Category: Nature

Life After the Spill

Life After the Spill

A week ago I led a small group experience in Asheville. I showed an audio visual presentation of images from the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill last summer and then we did a meditation visualizing the Earth healing from this and other man-made disasters. Next I showed beautiful images of nature from many places in the world and we did a gratitude meditation. During this time I felt the strong connection humans have with the planet and a flow of gratitude from the Earth as we sat in silence, in stillness cultivating appreciation and love.

Today, as I was paddling my SUP board on Mobile Bay dolphins swam under the board, flocks of pelicans flew overhead, and small mullet splashed in front of me. What a different experience from a year ago.

Last June 13 I was walking the beaches documenting oil washing ashore in Alabama and grieving the unfolding disaster, still spewing unknown amounts of crude into the Gulf of Mexico. As I walked the shores I expected few shore birds and little marine life to survive. I felt as if I was attending a wake each time I visited the beach. And certainly I was for the thousands of birds, marine mammals, sea turtles and fish that died. And for the 11 men who died. It was so devastating to witness this tragedy. Each blog post felt like a eulogy.

But today, there is life on Mobile Bay–swimming under the water, flying over it, and paddling on the surface. Gratitude abounds within me as I acknowledge these signs of recovery.

Yet I know every place on the Gulf Coast is not so fortunate. Some areas are still experiencing heavy oiling in marshes. There are still large tar balls washing ashore and in the local Mobile newspaper, I read an article stating that local officials know there are large oil mats on the bottom just offshore of some major tourist beaches. They are trying to figure out how to remove the oil but are waiting until after ‘tourist season.’ In the meantime, if a hurricane comes ashore, who is to say what the outcome will be.


There is much work to be done on the Gulf Coast to return it to health and there is much to be thankful for. I believe we must remember the spill so we can use it as a reminder that renewal energy is an absolute MUST in our country, in our world. Also, we still have cleanup to do and much oil to remove that remains in the ecosystem. Finally, I believe the spill is an opportunity to recognize the value of such beautiful and amazing resources found along the Gulf Coast and in all of nature. This man-made disaster is a reminder that we must work diligently to protect nature, refrain from exploiting natural resources, and be good planetary stewards.

Today, I am grateful for dolphins, pelicans, fish and all life that slowly recovers from the toxins released last year. My friend Brandon also posted on gratitude today and so I join him in promoting awareness and gratitude for the amazing world in which we live.

On Being Mindful

On Being Mindful

As I walked down the driveway to begin my morning walk, I gazed into my garden seeing which friends had bloomed this morning. A rose, a delphinium, and the lavender is close to blooming. The day lilies…oh, wow! They are about to burst forth in their orange-yellow glory.

Once my feet made it to the main road, my heart sank. Someone had sprayed the bank in front of my home with herbicide. I looked across the street and up the street–no evidence of spray. It seems my neighbor’s gardener kept on going up the road when he sprayed their yard. At least it was isolated to one area on the roadway.

There is no grass in the rocks that line the roadway, just little plants that struggle to hold the soil. I felt sad because I value these important plants that anchor the soil in place. Frustration also arose because I do not broadcast spray poisons on my property.

So what’s the big deal? State highway departments spray millions of gallons of poison on roadways all across the country. Power companies also spray millions of gallons of toxic chemicals under power lines because it is cheaper than mowing or hand-clearing. But does that make it right?

My dislike for herbicides, pesticides, and insecticides goes beyond the obvious risk from using these chemicals (honey bees could teach us about the potential risks of chemical use). When my father was a farmer he was exposed to strong chemicals used on crops. He would come home and his clothes would be saturated with the toxins. Many years later he developed mysterious symptoms that worsened over the years. Doctors never figured out why he died in his early 40’s. By the time they did toxic-exposure blood work, all traces of the compounds had left his body. But the damage progressed.

I don’t know what my dad would say about the use of chemicals in our world. I believe he would caution us to read labels, spray sparingly and to refrain from using them if at all possible. My brother and I practice organic gardening because we saw what chemicals can do to a strong, healthy man’s body and life. Why do we think dumping millions of gallons of chemicals onto roadsides will not have consequences? Or the gallons we dump every year into our yards, our gardens? On to the food we eat.

I sent an email to my neighborhood asking people to be mindful of two things: 1) Chemical use has an inherent risk and we really do not know what continued use does to the environment and ultimately to us; 2) Everyone doesn’t use chemicals on their gardens. In fact, some of us want to work with the Earth and honor all plants and animals.

If the roadside in front of my home gets unruly, I trim it. If my garden has plants that I would rather not be there, I remove them by hand. I let insects have some of my rose blossoms to munch on. They always leave some for me to enjoy. Practicing organic gardening doesn’t make me better than people who use chemicals nor does it make me a better gardener. When I choose to work with plants and insects instead of just destroying them, I feel my relationship with the Earth grow stronger. Being aware of all life surrounding me helps me feel connected to nature, to the Earth. I grow in mindfulness as I take the time to understand how each and every plant, animal, insect and human has a place on the planet. There is value in every part of the living system we call Earth.

The Illusion of Separateness

The Illusion of Separateness

I don’t understand the self-destructive war between humans and the Earth. It’s a fight picked by humans who continue to act as the aggressor. For years I have contemplated this question and have come to what I believe to be the root problem: We believe we are separate from nature, from each other. If we believe we are not connected to others, to the planet, we will act with destructive intentions for our own, self-centered goals irregardless of anyone or anything else.

