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Gratitude for a Sense of Place

Gratitude for a Sense of Place

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It took me a while to make the decision to leave the Blue Ridge Mountains but when I did my compass pointed south, or specifically– southwest. The live oak trees draped with Spanish moss whisper my name as the wind rattles their waxy, hard leaves against each other. The smell of coastal Alabama soil, that sandy loam, lies waiting for me to come home, to walk barefoot and connected with its magnificence.

In the past 18 months I made over ten trips to my home to document the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico and with each trip, it was more difficult to leave. I felt my work was just scratching the surface, that there is so much more I could do, that I wanted the Gulf of Mexico to raise up through me to protect Herself. All of these reasons resound in my mind but more important than anything is an intense desire, a burning within my soul, to be home. I can’t really explain it, although my mind has tried to make sense of it. It feels like my bones responding to a homing signal. Maybe I’m experiencing the same pull that monarch butterflies feel or migratory birds. It’s like an internal signal has been activated and I’m ready to go.

Meanwhile, amid this magnetic pull back to the Alabama Gulf Coast, I have my home for sale and am dealing with flaky buyers who change their minds like they were changing their dinner order. Dealing with the ups and downs of selling my beautiful home is wearing on me. But my vision is still crystal clear; I won’t allow insensitive buyers to detract me from my intention.

I love the land here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The nearby Smoky Mountains are a true spiritual home for me and have been since I was a child. Living here has been healing and restorative and has boosted my creativity and connected me with incredible people. All to prepare me to return back to my home and apply everything I’ve learned here to help an area that was heavily damaged with the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. And no matter what the slick BP advertisements and tourist boards say, there is still substantial problems in areas along the coast and a looming unknown regarding wildlife and Gulf health. I want to be there to do whatever I can to help this place recover.

And still….still…beyond the reasons I think I’m headed home, I really don’t know what I will be doing help the communities or wildlife. And that doesn’t matter really because I’m taking the first step and that is to be willing to sell my mountain home and move back to the place where I was born in total trust that I will be shown what to do when I am there. I am willing to take this leap.

When I was walking this morning in the frosty, mountain air I realized that the biggest surprise of everything going on in my life now is this intense love I have for the Gulf of Mexico, the shores, bays, rivers and people. My bones resonate with the tides there and for this deep sense of place, I am truly grateful. I never realized how powerful the love of a place could be and how being totally committed to helping protect it can change the course of a life.

Excerpt from my book Sharks On My Fin Tips: A Wild Woman’s Adventures with Nature–“Like many coastal species that begin life in the brown waters of Weeks Bay, I began my life on the shores of this tiny estuary. I grew up amid herons, egrets, baby crabs, shrimp and mullet with the dark-brown mud squishing between my young toes. The smell of salt marsh filled my being and was imprinted on my soul only hours after I breathed my first breath….And like the creatures birthed in the bay, I too moved away from its tranquil shores yet I will always feel the pulsation of saltwater in my blood like a magnet, drawing me home.”

Where do you find a sense of place? What place calls to your bones?

The Psychosis of Christmas

The Psychosis of Christmas

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This piece was written four years ago but it seems to fit perfectly again this year. With no editing, I present the following commentary.

I stopped dead in the aisle, overcome with three different Christmas songs playing at once along with the noise of an air compressor rattling twelve-foot high shelves. The compressor was keeping giant inflatable globes pumped up but it was creating a background noise that did not quite cover up the tinny tunes blaring from various outdoor speakers or the overhead Muzak speakers spreading Christmas music. I had to stop walking my cart down the aisles of tacky decorations and breathe. I muttered out loud, ‘What am I doing here?’

Almost immediately my inner muse giggled and I understood. I was doing research for an article on greed that had been on my mind for a couple of weeks. The only logical, reasonable explanation for me being in the gigantic store was research. Certainly I would not, in my right mind, enter into such a madhouse the weekend before Thanksgiving.

