Tag: sustainable economy

Blue Dawn

Blue Dawn

By |

Today’s sea turtle nest patrol didn’t yield a new nest or crawls but it yielded over 100 pounds of trash in a mile and a half stretch of beach. My regular patrol volunteer buddy couldn’t walk today so I walked by myself. I arrived at the beach before 5am and took time exposure photographs of the Gulf. The water looks magically calm and surreal in the images but in reality it was quite rough.The high seas add to the regular beach trash by dumping all manner of junk along the shoreline.

When I got to my turnaround point I saw another volunteer and she had ‘mistakenly’ walked the beach looking for nests. I was busily picking up trash, as I made the return trip, with a bag I had secured from the kind folks at Gulf State Park Pier. Lu and I filled the bag to the point where we had to empty it three times. A 30 minute walk to over 2.5 hours to do while picking up litter. Here’s a sample of what we found:

Plastic drink bottles, plastic water bottles, glass beer bottles, been cans, soda cans, two disposable diapers, a plastic tampon applicator, over 100 plastic bottle tops, plastic bins, plastic tubs, oil containers, balloons, kites, string, monofilament fishing line, fishing leaders, latex gloves, flip flops, broken sun glasses, cheap snorkeling masks, wool sock, countless kids plastic beach toys, plastic floats, candy wrappers, foil drink (Capri sun) plastic straws, styrofoam cups and plates and pieces, plastic cups, pieces of large plastic ‘things,’ large plastic water bottle (for a cooler), half an Otterbox brief case encased with all kinds of ocean life, food wrappers, foil, unidentifiable plastic things…..and on and on and on. There were also cigarette butts by the thousands that we didn’t pick up. The problem with EVERYTHING we picked up and the cigarette butts is that none of it degrades, decomposes…goes away. At least not for a VERY long time.

Here’s the time frame of decomposition for some of the trash we found:

Wool sock–1 to 5 years, cigarette butts–10-12 years, foamed plastic cups–50 years, plastic containers–50-80 years, aluminum can–200-500 years, plastic bottles–450 years, disposable diapers–550 years, monofilament fishing line–600 years, plastic bags–200-1000 years.

Take a minute and think about this….breathe it in and sit with it. (Pause).

Just yesterday I read an article on recycling cigarette butts. Did you know they are made of plastic? They don’t decompose as some may think. A cigarette tossed on the ground is there to stay for a LONG time.The filter is made of the same material as plastic bags. One company is making guitar picks and other happy things from cigarette butts instead of the butts being put into land fields or worse, ending up on the ground. Cigarette butts are the most common type of litter found.

Yesterday I read an article by a favorite reporter of mine, Dahr Jamail. Oceans of Pollution, is an important read for all concerned about the health of our planet. Jamail quotes a study that warns, “without profound and prompt changes in human behavior, we will cause a ‘mass extinction in the oceans with unknown ecological consequences.'” He also quotes Alanna Mitchell, “Every tear you cry…ends up back in the ocean system. Every third molecule of carbon dioxide you exhale is absorbed into the ocean. Every second breath you take comes from the oxygen produced by plankton.”

If our plankton dies in the ocean, we die. It’s as simple as that. The ocean produces the majority of oxygen we breathe…even if you happen to live in the center of a continent with no access to the ocean, the ocean is what gives you oxygen. As plastic gets more deeply rooted into our ocean food chain, we are seeing more ill effects and consequences from the toxins used to create it. We are quite literally killing our ocean and therefore, killing ourselves.

As Lu and I walked, several people came up and thanked us, one guy expressed his love of the planet, another young man expressed his frustration at how people can be in the presence of such beauty and completely miss it and trash it. A few people actually helped us along the way. Some hung their head in shame as we carried the heavy bag, filled with human-generated pollution and as I made eye contact, I saw their grief at what, collectively, we are doing to our planet.

It was no coincidence that two strong articles came across my desk yesterday and today I found myself surrounded and astounded by a mountain of trash in just a mile and a half of Gulf of Mexico beach. We no longer have the luxury of turning away when we see places like this. We must breathe deep and connect with our compassion for all life and do whatever we can to make a positive difference. We can no longer luxuriate in anger, frustration, hopelessness. Now is the time to be active stewards of our Ocean.

Standing Up to a Big Blow–Lesson in Life from My SUP Board

Standing Up to a Big Blow–Lesson in Life from My SUP Board

By |

Yesterday morning started with a visit to Gulf State Park before the sun peeked above the horizon. I arrived early for my first sea turtle volunteer patrol walk because I wanted to take a few photographs before meeting my walking partners. It was serene and lovely and the Gulf of Mexico was gently rolling like it sometimes does. No shore birds were out yet so the only sound I heard was the shuuusshing of sand and water and shells tumbling together.

I met my walking partners and we headed out for our walk to the Gulf Shores Public Beach. We immediately met a group of giggly young folks drinking beer and smoking….yes….before sunrise. We had been warned that we might see left-over partiers from the pre-Hangout Music Festival day. And it only got worse as we neared the music festival staging area. Never mind sea turtle crawls…we were busy dodging condoms floating in the tidal pools, beer cans, liquor bottles, articles of clothing, half-burned cigarettes…not the usual sight on these white sand beaches.