In my own struggle to reach a place of peace and balance regarding the Gulf Oil Spill, I have uncovered within myself anger and frustration at humanity–not just to the oil companies or our government, but to all of us as consumers and uninvolved citizens. As I have done the inner work, read books by Joanna Macy and others, and explored the spiritual side of this disaster, I am convinced that it is our collective belief in separateness that allows violence toward each other and the Earth to continue.

How can we heal this belief that keeps us isolated, removed from a deep sense of belonging to our planetary mother? Without a soul connection to the Earth and each other, we experience profound loneliness and emptiness. We hunger for connection and try to fill the inner void by consuming more and more, thereby creating more destruction from our excessive demand for ‘goods.’ The vicious cycle will continue until individually and collectively we recognize and honor the interconnectedness we have with all life.

During one of my recent meditations I heard a question: Can you have compassion for the men that made decisions to continue drilling when the Deepwater Horizon Rig was malfunctioning? I pictured the corporate executives in a board room and I saw myself walking into the room. I breathed deeply and allowed my anger to dissipate. I saw them as my brothers, as part of the human family to which we all belong. I imagined animals from the Gulf in the room, not as judges but as part of our extended family. I recognized that only in seeing the connections we all have, can we begin to make a difference.

There’s no magic pill that will erase centuries of destruction nor is there a wand we can wave to erase our anger and frustration at the ongoing assault on the planet. Yet as more people recognize the interconnectedness of all life, our world can evolve and become a place that honors and respects all life. It begins within each of us and it takes daily practice.

Ballet of the Sea Turtles

Ballet of the Sea Turtles

Our group of seven submerged into the Blue Hole. White sand on the bottom illuminated the massive, silver tarpon hanging along the wall. I counted almost fifty. Then I looked to the center of the hole and there were at least fifty more of the big fish lazily watching as we quietly moved along the reef.

We spent about 20 minutes playing in this beautiful spot then the dive master had us line up shoulder-to-shoulder and ascend to the top of the reef where the strong surge made forward movement impossible when it pushed against us. We quickly got into the rhythm of the ocean as waves pushed across thousands of sea fans and beautiful soft corals. It doesn’t take too many attempts at trying to kick against such strong surge to realize that to pause is to gain greatly. When the surge lessened and then pulled back, we could literally fly forward across the reef. I looked across my right shoulder at one point and noticed that all of us were kicking in perfect unison. I thought we looked like synchronized dancers flying over a living dance floor.

As I breathed and kicked, breathed and paused, I felt perfectly in sync with the Ocean. My body and mind was ‘forced’ to conform to the rhythm of the waves, of Her movement. There was a feeling of total at-one-ness with the massive Ocean. So in tune with Her, so truly in Love with the Ocean was I, that contentment and peace was experienced on a visceral level.

Back and forth, push and pull, to and fro the Ocean moved me. To my core, the very center of who I am She rocked and reminded me that She is my Mother. She is that from which all life on Earth comes.

As we floated and kicked above the sea fans, sea turtles began to rise among us. They slowly rose up from their hiding places, looked around at the diver ballet, and then effortlessly continued to the surface to breathe. From every direction these gentle beings appeared, swam within our troop, and then did their own dance into the blue. Sometimes there were three or four sea turtles swimming around us at once.

Fifty-one minutes can change a person’s outlook. Dancing with sea turtles in blue water during that 51 minutes can forever alter a person’s life.

Finding Center

Finding Center

I just spent a week unplugged from the internet, email, Facebook, my iPhone, TV, and radio. On my recent dive trip to Bonaire I made a conscious decision to let go of my electronic connection to the world in order to facilitate a deeper connection to the Earth. What a lesson this provided…and a healing.

My first couple of days found me unable to connect with the beauty, the amazing life found on this beautiful desert island and under the saltwater surrounding it. It felt like a part of me was missing-in-action. The intensity of the past year of documenting the oil spill and recovery at the Gulf Coast had created so much grief and anger within me…about how humans treat the planet, how we are greedy, and put money ahead of almost everything. Swimming in the sea of dark emotions was blocking me from diving into the bliss of the ocean.

After my first dive, I sat on the patio in silence with a feline friend that adopted me. She curled up in the chair next to me and closed her eyes. I followed her lead and dove into the silence within myself. As I sat in stillness–breathing in, breathing out–I started to come home to my own skin. I found my center. And it was good.

Who will act as the shaman that helps retrieve a lost piece of the soul?

The next day I revisited a dive site that has special meaning for me. A few years ago, in the silence of the blue, I had a very life-changing experience there that I wrote about in Sharks On My Fin Tips.

“Lost in my blue-water reverie, I let my mind flow in sync with the movement of the water….Everywhere I looked life was evident…As I moved, I absentmindedly started to hum a tune….It seemed to come from my heart…..The more I droned, the stronger the emotion became until I felt a constriction in my throat. The sensation was so strong I had to stop humming and take a deep breath. When I halted I heard an answering refrain from somewhere outside myself. Without hesitation I knew it to be the song of the Ocean. The consciousness of the Mother Ocean was reaching out to me, tapping my heart with Her liquid fingers. It was Her song I had been singing….I hung motionless in the water column, overcome with the sweetest love I had ever felt.” (pages 142 & 143 condensed).

Even after four years, the memory of my experience was strong as I floated in bliss, surrounded by saltwater, surrounded by love.

Later that day I visited the south end of the island. The power of the surf was strong. I stood on sharp rocks breathing in the beauty, the strength of the Ocean. Once again, I felt Her reach out with saltwater fingers and touch me. In that moment I felt as if I truly came home to myself. I raised my arms and accepted Her gift. Rock me in your loving arms Great Mother. Thank you.

So the week continued, with each day bringing new experiences that provided a pathway to my center. Tomorrow I will write about the sea turtle ballet I participated in, but now it is time to unplug.