I wandered on, through a fog of fake Christmas snow, to find two cheap boxes of Christmas ornaments with which to finish my hodge-podge of a tree. I thought of my tree. Many of my ornaments are hand-made by my daughter and me or they are old and carry some sentimental value. My tree is not the most beautiful tree from the standpoint of outer beauty, but it does have a lot of heart and a lot of Christmas-past memories that drape its branches. I wanted a few sparkles to make it glow. Thinking of the hand-made ornaments on the tree made me remember a Christmas years ago.

When my daughter was in first grade we went on our yearly excursion to the tree farm. That year I found I could not kill a tree. Armed with a saw, we wandered through rows and rows of beautiful trees but I could not bring myself to kill one. So we purchased our first artificial tree. I have had some version of a fake tree for the past fifteen years. A lot of love has gone into the artificial trees and I rest well knowing one more tree each year is out there breathing for us. Thus far I’ve saved fifteen trees.

I really love Christmas, even with the retail hoop-la. Two of my friends and I admit we listen to Christmas music long before Thanksgiving arrives. It is inspiring and hopeful and it brings back such good childhood memories. I almost felt guilty for putting my tree up before Thanksgiving but my family is visiting and I decided to bring in the Christmas spirit a little early.

Last week I unpacked the tree, put it together and decorated it. When I plugged it in I opened my arms wide and invited the Spirit of Christmas to fill my home while Christmas carols filled the room. That was before my trip to Christmas hell.

A bump to my buggy brought me back to the moment. I stood in the aisle with huge, fluffy angels and glittery stars trying to find a topper for the tree. ‘What is with this craziness?’ I wondered. Then I thought back to a news report I had heard weeks ago stating that retailers were fearful of the slow economy causing people to purchase less. In an effort to have a profitable season they moved their target date for holiday marketing up several weeks to lessen the possibility of a less profitable season. Goodness knows we all need a few more ipods or x-boxes or our lives would just suck, wouldn’t they?

Now I’m not being a scrooge but I have to wonder when enough profit is enough or when enough stuff is enough. Does anybody know?

I have a theory and it has to do with the greed of our particular little country, the good old USA. This is my theory. We are such a consumer-machine that the downfall of our country will not be through violence or disease. Our downfall will be a direct result of our greed. And China has already figured it out. All they have to do is poison the little toys that EVERYone has to have for their kids and before you know it, we’re being killed by our own greed. There’s something to be said for population control but wouldn’t be better if it was by some intelligent planning rather than our own avarice?

Before I continue I must point out that I have toys. I also have a nice home and fun vehicles to drive. I’m not trying to exclude myself from my own commentary. On the contrary, I’m asking all of us to take a moment and step away from the ‘wish list’ and ponder the idea that we could all get by on a lot less and most likely wouldn’t suffer in the process. Are we willing to turn ourselves into slaves to a retail god?

Maybe you don’t like my conspiracy theory but you have to admit it is kind of funny. Or maybe it’s really sad.

How do we invoke the Spirit of Christmas without buying in (pun intended) to the Christmas psychosis that has hypnotized our country? How can we take the values of love and giving and leave the retail circus behind? Is it possible to summon the beauty of the holiday season without the parade of plastic Santa’s?

I continued my research in the store, observing other people and looking at the over-priced LED tree-topper stars that claimed to blink as bright as Bethlehem. I just wanted something meaningful to top my tree. I pushed the squeaky buggy, weaving in and out of aisles of people that looked as confused as I felt. Finally I found a tasteful black bear with a wreath around his neck. YES! That would be perfect since I live in the mountains and have bears frequent my yard. I picked it up and read the price tag: $3.99. YES! That’s great. But wait a minute. Where was it made? Made in China. Never mind.

I walked away without the bear. My only purchase was two boxes of ornaments for the price of one and a half boxes. I got out of the store for less than ten dollars. But to exit I had to run the gauntlet of two extremely long aisles of candy, just what everyone needs after the stress of a psychotic Christmas experience.

Can we bring the beauty of the holiday season into our homes, into our hearts without the stress of having the prettiest tree, the loudest outdoor speakers blaring Santa tunes and without going into debt to buy presents that will be forgotten within two weeks? I’m going to try. This year my goal is to keep my heart open and invoke the spirit of love into my home and life. I believe it’s possible to focus on light and love rather than surcome to retail hypnosis.

