I have missed or that is different about your experience in the comments. Meee-Yow!
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Celebrating Love, Being In Integrity
As I was sitting on the patio of a favorite downtown deli, my friend across the table from me said that someone she knows recently announced an engagement. My contempt for the current social conception of marriage came right out with no attempt at politeness.
"Why can't people just acknowledge weddings for what they are?" I scoffed. "It's not about a commitment--no one who gets married stays together for life anymore. It's a celebration of love in the moment."
I say this as someone who seen many friends marry and divorce, with anywhere from two to twenty years in between. I have also thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with all the serious partners I've had. And part of me still does. In a natural setting, the cultural context humans are evolved to be in, we would be around our lovers our whole lives, regardless of whether or not we marry them, because we'd all be in the same tribe, working together for our physical well-being on a daily basis.
However, in these modern times, as Miki Kashtan would say, the fabric of humanity has been torn. So we lose our lovers in a big way when we lose them. They may move out of state or disconnect completely, because we aren't from the same or even neighboring tribes. The whole reality of modern tribes as I understand them is that they are much more fluid than they were historically (and are still in some parts of the world).
Believing that til death do us part is unrealistic and quite possibly even unattainable (as well as potentially very unhealthy) I turned a while ago to the pagan practice of hand-fasting for a temporary period of time, e.g. a year and a day. I learned not to trust this either. I made a three-year commitment with a long-term partner, and within a few months he was saying he couldn't keep it. Of course, we didn't hold a community ritual, which is problematic in itself, but nevertheless my takeaway from that experience and others is that agreements are only ever intentions, at best. You can't count on them. So making vows to a partner seems like being somehow out of the loop of reality for me at this point.
Circling back to weddings, I am not saying that because I think marriage is essentially dead that we shouldn't celebrate love. Far from it! Let's celebrate it more often. Let's throw a party every time two people (or more) feel affection and appreciation for each other. It's beautiful, and we can always use an excuse to barbecue veggie kabobs and eat Kettle chips. Or maybe raw chocolate fondue if that's more your thing. Either way, I am super up for love parties all the time.
And if lovers happen to still be with each other a year later, or three months, or seven years and two days, or whenever the heck they feel like it, have another party. Each time the celebration will get bigger. I imagine sharing the love, turning from my beloved(s) at the moment to hug everyone, so that we can all bask in a radiant puddle of oxytocin. If weddings were like this, no one would have to feel the shame of a divorce, as if you failed because the connection between you and another person no longer opens a portal to the divine. As if the nature of the universe isn't that of constant change, while your intimate partnerships are supposed to be static.
So how about it? Who wants to invite me to a love party? Do you know who you'd celebrate with?
"Why can't people just acknowledge weddings for what they are?" I scoffed. "It's not about a commitment--no one who gets married stays together for life anymore. It's a celebration of love in the moment."
I say this as someone who seen many friends marry and divorce, with anywhere from two to twenty years in between. I have also thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with all the serious partners I've had. And part of me still does. In a natural setting, the cultural context humans are evolved to be in, we would be around our lovers our whole lives, regardless of whether or not we marry them, because we'd all be in the same tribe, working together for our physical well-being on a daily basis.
However, in these modern times, as Miki Kashtan would say, the fabric of humanity has been torn. So we lose our lovers in a big way when we lose them. They may move out of state or disconnect completely, because we aren't from the same or even neighboring tribes. The whole reality of modern tribes as I understand them is that they are much more fluid than they were historically (and are still in some parts of the world).
Believing that til death do us part is unrealistic and quite possibly even unattainable (as well as potentially very unhealthy) I turned a while ago to the pagan practice of hand-fasting for a temporary period of time, e.g. a year and a day. I learned not to trust this either. I made a three-year commitment with a long-term partner, and within a few months he was saying he couldn't keep it. Of course, we didn't hold a community ritual, which is problematic in itself, but nevertheless my takeaway from that experience and others is that agreements are only ever intentions, at best. You can't count on them. So making vows to a partner seems like being somehow out of the loop of reality for me at this point.
Circling back to weddings, I am not saying that because I think marriage is essentially dead that we shouldn't celebrate love. Far from it! Let's celebrate it more often. Let's throw a party every time two people (or more) feel affection and appreciation for each other. It's beautiful, and we can always use an excuse to barbecue veggie kabobs and eat Kettle chips. Or maybe raw chocolate fondue if that's more your thing. Either way, I am super up for love parties all the time.
And if lovers happen to still be with each other a year later, or three months, or seven years and two days, or whenever the heck they feel like it, have another party. Each time the celebration will get bigger. I imagine sharing the love, turning from my beloved(s) at the moment to hug everyone, so that we can all bask in a radiant puddle of oxytocin. If weddings were like this, no one would have to feel the shame of a divorce, as if you failed because the connection between you and another person no longer opens a portal to the divine. As if the nature of the universe isn't that of constant change, while your intimate partnerships are supposed to be static.
So how about it? Who wants to invite me to a love party? Do you know who you'd celebrate with?
Friday, July 11, 2014
Trusting Humanity On Rainbow Road
I'm walking through the desert, along the train tracks, with a traveling companion who doesn't have anything that can properly be called shoes, doing something I haven't done since I was a kid, which is look for a McDonald's sign. This strikes me as amusing and gives me cognitive dissonance, because for so long I have rejected McDonald's completely and done my best to ignore their advertisements. I am not looking for a plastic burger though, I am seeking the highway on-ramp at the end of Fernley, Nevada, so that we can hitchhike east on I-80 without being harassed by police. This strategy was suggested by a local sign-flyer at the Pilot gas station, where we'd been dropped off by a poor, sweet trucker who had just been ticketed for giving us an unauthorized ride (for only a few miles before he was interrupted).
