Tag: Gulf of Mexico

Finding Center

Finding Center

By |

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

By |

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

By |

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.

Beyond the Anger, Beyond the Outrage

Beyond the Anger, Beyond the Outrage

By |

Fog sat softly on the surface of the bay as I paddled from the shore. I wanted to clear my mind this morning, this day that marks the Deepwater Horizon explosion and spill. Wind blew from the south, pushing my boat along broken pilings, skeletal reminders of Hurricanes Ivan and Katrina, where gulls, cormorants, and pelicans perched.

As I glided through the choppy, brackish water of Mobile Bay, images of the past year replayed in my mind. Beaches ankle-deep in crude, oiled birds, cleanup workers, children frolicking in oil-slick Gulf water….all this and more flashed by like a horror movie. But amid these traumatic memories, I looked around. Pelicans dove for fish, mullet splashed ahead of my boat, great blue herons stood in the shallows along the shore nabbing their breakfast. Cormorants floated in the waves and dove for food. Schools of tiny fish popped the water. All this life, this beauty, was evident in the moment.

I remembered the articles and posts I’ve read on Facebook. Many areas are still covered in oil. Marshes and shores sickened by the black death of sweet crude from MC252 reek of death. It’s not all beautiful. But there are areas that are recovering. And so we, too, must begin our recovery process.

When I worked as a psychotherapist many years ago, some clients got trapped in a cycle of anger over traumatic events of their past. Granted, part of the healing process involves recognizing the anger. But to get stuck in it perpetuates the cycle of re-wounding and re-traumatizing. So…how do we move beyond this emotion to a place of healing?

Given the enormity of the Deepwater Horizon disaster and the corporate dysfunction that created it, how can we swim out of the collective whirlpool of outrage and put the energy that perpetuated the anger into building solutions….together.

A friend of mine wrote a book called Simple Truth. In it, Thom Rutledge describes our relationship with anger as being something that we can huff and become intoxicated by or we can use it to fuel us forward into creative solutions and health.

When we close our hearts in rage, we greatly diminish our capacity to love the places, animals and people we care about most in the world. So why do we hold so onto our anger? It might be a way we cling to the event so we do not forget. But know this, we can forever remember and honor this tradegy by the good we put out into the environment, by the ways we care for our planet and each other. And mostly, by allowing our hearts to guide us to building a healthier world. To do this we must move beyond the anger, move beyond the outrage but use it to fuel our efforts.

For Our Children

For Our Children

By |

One year ago today we all went about our daily routines, not realizing the largest oil spill in US history was about to occur. Kids along the Gulf Coast enjoyed days of swimming and fishing, experiencing the delight of bountiful beauty the many resources of this region offered.

Then disaster struck, killing eleven men and unleashing an unrelenting gusher of crude oil originating from a deepwater oil rig a mile beneath the surface of the Gulf of Mexico. The nation, the world was in shock as this catastrophe unfolded. Remember the images of heavily oiled pelicans? Of red-brown slicks that stretched for miles? Do you recall the visions of planes spraying millions of gallons of toxic dispersant chemicals onto the Gulf?

All of these images stick in my mind but the most disturbing images that haunt me from my visits to the Gulf Coast over the past year are those of children frolicking in crude oil washing up in waves on the beaches of Alabama. I will never understand the morals that allowed local politicos to keep the beaches open. I heard the mayor of Orange Beach, at a town hall meeting last summer, respond with the following statement when moms expressed concern over kids swimming in the Gulf: “There is no law against stupid.”

I understand the pressure these local mayors were under to keep condos full, restaurants open and filled with tourists, but at what cost? When will the lives of our children matter more than money?

As part of my ongoing documentation of the effects of the oil spill I am interviewing kids about their experience last summer and what they think, now that we are a year away from the beginning of the spill. Yesterday, in interviewing two girls who live on Weeks Bay, I heard their concern.

“I wanted to swim and fish but couldn’t because of the oil.” “I was scared…we couldn’t get in the water because we didn’t know what was under us.” “I was scared because the waves were bringing in dead fish.” “I was worried about the birds and crabs.”

Why should our children have these worries? As children, my brother, cousins and I played on the pier at Weeks Bay and swam and crabbed. Our only concern was the icky, squishy mud on the bottom that kept our feet moving in the water column. Or as my cousin said, “My only concern was getting stung by jellyfish.” My heart ached for all children that are living with the environmental rape we, as adults, continue to allow. What is peace of mind for children worth? Why are we so unconcerned about these young ones that will inherit our messes?

Does this little boy realize that the sand he is digging in continues to be covered in tar balls that wash in with each tide? Is he aware that when the waves are high, air-born oily mist coats the sand in which he plays?

How much damage are we willing to inflict on our children–their mental, physical, and emotional health? Why is it okay to make their world a place where quality of life is no longer something they can depend on?