The once ‘public beach’ was fenced off so as to not allow the public inside. Or sea turtles that might not have received the press package about the festival and thus altered their egg-laying plans. We carefully watched for sea turtle tracks as we tiptoed through all manner of human nastiness. Almost two years ago I was tiptoeing through volatile crude oil on the beach but today I felt volatile. A few days earlier the City of Gulf Shores bulldozed sand dunes with sea oats growing on them to make way for this parade of the worst of humanity. If you or I had picked a sea oat on our own property we’d be ticketed. If we had bulldozed a dune full of sea oats we might be in jail. I guess it just depends on who you are and who you know and how much you pay the right people. I don’t know what to think after witnessing this and hearing loud diesel generators and buses running non-stop. Talk about your green festivals!

After completing the turtle nest patrol I walked in the opposite direction, into Gulf State Park. Shores mostly untouched by development called to me as I walked in the soft, cool sand. I reflected back to when I worked in the park as naturalist–over 30 years ago–and the frustration I felt by the encroaching development and the political demands placed on the resources within the park. I remembered something I wrote in my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips: “I left the Gulf Coast many years ago feeling hopeless in my efforts to help the land amid hungry developers yet on that day (a visit after Hurricane Ivan) I felt a renewed sense of commitment. I could use a tool that might truly make a difference–my words.” (p. 11).

Another quote from the book also haunted me as I walked back to my car, “Did I abandon this land when I left it many years ago? Had I left home, in the truest sense of the word?”

This morning I needed to be on salt water, away from the crowds and connected with the elements to ponder the questions that were raised within me yesterday. I am not a grouchy, un-musical person. I love music and play piano, guitar, flute, drums….it’s part of me. But profit at any cost? Had I left 21 years ago and returned to find that profit and money–greed–were still the determining factors along the coast? The dune is in the way….just bulldoze it. Never mind that it’s against the law! And fence off the public beach and don’t allow people to visit it unless they pay the $150+ to attend the festival. Does anyone else feel frustrated at this kind of behavior? These double-standards? This profit-at-any-cost mentality?

So…..I drove to Johnson Beach, part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore. After showing my annual pass and I.D. I drove to a boardwalk and couldn’t help noticing that both the Gulf and Sound were very much affected by the strong and steady ESE winds. Oops…so much for a calm, contemplative morning.

After unloading my board and gear, I walked to the Sound and was nearly knocked off my SUP board as soon as I stood up. The wind was really kicking. Rather than paddle against it with no warm-up, I decided to just do a downwind paddle and then deal with the paddle back after my body was ready for the assault of wind against woman.

The downwind run was screaming. I was flying and my thoughts were far from the anger and frustration of the previous day. Concentrating on staying balanced with a wicked back and cross-wind was my only focus. In 15 minutes I covered an amazing distance. How awesome that I’d get to paddle against that crazy blow to get back to my take-out point. Honestly, that’s not what I was thinking.

As soon as I came out of the calm canal I had drifted into and faced the wind, it caught my body and tried to push me back into the serene water. Who wouldn’t like that? But I really wanted to get back to my car. The breeze (ha…breeze) was so strong that I dropped to my knees. That helped but I was still making little progress. Finally, I sat back on my heels and finally my blade starting generating forward motion.

Being in this prayer position, I decided to say a prayer to gain understanding about the struggles I was having emotionally from yesterday’s experiences. I started thinking about the land and water and wildlife still being exploited for human greed. I felt weary of the entire human-dumb-ass behaviors which was exacerbated by the weariness I began to feel as I paddled into the wind. As I struggled to paddle, I thought how 30 years ago I struggled to make a difference along the coast. How I’d given up and let the ‘human wind of development’ push me away and relinquish my dream to help people appreciate and care for this beautiful place. It was relatively easy to just let go and forget the developers and others who always put wildlife and the Earth last–dead last. I let myself go into ecological numbness. I didn’t know how to deal with the grief about the planet so I just shut down.

But that oil spill…remember THAT oil spill? It’s what called me home.

It’s not easy standing up against strong forces that want to push over everything in their path to make a buck. It’s sometimes almost impossible to stand and fight greedy humans. So maybe I can alter my approach and drop lower and catch less ‘wind’ but still keep going, keep going forward. Or maybe I might have to crawl a while and make seemingly little progress like I did at Johnson Beach when I sat on the back of my board in shallow water and used my toes to crawl along the bottom as I rested my arms and shoulders. The key is to keep moving and keep working to spread the beauty of this place and speak up against those who truly do not care for anything but money and power. They will fall…eventually. Nature is more powerful. Ask Hurricane Ivan. Or Katrina. Humans have no power compared to the power of nature. Okay….I understand, I thought.

I got back to my take-out point and sat on my board for a long time contemplating life….watching the endangered Least Tern feeding just a few feet from my board, wondering if they knew they were endangered (no…of course not) and thinking how they go on regardless and continue to live and enjoy life. I watched families playing along the water’s edge and Great Blue Herons waiting for fishermen and women to reel in their breakfast. I realized, in those long, blissful moments spent bobbing up and down on my board, that I don’t have to stand up to power and money-hungry humans alone. Many of us feel the same way. We can proceed little by little to speak out, write, work…whatever we have to do…to save this amazing place from annihilation at the hands of those who fail to understand and appreciate the treasure it is…just for the beauty and life it contains. Not because it can generate a profit.

Stand Up 4 The Gulf…something you might find interesting and might like to help build!

The Psychosis of Christmas

The Psychosis of Christmas

By |

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.

—————–
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

By |

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

By |

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.