After a few miles of slow-going progress, complete with goat-heads and a cloud of dust from behind a four-wheeler on the trail, a big yellow 'M' comes into view, and soon afterwards, a Starbucks--not somewhere I usually frequent either, but a reliable source of WiFi for my iPod touch that serves as a phone.
It's crowded inside with desert-dwellers seeking air-conditioned refuge from the heat. At first there is no available plug for charging my iPod. I buy the smallest and most palatable item I can find to justify my presence there (a package of Justin's organic peanut butter cups) and ask a young man to trade seats with me so I can access an outlet while catching up on texts. I've been meowed by my cat-tribe friend in Arcata whom I was just visiting and get to gleefully announce to her that I made it over the Sierras in one morning.
The state of Nevada only has three Craigslist sites: Reno, Elko, and Las Vegas. The Reno rideshare listings are all from stuck rainbow-goers. One sounds eerily like me, asking for folks to message or come pick up at a specific on-ramp because they will have irregular access to the internet--probably through an iPod touch, I imagine. I wonder if the locals are sick of what must seem to them like a caravan of bums passing through.
Having exhausted any rideshare possibilities (and without much gas money anyway), my companion and I continue on our way to the Interstate, and lo and behold, there is a cardboard sign with 'Utah' written on it on the ground! This means someone else DID get a ride from here! Encouragement comes in small doses when hitchhiking, but is potent--a smile or wave from a packed car, a resounding honk from a trucker, a grin from a motorcyclist, all contribute to the resilience it takes to offer oneself patiently to the generosity of strangers. This sign is part of that, so I pick it up and flash it at passing cars.
A couple hundred feet up the freeway, a hitchhiker much dirtier than us is thumbing it too. He's "tourng the 48" and warns us that there's not another city for 60 miles, and nothing but desert between here and there. He clearly thinks we're crazy to continue walking away from a reliable source of water and food, if needed, but I am antsy and want to continue in the right direction. We have enough water to last us for at least a day, and I'd rather sleep in the wild sagebrush if needed than near a settlement of people averse to travelers. Soon we come to an overpass that provides much-needed shade. It also reduces visibility for cars passing through, so I have to step out into the sun when there is traffic (still on the safer side of the holy white line of the shoulder, of course).
A law enforcement truck passes us without stopping, which is a relief. Apparently Nevada has decided to stop enforcing it's anti-hitchhiking laws, at least strictly. Two different cops we talked to elsewhere have already told us they don't mind hitchhiking, even though it's technically illegal. They probably are glad to see us getting out of their jurisdiction.
One of the odd things about my choice to travel in this manner is that I am voluntarily putting myself in the position of being seen as 'lesser'. The story I tell myself about hitchhiking is that it's fun, economical, more ecological (spontaneous carpooling), an adventure, a spiritual practice of surrendering to life in the moment, a way to meet people I wouldn't talk to otherwise... but I am very aware of other stories that can be told: hitchhikers are bums, who in turn are selfish, lazy, dirty, unwanted, criminals, not real citizens, leeches on society; it goes on and on. It is painful to be seen through this lens, but transformational to love the people seeing me this way and empathize with their existence.
Another story is that, as a young woman, I must be in trouble to be in this situation, and/or I am naive to be putting myself into such dangerous situations where I could be raped. This is exactly the line that a female trucker took at Sierra Sid's casino and truck stop the night before. I definitely went into defensiveness immediately, but was also grateful to have some clarity on how I wanted to respond, a gift from other feminist thinkers and writers of our time. I challenged her assumption that it is my responsibility to prevent someone from raping me, and asked why she wasn't talking to the truckers she claimed were so dangerous, telling them to treat women with basic respect, instead of telling me to avoid them. Socialized into rape culture as she is, she countered that it would be pointless, because OF COURSE sexual assault is just inevitable.
This is easily seen for its falseness by the fact that most men do NOT sexually assault women, at least not on purpose (many assaults do happen because consent was not gained, but having not been educated in gaining verbal consent or recognizing nonverbal cues, men in this culture don't realize they violated someone). I have been on dozens of hitchhiking trips, taken probably well over a hundred rides from strangers at this point, and have never been sexually assaulted in someone's car while hitching. There have been what I thought were close calls, people I was sketched out by and wanted to reach for my knife just in case. But nothing ever happened.
I have, however, been raped and assaulted in numerous other contexts, including in places of residence, and with people I was attracted to and wanted to explore consensual touch with. This all goes to show that rape is never the victim's fault; it is unpredictable, and telling a woman not to put herself into a "dangerous situation" only perpetuates victim-blaming. This is actually a significant and meaningful part of my choice to hitchhike, oftentimes alone--it is my way of both saying, "Look, the world is a lot safer and kinder than isolation culture would have you believe!" (and plenty of my experiences attest to that) and of saying that even if I am raped while hitching, it still isn't my fault, I am not stupid for doing so, but the person who assaulted me has serious issues that stem from how our culture socializes people into horrifically tragic and unhealthy sexuality.