In Star Trek: The Next Generation there is a race of human-machines. They are humans that are slowly turned into machines. The Borg, as they are called, has a saying: “Resistance is futile, prepare to be assimilated. We are the Borg.” Let’s don’t become assimilated into the greed machine. We have choice.

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Update 2011–I’m not putting up a Christmas tree this year. Many changes are happening in my life and I find myself preparing to move and showing my home to potential buyers. So this year, I’ll have to let my ornaments rest. Hopefully I’ll be relocated to Coastal Alabama next year. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy wonderful memories of family visiting the mountain last year. Isn’t that what the Season of Light is really about?

Let’s see if our accelerated consumerism can take a back seat. On my list this year? To love each other and the planet a little bit more. What’s on your Christmas or Hannukah or holiday list this year?

Evolution of Humanity

Evolution of Humanity

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I sat in silence holding love and appreciation for this magnificent planet in my mind and heart. Images came and went–animals, people, bodies of water, forests, sky. There was only peace and interconnection.

Let this day be a marker for us to rise above our selfish concerns and elevate our thoughts to what is good for the whole. No longer worried about ‘making a name for ourselves’ or receiving recognition for who we are or what we do, may we drop all striving for me, me, me and open our hearts for the good of the whole, for the good of this beautiful water planet.

As Osho writes, May the veil of illusion burn away as the sense of groping in darkness dissolves. May we be witness to the process of humanity evolving into the beings we can be. Let all thoughts of separation drop away and may we let go the poison fed to our minds. May our entire lives become flames of awareness.

Change Agents

Change Agents

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On September 23rd I was in a small jet flying to Atlanta from Asheville. We flew over Lake Julian and the coal-fired power plant. Horrendous, black piles of death lay below. Earth raped as a commodity. I was glad to be headed for Rowe, Massachusetts where I would be spending a week with Joanna Macy and many other activists and lovers of our planet.

The first night, 68 of us met with Joanna. We listened as this wise woman shared about the history of humanity’s relationship with Earth. Most humans have used Earth as a supply house and a sewer. Finally, many are beginning to see the Earth as alive, as living. After she shared this and more, each of us stated our name and something of Earth we would protect. After feeling so isolated and alone documenting the Gulf Oil Spill, it was balm to my soul to witness so many people standing up to protect a place, animal, plant…body of water, mountain, meadow.

I left that first night’s gathering feeling the sweetness and power of people uniting for the common good. And with this happy feeling I had to negotiate walking on a small, wooded roadway at night with no light. I had to use my spider-sense, my bear and cougar sense–my wild woman sense that is connected with the wet, deep darkness and rich, loamy Earth. The part of me that sees without eyes and knows from the sound of gravel or grass underfoot where I am. I later wrote, “Amidst the inky blackness, rich and deep, silver drops from dark green leaves splatter and fall to the ground. I walk between two worlds, caught in the middle between lies and truth. May I stand with an open heart and bear witness.”

There was so much I learned and experienced that week at Rowe Camp and Conference Center and there are many nuggets of wisdom that will be with me as my work at the Gulf continues. However, one particular concept stands out. John Seed, an activist who worked to protect trees in the forests of Australia, had the idea that when we stand up to protect something on Earth, it’s really that place or thing protecting itself through us. In example, “I am not Simone protecting the Gulf of Mexico, I am the Gulf of Mexico protecting itself through this piece of humanity.”

And so to all those working on the Gulf, we are united in our efforts by the Gulf of Mexico. And for all environmental efforts, it is the same. Reframing activism, in this way, shifted my thinking and helped me feel the whole of all involved in working to protect and heal our planet.

Whatever you love about Earth and are willing to stand up for, say it out loud in the context written above by John Seed. What do you notice?

