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The Illusion of Separateness

The Illusion of Separateness

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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

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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

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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.

Everyday People Making a Difference

Everyday People Making a Difference

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When Bon Secour diesel mechanic John Sherman heard of the oil spill last spring, he began wondering what he could do to help. He had lived around the water and worked on boats for most of his life and knew what was at stake with such a devastating disaster. He told his wife Linda, “I can help clean up this oil.”

So an idea began to form in John’s mind and the result was a skimmer that can work in shallow water and worked so well the US Coast Guard, Department of Defense and even BP got excited. John and Linda applied for a patent and negotiated with a corporation that was set to purchase several and mass produce them to use in spills all over the country. Then before the Deepwater Horizon was capped, BP pulled the plug on all skimming operations and cancelled the order.

But it hasn’t stopped John and Linda. They believe their skimmer can be used in small marinas, along shorelines where boat traffic is heavy, and in any inshore, shallow water where everyday fuel and oil spills occur. And that is often, according to statistics on oil spills. Their vision is for the skimmers to be used as a method to improve and maintain water quality.

Leo Denton, a resident of Dauphin Island, Alabama, is working to bring the environmental and eco-spiritual aspect of the spill to the forefront. His passion and love of the water and land around south Mobile county and his desire to bring people together in community is an effort he is putting forth to heal the spiritual wound created by the spill and to educate others on the healing process of the environment.

Lori Bosarge, in Coden, Alabama, is working to help others in the commercial seafood industry. She is networking with others to raise awareness of illnesses beginning to increase due to crude oil and dispersant. From personal experiences related to toxic exposure, she is reaching out to others.

While kayaking between Dauphin Island and Little Dauphin Island today, I thought about the many individuals who are working to bring awareness to the needs of the communities along the Gulf Coast, including the community of wildlife and marine life who are deeply loved here. Independent scientists, diesel mechanics, artists, university instructors, photographers, chiropractors, teachers, writers, salon owners, print shop owners, marketing strategists….the list really is endless. And even readers of this blog, by reposting and sharing it, are working to bring light to the plight of the Gulf Coast.

As we share information and learn to work cooperatively, we really can make a difference. We can change the destructive path we’ve been on and create a better way. This happens with everyday people that choose to reach out, stand up and share from their heart.

To Eat or Not to Eat

To Eat or Not to Eat

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Today Brandon Sutton and I visited Bon Secour, Alabama where the fisheries industry has taken a huge blow from something other than a hurricane. The oil spill has crippled many businesses but possibly none continue to suffer so much as commercial fishermen and women.

Two of the three retail seafood outlets we visited had customers. The shrimp in Aquilla Seafood were so beautiful it was difficult to think of them as being tainted with anything. And the flounder at Billy’s looked great. How could anything so perfect-looking be anything but delicious. And that’s the dilemma many people face as they try to decide whether to buy Gulf seafood.

Our third stop was a random visit brought about by the sign, “Joe the Shrimp Man” seen on a county road as we were driving to the Gulf. I turned around and drove down a curvy road until it dead-ended into Joe’s small shop. His wife Cheryl greeted us. We asked her how business was going for them and she told us Joe was down the road working on his boat and might be willing to talk with us.

We drove back to the dock where the Miss Ashlee was being rigged for shrimping tonight. Joe shared the story that we’ve heard from so many commercial fishermen about no demand for Gulf Coast seafood and the trials that many of the shrimpers, oystermen, crabbers and gill netters have faced since the Deepwater Horizon exploded.

As I listened to his story, I felt torn about eating seafood. I have personally witnessed horrific petroleum pollution during the past year and have watched marine life struggle, so eating seafood was never really an option. But today, after looking at shrimp, oysters and fish at these retails outlets and after hearing Joe’s story, I felt torn. I want so badly to support these men and women by becoming a consumer once again. But what I’ve seen in the Gulf…what about that? Even with the smell tests done by safety checks on seafood….how can I be sure? How can anyone be sure that the seafood is safe?

I see the livelihood of families evaporating. Minh Le shared, in our visit to Coden, Alabama yesterday, that fishermen and others who work in the seafood industry are struggling to put food on their table. There is so much suffering, so much pain to endure for many who live on the Gulf Coast. How can we make reasonable decisions regarding purchasing seafood from the Gulf?

After an hour and a half visit with Joe and his crew, we got back in the car, eager to eat a late lunch. I looked at Brandon and said, “I know this is crazy, but I want fried shrimp.” He was in agreement so we back-tracked to a seafood restaurant where we enjoyed local shrimp, lima beans with andouille sausage and collards.

Because of what I’ve witnessed, I can’t eat seafood regularly. But the inner conflict within me is great.