So despite all the warnings that people are dangerous, selfish, and won't pick up two hippies in the desert heat, there we were, on the I-80 east of Fernley, when a guy in a large truck hauling some massive trailers pulled over. He was only headed up the road though, and we needed to get past Lovelock and the hitchhiking prohibited zone (near the prison where OJ Simpson lives). Almost immediately after the truck pulled away, leaving a skid mark behind, disappointment turned to relief and excitement when another car pulled over and a guy in a tie dye shirt stepped out. Here was our ride the rest of the way to the rainbow gathering!
After a few miles of slow-going progress, complete with goat-heads and a cloud of dust from behind a four-wheeler on the trail, a big yellow 'M' comes into view, and soon afterwards, a Starbucks--not somewhere I usually frequent either, but a reliable source of WiFi for my iPod touch that serves as a phone.
It's crowded inside with desert-dwellers seeking air-conditioned refuge from the heat. At first there is no available plug for charging my iPod. I buy the smallest and most palatable item I can find to justify my presence there (a package of Justin's organic peanut butter cups) and ask a young man to trade seats with me so I can access an outlet while catching up on texts. I've been meowed by my cat-tribe friend in Arcata whom I was just visiting and get to gleefully announce to her that I made it over the Sierras in one morning.
The state of Nevada only has three Craigslist sites: Reno, Elko, and Las Vegas. The Reno rideshare listings are all from stuck rainbow-goers. One sounds eerily like me, asking for folks to message or come pick up at a specific on-ramp because they will have irregular access to the internet--probably through an iPod touch, I imagine. I wonder if the locals are sick of what must seem to them like a caravan of bums passing through.
Having exhausted any rideshare possibilities (and without much gas money anyway), my companion and I continue on our way to the Interstate, and lo and behold, there is a cardboard sign with 'Utah' written on it on the ground! This means someone else DID get a ride from here! Encouragement comes in small doses when hitchhiking, but is potent--a smile or wave from a packed car, a resounding honk from a trucker, a grin from a motorcyclist, all contribute to the resilience it takes to offer oneself patiently to the generosity of strangers. This sign is part of that, so I pick it up and flash it at passing cars.
A couple hundred feet up the freeway, a hitchhiker much dirtier than us is thumbing it too. He's "tourng the 48" and warns us that there's not another city for 60 miles, and nothing but desert between here and there. He clearly thinks we're crazy to continue walking away from a reliable source of water and food, if needed, but I am antsy and want to continue in the right direction. We have enough water to last us for at least a day, and I'd rather sleep in the wild sagebrush if needed than near a settlement of people averse to travelers. Soon we come to an overpass that provides much-needed shade. It also reduces visibility for cars passing through, so I have to step out into the sun when there is traffic (still on the safer side of the holy white line of the shoulder, of course).
A law enforcement truck passes us without stopping, which is a relief. Apparently Nevada has decided to stop enforcing it's anti-hitchhiking laws, at least strictly. Two different cops we talked to elsewhere have already told us they don't mind hitchhiking, even though it's technically illegal. They probably are glad to see us getting out of their jurisdiction.
One of the odd things about my choice to travel in this manner is that I am voluntarily putting myself in the position of being seen as 'lesser'. The story I tell myself about hitchhiking is that it's fun, economical, more ecological (spontaneous carpooling), an adventure, a spiritual practice of surrendering to life in the moment, a way to meet people I wouldn't talk to otherwise... but I am very aware of other stories that can be told: hitchhikers are bums, who in turn are selfish, lazy, dirty, unwanted, criminals, not real citizens, leeches on society; it goes on and on. It is painful to be seen through this lens, but transformational to love the people seeing me this way and empathize with their existence.
Another story is that, as a young woman, I must be in trouble to be in this situation, and/or I am naive to be putting myself into such dangerous situations where I could be raped. This is exactly the line that a female trucker took at Sierra Sid's casino and truck stop the night before. I definitely went into defensiveness immediately, but was also grateful to have some clarity on how I wanted to respond, a gift from other feminist thinkers and writers of our time. I challenged her assumption that it is my responsibility to prevent someone from raping me, and asked why she wasn't talking to the truckers she claimed were so dangerous, telling them to treat women with basic respect, instead of telling me to avoid them. Socialized into rape culture as she is, she countered that it would be pointless, because OF COURSE sexual assault is just inevitable.
This is easily seen for its falseness by the fact that most men do NOT sexually assault women, at least not on purpose (many assaults do happen because consent was not gained, but having not been educated in gaining verbal consent or recognizing nonverbal cues, men in this culture don't realize they violated someone). I have been on dozens of hitchhiking trips, taken probably well over a hundred rides from strangers at this point, and have never been sexually assaulted in someone's car while hitching. There have been what I thought were close calls, people I was sketched out by and wanted to reach for my knife just in case. But nothing ever happened.
I have, however, been raped and assaulted in numerous other contexts, including in places of residence, and with people I was attracted to and wanted to explore consensual touch with. This all goes to show that rape is never the victim's fault; it is unpredictable, and telling a woman not to put herself into a "dangerous situation" only perpetuates victim-blaming. This is actually a significant and meaningful part of my choice to hitchhike, oftentimes alone--it is my way of both saying, "Look, the world is a lot safer and kinder than isolation culture would have you believe!" (and plenty of my experiences attest to that) and of saying that even if I am raped while hitching, it still isn't my fault, I am not stupid for doing so, but the person who assaulted me has serious issues that stem from how our culture socializes people into horrifically tragic and unhealthy sexuality.