Some ideas shared by Joanna: Healing the planet comes from seeing the relationships and interrelationships. Action is something I am! (Not something I do). Don’t wait for the blueprint or plan as an activist. You cannot predict the synergy that occurs when you take steps and risks. Have the courage to move out with ideas. Power is an organic outcome of synergy. Evolutionary forces are wanting to work through us.

After lunch one day I climbed a steep trail and sat on a rock at the top of a mountain and heard this: “When you are called to witness a devastation to Earth, you serve as one of a council who then reports to the whole. Tell the truth of what you see. See with your heart.” And so my work continues whether I’m reading articles on the Gulf Oil Spill and passing them on to others or on the beaches documenting the huge chunks of tar washing up or speaking with school kids.

Many times I have struggled with my reason for doing the work at the Gulf and have asked myself questions like: “Is anybody really paying attention?” “All this time and energy here and is it making a difference?” Joanna reminded us to release the need for our work to make a difference or reach people or be successful. The most important thing to do is to keep doing the work, allowing the creativity to continue to move through us. The key is simply to keep doing it.

“We are so much more than we see right now. The powers that brought us here are so powerful we cannot even imagine.” Joanna reminded us that we have help and we’re not alone. What an important message for all who are working as change agents for Earth.

What are you willing to stand up and protect?

To learn more about my work, please visit my website Turtle Island Adventures.

Moving from Apathy to Action

Moving from Apathy to Action

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As I was enjoying a quiet breakfast I picked up my latest copy of Dive Training magazine and started reading a story about marine species that are headed for extinction and how they got that way. Not light reading, especially while attempting digestion.

It’s much easier to set aside articles such as this and watch squirrels frolic on the deck or watch my ginger cat friend play. However, when the Deepwater Horizon exploded I knew I could no longer be an armchair activist and so for the last year and a half I have forced myself to pay attention to articles and other information that helps me understand what is happening on our water planet and why.

Meet the Goliath grouper. This amazing fish can reach 800 pounds and grow to eight feet in length. They were found along Atlantic and Gulf coasts of Florida, the Caribbean and down the coast of Brazil. Their population decreased 80% in ten years. Two reasons are cited for their decline. First, channelization of the Everglades. Baby Goliath’s live in mangroves and when channels are created to drain the swamps and wetlands, the home for juveniles disappear. The second reason has to do with reproduction habits. During their annual spawning more than 100 would gather in key places. Since they are so big they were easy to see and catch. Dive Training writes that over one quarter of their spawning sites have been fished out and many have fewer than 10 fish left to gather.

When I read this my bowl of yogurt, cashews and apples almost became a projectile. I am so angry and saddened by continued reports of countless issues where humans take and take and take resources and repayment comes in the form of toxic wastes and by-products of a consumer-based society where human selfishness is elevated to new heights on a daily basis it seems. I took a few breaths and continued reading. Thanks to wildlife biologists and laws, change is occurring. Some aggregations have doubled in size. Recovery will be slow but it is beginning.

There are humans that give back and have love and compassion for our planet and all of it’s inhabitants.

I have had amazing underwater experiences as a diver and one was with a Goliath grouper I met in Key Largo, Florida. Here’s what I wrote about him in my photography book, Place of Spirit. “Goliath in size, the grouper is strangely engaging. He approaches me, flares his gills, and rattles his gill plates. I am not certain if it is a sign of affection or a prelude to aggression. His spirit and energy match his physical size and dwarf me in comparison. His small, beady eyes intimidate me as I swim to another part of the wreck. How could this reef-dweller find me worth of investigation? When his attention turns to another diver, there is no sorrow for I feel exposed, as if he sees beyond my mask to a place where spirit dwells. Even with my discomfort, I am grateful this deacon of the deep makes contact.”

Part of my personal commitment to taking action is to educate and immerse myself in saltwater environments to learn and commune with these sacred places and the animals that live there. And then to share what I learn with others in order to stir people to appreciate and love our natural world. If love and respect for the planet can be cultivated within humanity, we can make a positive difference.

What are you willing to do to help create love, appreciation and respect for Earth and all beings that live here?

To order my book, Place of Spirit, or other books I have written, please visit my website Turtle Island Adventures.