Terry Tempest Williams Archives -

Soul Cycling

By Simone Lipscomb | July 12, 2016

At 5.15am it was still dark outside but it was also cooler with lower humidity than we’ve had lately so the little LED light on the handlebar would have to do. My tactical, super-charged headlamp I usually wear on my helmet was missing in action.

It’s not that I was afraid of the dark. I just didn’t want to run over any snakes that might be warming their beautiful, slithery bodies on the paved trail.

I hadn’t been pedaling for more than a few minutes when a large shape swooped over my head…then another. Large birds but not owls. Perhaps a pair of nighthawks but there was no eerie vocalization. Just two large shapes disturbed by my passing. Sorry to wake you.

During the past couple of weeks after returning from the dolphin adventure I had not cycled. First, a nasty blister on my foot from a fin rubbing…even while wearing my super-cool scuba socks…kept me out of shoes. So no cleats. Then it was hot and so humid in the mornings I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. But I missed the woods, the trails…the wildlife.

Terry Tempest Williams said, “My spiritual life is found in the heart of the wild.” In The Hour of Land she writes of her personal journey with some of our national parks. Her writing resonates with my own journey in nature and especially the state park in which I ride.

During summer breaks from high school and college I worked at Gulf State Park. After earning a degree in Outdoor Recreation and Resource Management, I returned to work there as a state park naturalist.

The 6000 acres of nature are especially important in our area as they contain some of the last undeveloped coastal forests and beaches in the area. But politicians continue to chip away at what’s left of its wildness.

When I cycle there my soul is given opportunity to relax and connect with friends there…bobcats, pine trees, water snakes, alligators, live oak trees, gopher tortoises, egrets, eagles, hawks, osprey, cottontail rabbits, wild hibiscus, morning glories….a seemingly endless gathering of friends.

As I was riding through a pine forest there this morning I thought about how the trees take root, deep into the sandy soil and remain there throughout their lives. I found myself uncomfortable with the idea of being that grounded, that rooted into one place. But then I had an image of the trees being connected to each other and communicating with other pine trees all over the planet.

Not long ago I read an article about how trees not only communicate but send extra nutrients to those in their area that are not well. This was a scientific study, not a new age article. Trees cooperate with each other and send information back and forth, at least in their own forest. I got the impression this morning they ‘chat’ more long distance than we can imagine.

Each time I ride there some aspect of nature teaches me, gives me ideas to ponder. The physical exercise is great; however, it’s the spiritual expansion that keeps me returning even with summer weather that brings humidity, warmer temperatures and potential thunderstorms. Soul cycling is a necessary part of my spiritual practice. I find my truest self in the wilds of this amazing planet.

Finding Our Voice

By Simone Lipscomb | September 18, 2013

In her book, When Women Were Birds, Terry Tempest Williams writes about what it means to pair voice with inner truth. She shares two examples that reminds us to keep speaking our truth, even when people refuse to hear it.

She was at a public hearing speaking up for Utah wilderness lands that were being put on the chopping block by politicos. As she stood to speak Congressman Jim Hansen began coughing, yawning, shuffling papers and in general trying to distract her and show he wasn’t listening. She stopped speaking and asked him if there was anything she could say that might change his negative perspective on wilderness. His reply? “I’m sorry, Ms. Williams, there is something about your voice I cannot hear.”

It wasn’t the microphone he was referring to; it was a metaphor of the politicians, elected to hear comments from citizens– more than 70% of whom wanted more wilderness, not less–to show their displeasure in having to listen. Their mind was already made up without consulting the will of the people.

In another instance Senator Larry Craig stood up during the conservation delegation’s testimony and said, “This one is your Senator Hatfield,” and walked out of the hearing. Senator Hatfield then read a book during the entire testimony before Congress.

The result of the senator’s behavior fueled the determination of those speaking on behalf of wilderness. They hurriedly got writers and poets to submit a piece of their work on wilderness, had a graphic designer work for free to design a book and produced Testimony, which was eventually read aloud by various senators during a filibuster about the wilderness areas that were proposed to be sold. The vote that was eventually taken upheld the law that set them aside. The vote favored the protected the wilderness areas.

About a year ago I signed up for a one hour telephone call where I could listen to a live interview with Terry. I greatly respect her writing and work as a voice for all things wild and was excited to be able to hear the conversation. I called a couple minutes early and listened to silence and then a voice came on the line, “Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?”

I didn’t say anything. Not wanting to connect with anyone really because I didn’t know what to say, I remained silent. The voice would occasionally say, “Is anybody there?” This went on for over five minutes as we waited for the interview to begin. Finally another voice came on line, the moderator. She began talking…talking to Terry who was the one asking if anyone was there. I could have been having a meaningful conversation with a woman I greatly respect and I chose to remain silent. Several minutes of valuable time with a mentor was lost.

It was a valuable lesson. I could have asked her about her work. How do you stay inspired when facing such apathy? Where do you find the will to keep working when the message goes unheard? I could have learned from this woman of power. Instead, I chose silence.

Is there something that needs your voice? A mountain? A river? Sea turtles? Manatees? Black-foot ferrets? Your heart?

Speaking our truth has never been more important. Bringing light to our planet, our communities, our homes is a practice that must be cultivated to help shift us from the darkness that we see and experience around us.

With compassion and love and gentleness let us speak from our hearts and together create something truly beautiful. It’s time to use our collective voice.