So despite all the warnings that people are dangerous, selfish, and won't pick up two hippies in the desert heat, there we were, on the I-80 east of Fernley, when a guy in a large truck hauling some massive trailers pulled over. He was only headed up the road though, and we needed to get past Lovelock and the hitchhiking prohibited zone (near the prison where OJ Simpson lives). Almost immediately after the truck pulled away, leaving a skid mark behind, disappointment turned to relief and excitement when another car pulled over and a guy in a tie dye shirt stepped out. Here was our ride the rest of the way to the rainbow gathering!
Friday, October 4, 2013
Sex at the Edge, Part 2: Consent
The other night I was at a concert in my town when I saw the token "creepy guy" of my social circle. Many young women have had distasteful run-ins with this older man, yet he continues to frequent community events without being challenged for his poor respect for boundaries. An interaction I had that evening points towards why that is so.
I saw a young-ish looking girl dancing with him, and said to my friend (who knows the whole story of my negative experiences with this man) that I ought to warn her about him, 'cause I wish somebody had warned me about him. Later, that girl came up to dance near us, and my friend started to tell her of the man's reputation. I came over only to hear the girl say, "I don't want to know; I'm dating him." I told her about it anyway, in a general way, and she asked me, "Did you use your voice?" I was caught off guard by this question, which seemed to blame me for his actions, and said that I didn't have a chance to, because I was asleep when he did the creepiest thing towards me, (which was to crawl on me and whisper in my ear how he loved me, but I didn't tell her the details). Her response was to give me what was for me a very uncomfortable hug. "That's too bad my boyfriend took advantage of you in your sleep when you were a teenager, let me contaminate you with his energetic germs."
What I didn't tell her, but I wish I had as suggested by my friend later, is how scared I was in that moment that he was going to rape me. I wanted nothing more than to push him off of me angrily and tell him how not OK it was what he was doing, but I was alone in his house (he came back early in the middle of the night while I was housesitting for him on his trip to Burning Man). I was scared that might escalate the situation and push him to do something he might not do otherwise. So I lay there quietly pretending to still be asleep, hoping he would go away, and promising myself that if he tried anything more I'd fight him off tooth and nail.
I have told this story so many times that I grow weary of repeating it, yet the trauma of that fear still lives in my body. Not only do I resent him for it; I resent my community for not responding in any significant way when I spoke out publicly, years after the fact. It really left me with a sense that nobody cared. I also received a lot of remarks similar to what the girl said about using my voice that are indicative to me of a dissonance I have with the culture surrounding of events like rainbow gatherings, music festivals, heart song and drum circles, and wholesome foods potlucks. The ethic around touch and sexuality seems to be that touch is great and we need more of it in our lives; let's move away from mainstream culture by touching all the time. However I have not noticed people asking if a person wants touch. In fact, on the other hand, if someone speaks out against it they are often seen as uptight. So ultimately, the responsibility for stopping or preventing unwanted touch is on the person receiving it, and at risk to their social acceptance.
There are many examples of this. At my first rainbow gathering, which was amazing in many ways, I had a rude awakening to this lack of consent culture when I told an acquaintance of mine not to touch me and he acted like he was entitled to. When I asked the circle of people around us for support, not only did they fail to chastise him, at least one long-term friend looked at me in a way I interpret as her thinking I was ridiculous. I felt alone, scared, and angry (to protect myself) in the moment.
In another instance, a friend of mine came home from a festival with a traumatic story about a young man she was spending time with for a whole day and went into some hot springs with where the norm is to be naked. He suddenly grabbed her with no permission asked and she could even feel his boner against her leg. When she vehemently said that she needed space, he said, "What's the matter? We're all one anyway!"
This excuse of unity and oneness to violate people disturbs me greatly. On the other hand, I have experienced what is called consent culture around groups of people who identify as punks, anarchists, activists, and/or Reclaiming witches. In these communities, to my experience, there is a strong ethic around asking before doing anything physical to someone, and especially sexual. In some instances this ethic does seem to get in the way of moments unfolding organically--for example if someone is crying, or just sitting next to you during a moment of sweet group connection, it can feel very natural to put an arm around them, but awkward when the social norm is to always ask before touching.
I have given a lot of thought to this question of consent because of my experiences in both types of communities (and let's not even get started on mainstream culture!). The conclusion I have come to is that there are three types of situations that are best approached, in my ideal world, with different protocol. The categories are:
1. Situations where consent has clearly not been given, and there is no indication that the person has implied consent, or reason to believe that consent is implied. I would say this older man laying on me in my sleep falls in this category. Other important examples include having sex or kissing someone for the first time, or even the second or third, or anytime outside of an ongoing committed relationship, or when lots of time has passed between encounters.
2. Situations where consent is clearly implied, or there is ongoing consent, such as in a relationship where certain norms have been established. This is the area that I'd like to see acknowledged more in some of those anarchist social circles I mentioned. One example I've heard is that it's never OK to have sex with someone in their sleep. This is (to me) obviously true at a party with strangers, but with a trusted lover, being woken up to sex sounds delightful. This category includes all things previously discussed or agreed upon, and may include some kind of agreement like, "I'll let you know if you no longer have my consent for this."
3. Situations that fall into neither of these categories, but are some kind of grey area--such as putting your arm around a new friend who you think needs comfort, or trying something new but not too wild in bed with a relatively new lover (perhaps...armpit kissing?). These are things you think might be nice for the other person, but aren't 100%, or even necessarily 80%, sure.
For category 1, I think the best thing for the initiator to do, and in my mind the ethical thing, is to express verbally what they desire, and ask how the other person feels about it before moving forward. Obviously the other person must feel positively about it and say yes to do so. Also, there is something about asking consent to even discuss specifics. For example, if someone I don't know in a bar comes up to me and asks if they can give me a rim job, I would find that lewd and offensive. Prior to mentioning such details, I believe consent to discuss them is appropriate, perhaps something like, "I find you really attractive and am looking for some casual and kinky sex tonight, are you interested in hearing more?"
For category 2, but especially category 3, I've developed an idea of what I think is ethical, which is that you can go ahead and do what you want without asking, BUT if the person reacts negatively, take full responsibility for your actions. Apologize, empathize, and accept their response, no matter how unexpectedly strong it may be. In category 2 this wouldn't apply as much--the receiver would have more responsibility for not having communicated a revoking of consent. But in category 3, I think this is crucial. Another way of saying it is, don't do anything physical or sexual towards someone unless you are willing to accept their reaction, whatever it may be. If the fact you didn't ask traumatizes them, you are partly responsible for that.
I like this ethic because I think it allows for some open-endedness, rather than a hard and fast formal consent rule, but discourages people from taking the risk of not asking unless they are pretty sure it's OK.
Do you think that you would be a healthier, happier person if this ethic of consent was taught in 8th grade health class (or any type of information about consent for that matter)? How do you feel about being on the receiving end of it? Or the side of initiating touch with these ideas as guidelines? Any other comments about the issues raised in this post more generally? I'd love to hear from you, please comment below.
I saw a young-ish looking girl dancing with him, and said to my friend (who knows the whole story of my negative experiences with this man) that I ought to warn her about him, 'cause I wish somebody had warned me about him. Later, that girl came up to dance near us, and my friend started to tell her of the man's reputation. I came over only to hear the girl say, "I don't want to know; I'm dating him." I told her about it anyway, in a general way, and she asked me, "Did you use your voice?" I was caught off guard by this question, which seemed to blame me for his actions, and said that I didn't have a chance to, because I was asleep when he did the creepiest thing towards me, (which was to crawl on me and whisper in my ear how he loved me, but I didn't tell her the details). Her response was to give me what was for me a very uncomfortable hug. "That's too bad my boyfriend took advantage of you in your sleep when you were a teenager, let me contaminate you with his energetic germs."
What I didn't tell her, but I wish I had as suggested by my friend later, is how scared I was in that moment that he was going to rape me. I wanted nothing more than to push him off of me angrily and tell him how not OK it was what he was doing, but I was alone in his house (he came back early in the middle of the night while I was housesitting for him on his trip to Burning Man). I was scared that might escalate the situation and push him to do something he might not do otherwise. So I lay there quietly pretending to still be asleep, hoping he would go away, and promising myself that if he tried anything more I'd fight him off tooth and nail.
I have told this story so many times that I grow weary of repeating it, yet the trauma of that fear still lives in my body. Not only do I resent him for it; I resent my community for not responding in any significant way when I spoke out publicly, years after the fact. It really left me with a sense that nobody cared. I also received a lot of remarks similar to what the girl said about using my voice that are indicative to me of a dissonance I have with the culture surrounding of events like rainbow gatherings, music festivals, heart song and drum circles, and wholesome foods potlucks. The ethic around touch and sexuality seems to be that touch is great and we need more of it in our lives; let's move away from mainstream culture by touching all the time. However I have not noticed people asking if a person wants touch. In fact, on the other hand, if someone speaks out against it they are often seen as uptight. So ultimately, the responsibility for stopping or preventing unwanted touch is on the person receiving it, and at risk to their social acceptance.
There are many examples of this. At my first rainbow gathering, which was amazing in many ways, I had a rude awakening to this lack of consent culture when I told an acquaintance of mine not to touch me and he acted like he was entitled to. When I asked the circle of people around us for support, not only did they fail to chastise him, at least one long-term friend looked at me in a way I interpret as her thinking I was ridiculous. I felt alone, scared, and angry (to protect myself) in the moment.
In another instance, a friend of mine came home from a festival with a traumatic story about a young man she was spending time with for a whole day and went into some hot springs with where the norm is to be naked. He suddenly grabbed her with no permission asked and she could even feel his boner against her leg. When she vehemently said that she needed space, he said, "What's the matter? We're all one anyway!"
This excuse of unity and oneness to violate people disturbs me greatly. On the other hand, I have experienced what is called consent culture around groups of people who identify as punks, anarchists, activists, and/or Reclaiming witches. In these communities, to my experience, there is a strong ethic around asking before doing anything physical to someone, and especially sexual. In some instances this ethic does seem to get in the way of moments unfolding organically--for example if someone is crying, or just sitting next to you during a moment of sweet group connection, it can feel very natural to put an arm around them, but awkward when the social norm is to always ask before touching.
I have given a lot of thought to this question of consent because of my experiences in both types of communities (and let's not even get started on mainstream culture!). The conclusion I have come to is that there are three types of situations that are best approached, in my ideal world, with different protocol. The categories are:
1. Situations where consent has clearly not been given, and there is no indication that the person has implied consent, or reason to believe that consent is implied. I would say this older man laying on me in my sleep falls in this category. Other important examples include having sex or kissing someone for the first time, or even the second or third, or anytime outside of an ongoing committed relationship, or when lots of time has passed between encounters.
2. Situations where consent is clearly implied, or there is ongoing consent, such as in a relationship where certain norms have been established. This is the area that I'd like to see acknowledged more in some of those anarchist social circles I mentioned. One example I've heard is that it's never OK to have sex with someone in their sleep. This is (to me) obviously true at a party with strangers, but with a trusted lover, being woken up to sex sounds delightful. This category includes all things previously discussed or agreed upon, and may include some kind of agreement like, "I'll let you know if you no longer have my consent for this."
3. Situations that fall into neither of these categories, but are some kind of grey area--such as putting your arm around a new friend who you think needs comfort, or trying something new but not too wild in bed with a relatively new lover (perhaps...armpit kissing?). These are things you think might be nice for the other person, but aren't 100%, or even necessarily 80%, sure.
For category 1, I think the best thing for the initiator to do, and in my mind the ethical thing, is to express verbally what they desire, and ask how the other person feels about it before moving forward. Obviously the other person must feel positively about it and say yes to do so. Also, there is something about asking consent to even discuss specifics. For example, if someone I don't know in a bar comes up to me and asks if they can give me a rim job, I would find that lewd and offensive. Prior to mentioning such details, I believe consent to discuss them is appropriate, perhaps something like, "I find you really attractive and am looking for some casual and kinky sex tonight, are you interested in hearing more?"
For category 2, but especially category 3, I've developed an idea of what I think is ethical, which is that you can go ahead and do what you want without asking, BUT if the person reacts negatively, take full responsibility for your actions. Apologize, empathize, and accept their response, no matter how unexpectedly strong it may be. In category 2 this wouldn't apply as much--the receiver would have more responsibility for not having communicated a revoking of consent. But in category 3, I think this is crucial. Another way of saying it is, don't do anything physical or sexual towards someone unless you are willing to accept their reaction, whatever it may be. If the fact you didn't ask traumatizes them, you are partly responsible for that.
I like this ethic because I think it allows for some open-endedness, rather than a hard and fast formal consent rule, but discourages people from taking the risk of not asking unless they are pretty sure it's OK.
Do you think that you would be a healthier, happier person if this ethic of consent was taught in 8th grade health class (or any type of information about consent for that matter)? How do you feel about being on the receiving end of it? Or the side of initiating touch with these ideas as guidelines? Any other comments about the issues raised in this post more generally? I'd love to hear from you, please comment below.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Sex at the Edge, Part 1
I've wanted to write a blog about sex for weeks. I've thought of it before the past weeks; and I have often been stopped by my desire for privacy. If I blog about sex, surely "creepy" men (or possibly other genders) will message me or make comments that I am uncomfortable with, thinking that they are invited to relate to me personally about their sexuality.
Let me make clear that this is NOT the case. Whoever is reading this: I respect your sexuality as sacred, but that does not mean I want anything to do with it. This blog is to explore ideas and concepts about sexuality, not to exchange sexual energy. Do not send me any messages or comments that could be interpreted as you expressing sexual energy towards me. You are welcome and encouraged to share any other thoughts, feelings, and experiences in the comments below; and maybe you will find the concepts explored useful when sharing your sexuality with others, in person (or maybe not), elsewhere, who have consented to do so.
Now--onward! What do I have to say about sex, today, or any day? I could talk about cliteracy, a word and movement I just recently learned about. In the past, I have blogged about the importance of foreskin and the atrocity of infant circumcision. I've also touched on my experience with Tantra. What more is there to say?
I had an attempted one night stand, of sorts, over the summer. I knew the guy for many years prior, but only peripherally. We never really hung out, just saw each other around. Unfortunately, it was awful. I kind of hate the word "foreplay," because I see the activities it usually signifies as integral to "sex" rather than separate. But I'm not sure how else to explain that this person did not seem to value foreplay whatsoever. I tried my best to share my (self-accredited, I suppose) expertise at communication in this context. He seemed to feel really awkward about this, which made it more difficult, but hope I imparted at least a glimpse of possibility for a more conscious approach to sexuality.
I wish I could share more details and glean lessons learned, but I don't know how to do that without possibly betraying his privacy. One lesson learned, for me, is that even "casual sex" should not preclude intimacy. In fact, if I'm going to participate in casual sex, I want it to be intimate, and sensual, human connection, not just mere physical gratification. I have a box under my bed to help with that.
Afterwards, I noticed the benefit of my years of practicing observing without evaluating (a la Nonviolent Communication). Part of me--but only a small part! yay!--wanted to go into a shame spiral about my choice to partake in that activity in that way. I was able to connect to the rational explanation that that impulse probably comes from years of socialization in a Judeo-Christian culture, and that there's nothing wrong with trying to get my basic human needs met. So instead of shame, I simply mourned. I mourned that only 30% of men in the U.S. know what the clitoris is (this statistic is hearsay, but I trust it based on my own experience), and that culturally people seem so uncomfortable communicating their desires, fears, and other relevant information in a sexual context.
When I came up with the title to this blog, I thought I'd explore what sex means in the life of those of us who are...counterculture, for lack of a better word. I live my life at the edge of society in many ways, and sex is certainly one of them. I want to continue with this topic as a series, sharing my take on this important aspect of life based on the synthesis of my experiences, Tantra workshops I've attended, and books I've read on sacred sexuality, as well as how skilled communication, including NVC tools, enhances sexual experiences a hundredfold. If there are any specific topics you'd like to see explored, please share your suggestions in the comments.
Let me make clear that this is NOT the case. Whoever is reading this: I respect your sexuality as sacred, but that does not mean I want anything to do with it. This blog is to explore ideas and concepts about sexuality, not to exchange sexual energy. Do not send me any messages or comments that could be interpreted as you expressing sexual energy towards me. You are welcome and encouraged to share any other thoughts, feelings, and experiences in the comments below; and maybe you will find the concepts explored useful when sharing your sexuality with others, in person (or maybe not), elsewhere, who have consented to do so.
Now--onward! What do I have to say about sex, today, or any day? I could talk about cliteracy, a word and movement I just recently learned about. In the past, I have blogged about the importance of foreskin and the atrocity of infant circumcision. I've also touched on my experience with Tantra. What more is there to say?
I had an attempted one night stand, of sorts, over the summer. I knew the guy for many years prior, but only peripherally. We never really hung out, just saw each other around. Unfortunately, it was awful. I kind of hate the word "foreplay," because I see the activities it usually signifies as integral to "sex" rather than separate. But I'm not sure how else to explain that this person did not seem to value foreplay whatsoever. I tried my best to share my (self-accredited, I suppose) expertise at communication in this context. He seemed to feel really awkward about this, which made it more difficult, but hope I imparted at least a glimpse of possibility for a more conscious approach to sexuality.
I wish I could share more details and glean lessons learned, but I don't know how to do that without possibly betraying his privacy. One lesson learned, for me, is that even "casual sex" should not preclude intimacy. In fact, if I'm going to participate in casual sex, I want it to be intimate, and sensual, human connection, not just mere physical gratification. I have a box under my bed to help with that.
Afterwards, I noticed the benefit of my years of practicing observing without evaluating (a la Nonviolent Communication). Part of me--but only a small part! yay!--wanted to go into a shame spiral about my choice to partake in that activity in that way. I was able to connect to the rational explanation that that impulse probably comes from years of socialization in a Judeo-Christian culture, and that there's nothing wrong with trying to get my basic human needs met. So instead of shame, I simply mourned. I mourned that only 30% of men in the U.S. know what the clitoris is (this statistic is hearsay, but I trust it based on my own experience), and that culturally people seem so uncomfortable communicating their desires, fears, and other relevant information in a sexual context.
When I came up with the title to this blog, I thought I'd explore what sex means in the life of those of us who are...counterculture, for lack of a better word. I live my life at the edge of society in many ways, and sex is certainly one of them. I want to continue with this topic as a series, sharing my take on this important aspect of life based on the synthesis of my experiences, Tantra workshops I've attended, and books I've read on sacred sexuality, as well as how skilled communication, including NVC tools, enhances sexual experiences a hundredfold. If there are any specific topics you'd like to see explored, please share your suggestions in the comments.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Taking Sustainability Into Our Own Hands
I've been experimenting with using a dating site lately, and one of the people I started talking with on there said in his profile that he studies sustainable manufacturing. I messaged him about this topic, and we have gotten into a debate that brings up a lot of what is most painful for me about greenwashing--which is when industries and education programs try to make something sound environmentally better, but really isn't going to save the world and actually serves to maintain the status quo by misleading people to trust in trumped up non-solutions to ecological problems. So, this is my way to vent about that while sharing my perspective on worthwhile ways to true sustainability, available in the here and now, instead of putting our faith on some idealistic technological solution of the distant future.
Meagan's 5 Rules for Practical Sustainability
1. Never buy anything new that you can get used. The more we buy from currently manufacturing industries, the more they will manufacture. I think in general, the carbon footprint of even a green product is higher than that of a non-green product purchased at a thrift store, or better yet, acquired at a clothing swap or while dumpster diving. This also gives you more money to buy the better options for things you have to buy new--such as organic or recycled toilet paper or organic food.
2. The best solutions involve human interaction rather than money. Two great examples of this in Chico are Rely On Community, a Facebook group where members can ask for or offer resources of all kinds, such as furniture or extra garden veggies. This easily duplicable format has already spread to Arcata (Rely On Community Arcata) and could be put to use in your community too! Like Food Not Bombs, it is open source technology. The other example in Chico is our monthly Abundance Exchange, which is like a clothing swap, only for everything: books, furniture, toys, art, etc. People bring whatever they don't want anymore, and anyone can take anything regardless of how much stuff they brought. Community members take turns hosting this in their yard by coordinating through Facebook. One of the most beautiful, culture-shifting moments I have seen from this event is when passersby stop, thinking it's a yard sale, and ask how much something is, only to be told everything is free. This really warms my heart. Leftovers are also donated to a thrift store or homeless resource centers. This also embodies a permaculture principle by stacking functions: free "shopping" also becomes a social event, meeting needs for connection and fun.
3. If you want to help the Earth, spend time in Nature. Sustainability seems to get watered-down and abstract in artificial settings. Some so-called sustainability experts or scholars are focused so much on statistics and projections and economics, that the idea of sustainability gets divorced from anything that can actually help the Earth regenerate resilient biodiversity. This is my opportunity to give credit where credit is due: I got the idea for this blog from a place near my house where I go to connect with Nature. There are plants and logs and rocks there, who listened to me vent and then suggested this blog. I thank them. Nature is not only inspiring though, being in connection with nonhuman beings helps us cultivate empathy for them that many participants in industry and consumerism sorely lack. It reminds us that Nature is not an abstraction, but a community of sentient beings.
4. Do things on a human scale. This is stolen directly from the permaculture principle list. It means that we humans need to be more humble, and limit ourselves to activities and projects where we can more easily see all the long-term consequences. For example, only making changes to our environment that will go back to nature within our lifetimes, or only using technology that is human powered as much as possible, such as bicycles instead of cars, hand-powered egg-beaters and nutcrackers and cherry-pitters, etc. (You can also make bike machines that do these tasks much more efficiently, on zero fuel, and you get a work out).
5. Empathize with self and other. Sadly, this is a principle I did not have the inner resources to apply during the conversation with above-mentioned user of internet dating site. I was agitated upon receiving his messages and responded with reactivity instead of thoughtfulness and the patience that it takes to cultivate mutual understanding in the presence of disparate worldviews. However, I cannot see how we will create a sustainable society without empathy. When people get into "rational" arguments and say things like, "Don't be emotional," they are usually in one of their most emotional states of mind, and are refusing to acknowledge the impact or wisdom of our feelings on why and how we make decisions. It is cliché at this point, but we can always honor the values and needs behind someone's political or economical strategy, even while disagreeing on those strategies, and this makes a more peaceful society by staying connected to each other's humanity.
On this note, I am currently starting a new NVC practice group that will meet to practice just this--having conversations with those who we don't see eye to eye with, seeking understanding and mutual respect without having to agree, and being heard in a way that cultivates trust across party lines--or even intra-party lines. If you would like to be a part of this project, which I'm calling The Edge Effect, please contact me at creatorbeing1@gmail.com
What about you? What rules do you have for yourself for practical sustainability? I know I missed a few, or probably many, that I would happily include on this list. Please share in the comments :)
Meagan's 5 Rules for Practical Sustainability
1. Never buy anything new that you can get used. The more we buy from currently manufacturing industries, the more they will manufacture. I think in general, the carbon footprint of even a green product is higher than that of a non-green product purchased at a thrift store, or better yet, acquired at a clothing swap or while dumpster diving. This also gives you more money to buy the better options for things you have to buy new--such as organic or recycled toilet paper or organic food.
2. The best solutions involve human interaction rather than money. Two great examples of this in Chico are Rely On Community, a Facebook group where members can ask for or offer resources of all kinds, such as furniture or extra garden veggies. This easily duplicable format has already spread to Arcata (Rely On Community Arcata) and could be put to use in your community too! Like Food Not Bombs, it is open source technology. The other example in Chico is our monthly Abundance Exchange, which is like a clothing swap, only for everything: books, furniture, toys, art, etc. People bring whatever they don't want anymore, and anyone can take anything regardless of how much stuff they brought. Community members take turns hosting this in their yard by coordinating through Facebook. One of the most beautiful, culture-shifting moments I have seen from this event is when passersby stop, thinking it's a yard sale, and ask how much something is, only to be told everything is free. This really warms my heart. Leftovers are also donated to a thrift store or homeless resource centers. This also embodies a permaculture principle by stacking functions: free "shopping" also becomes a social event, meeting needs for connection and fun.
3. If you want to help the Earth, spend time in Nature. Sustainability seems to get watered-down and abstract in artificial settings. Some so-called sustainability experts or scholars are focused so much on statistics and projections and economics, that the idea of sustainability gets divorced from anything that can actually help the Earth regenerate resilient biodiversity. This is my opportunity to give credit where credit is due: I got the idea for this blog from a place near my house where I go to connect with Nature. There are plants and logs and rocks there, who listened to me vent and then suggested this blog. I thank them. Nature is not only inspiring though, being in connection with nonhuman beings helps us cultivate empathy for them that many participants in industry and consumerism sorely lack. It reminds us that Nature is not an abstraction, but a community of sentient beings.
4. Do things on a human scale. This is stolen directly from the permaculture principle list. It means that we humans need to be more humble, and limit ourselves to activities and projects where we can more easily see all the long-term consequences. For example, only making changes to our environment that will go back to nature within our lifetimes, or only using technology that is human powered as much as possible, such as bicycles instead of cars, hand-powered egg-beaters and nutcrackers and cherry-pitters, etc. (You can also make bike machines that do these tasks much more efficiently, on zero fuel, and you get a work out).
5. Empathize with self and other. Sadly, this is a principle I did not have the inner resources to apply during the conversation with above-mentioned user of internet dating site. I was agitated upon receiving his messages and responded with reactivity instead of thoughtfulness and the patience that it takes to cultivate mutual understanding in the presence of disparate worldviews. However, I cannot see how we will create a sustainable society without empathy. When people get into "rational" arguments and say things like, "Don't be emotional," they are usually in one of their most emotional states of mind, and are refusing to acknowledge the impact or wisdom of our feelings on why and how we make decisions. It is cliché at this point, but we can always honor the values and needs behind someone's political or economical strategy, even while disagreeing on those strategies, and this makes a more peaceful society by staying connected to each other's humanity.
On this note, I am currently starting a new NVC practice group that will meet to practice just this--having conversations with those who we don't see eye to eye with, seeking understanding and mutual respect without having to agree, and being heard in a way that cultivates trust across party lines--or even intra-party lines. If you would like to be a part of this project, which I'm calling The Edge Effect, please contact me at creatorbeing1@gmail.com
What about you? What rules do you have for yourself for practical sustainability? I know I missed a few, or probably many, that I would happily include on this list. Please share in the comments :)
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