Covid-19 Dreams

Humans from around the planet are in their second month of quarantine. Many parts of the world are subjected to near constant stress and adrenaline flow, with nowhere to "run". Half of our fight or flight options have been removed because, where would we run if we could? The entire world is on lock down. Stories of people in resort towns asking their summer resident tourist populations to stay home, because they do not have the hospital facilities to deal with sick people who might bring the contagion to their bucolic communities are just part of the crisis. Small towns are often stuck between fear of visitors (foreign to their lands) and the need for their money, especially in resort areas, but they always value their health and safety and tend to err on the side of those things over cash. We hear of locals fearing anyone Chinese in towns, villages and cities around the nation. Vandals feel the need to attack the property of many who have lived among them peacefully for decades. Here in the Western Great Lakes Region, in my town, there is only one Asian restaurant open, for take out only. The seem to be following strict protocols for maintaining public health and safety. It is one of twenty or so that were in business before the Covid-19 pandemic. The next closest place to get Asian food during the pandemic is in a city with slightly better educated, slightly more wealthy and slightly more conservative people on average, a town forty minutes away. Reports of open hostility and racist attacks toward and against people who "look Asian" have become common in the Trumpworld that America has turned into. However, it seems, some people are waking up to the fact that his lies only lead to dissolution and death.

I do not want to belabor the waking lives of racist attackers, their overt ignorance or the stupid knuckleheads that cultivate their misunderstanding, lies and hate, that is for other posts.

They fear us because we have no fear

I had a dream...
Last night, Earthday night, which I have celebrated for fifty years as the highest of holidays, right up there with Mayday and Sowen. I dreamed of a social event where people gathered to watch the screening of an inspirational movie about ways we can help the planet to heal. It was not a high budget fluff piece made by a Pollyanna Director and big money corporate backers to placate people into a more submissive attitude, but a true guide to living more lightly on the Earth. There was no dismal sub-plot based on conceited derision or callous and jaded cynicism, no. The movie was an artfully expressed field guide to exemplary behaviors that transform culture as well as honor community. It was about making decisions that respect humans as well as the planet, exploring how much enough really is and helping to re-define investment and profitability in new ways that are sustainable rather than chic and faddish.

The movie was being shown in a large room, the capacity of which may have been several hundred. Typically when I have gone to events like this, IRL (In Real Life) a smattering of people come and they sit in knots of perhaps a half dozen in each. A concentration of perhaps two dozen individuals move to the "best seats", ten to twenty rows back, near the center and a few couples or single people sit apart from the groups as well, most of them along the aisles, in preparation for beating a hasty retreat when the showing has finished or so they can leave if the information portrayed is too horrifying. Fifty years on, the environmental movement has been whittled down to the precious few who deeply honor the healing properties of unmolested nature, those who are committed to environmental awareness, ecological sanity, human rights to a cleaner world and environmental justice. In the dream, it was pouring rain outside and when I arrived, it was early so I staked out a place where I would be out of the way, able to maintain social distance and where I could bail out if the "crowd" got too "close".

As the theater filled up, I noticed everyone trying to maintain about ten feet between each of them but for a few couples who I assumed were sheltering in place together and I took heart in the fact that not only had a reasonable number of people come out, but that they were maintaining at least their attempt to keep the space safe for everyone. Even with these spacial relationships, there were several times during the film that I felt compelled to get out of the space. I would quietly get up and move to the door, exiting and breathing deeply in the warm, moist, night air. I could feel the stress of being near so many people, perhaps as few as fifty in a space designed for several hundred. Breaking the plane of the doorway felt like renewal and relief, even though what I really wanted, the information in the film, was to me, like nectar to a honeybee; the fear of the audience was also overwhelming. On one such trip out, I reached for the exit door handle and looked up to see that I was arm's length from our  Mayor, Eric Genrich. He was also leaning in toward the crash bar on the exit door and we nearly collided. He was leaving too but he seemed to be leaving for good. I really like this guy in my waking life and have seen him at many, many informational gatherings in the days, weeks and months before he became Mayor. He seems to be open-minded and responsive to many of the same issues that motivate me, so I feel in league with him on many levels.

Often in dreams, our vocal cords are paralyzed. This was the case at this "moment" in my dream. I wanted to say something, anything to him but could not. As we walked out, I held the door for him and stood mute as he walked into the steely and steady rain.  

Timeless Treasures

As many of my long-term readers know, rather than trying to speak only about topical issues that seem important in this moment, I try to record messages and information that will remain important for all time. That is why I have gone back into human history, further back than the development of written language, to recapture and rediscover the art and science of biochar. It is why I felt compelled to share it with my readers. My six posts from over two years ago, each one indicated by a one word title beginning with the letter "M", have taught many people the nearly lost technology that we call biochar today. If all that we are familiar with passes, there is, perhaps, one thing that could be the most important to understand, it is how to make and use this ancient material. Human ancestors thought it was important enough to share over seven thousand years ago and there are few things humans can do that make as much difference to our quality of life and health as improving the quality of our soils. Even though the majority of life on our planet is microscopic, that does not mean that it is any less important than the creatures we can see. Learning to revere that which we cannot see though, that presents a challenge for some.

I guess I never thought about it but there does seem to be a sizeable contingent that places their faith in an unseen force, but there is still no science that can prove the existence of "god". Soil microbes on the other hand can bee seen with the right equipment. We can also document such changes as biochar can make. At the application rate of just one tonne per hectare, a little less than (900 pounds per acre) we know that it doubles crop production, reduces the need for both fertilizer and irrigation by 1/3 to 1/2, protects both surface and groundwater quality and greatly expands habitat for the soil microbes that are responsible for feeding plants and ameliorating the effects of global climate destabilization. An interesting side benefit for our unusual times is that it sequesters carbon in soil, for geologic time, not just in the form of pyrolized carbon itself, but the myriad of organisms who coat the surfaces of the material which has fourteen acres of surface area in each and every handful. There are many things that have been around forever that are not just serviceable, but either reflect enduring qualities that we consider human or essential to understanding who we are and those that can give us hints about our "purpose" here on Earth. Although we often gloss over some of them, I try to tease out the salient parts for today or intricately weave them into the more topical discussions that inform the avant garde. I also try to tease out those aspects which may have value hundreds of lifetimes hence. Under our current covid-19 crisis, there are things in our past that we can remember or call to mind that can help us deal with the situation we find ourselves in now. There are also things that I come across in day-to-day life that may be of service thousands of years from now and I do not want to claim to know the difference. In a perfect world, I would be an equal opportunity chronicler. Knowing not just that history repeats, but that the human species has come up against other, similarly challenging times can often give us strength and confidence that there will be light at the end of these dark times. Just as when walking, putting one foot in front of the other is typically necessary, laying out these ideas not only allows us to get a sense of where we are, but how all of our parts are cooperating (or not) to achieve efficient locomotion. With a bit of luck, when I find things that are out of place or not working at all, it will give readers impetus to make changes necessary for confronting our issues, meeting new challenges and facing who we, sometimes unwittingly, have become. If my words help us to determine who we want to be, all the better.

Rest assured, there were people claiming the end was near since we were still lived in caves and there were people who warned against the use of fire because it was seen as a new, dangerous and seductive force among us. Today, we have the same sorts of reactions to 5G and microchipping individuals to constantly monitor their location or physical attributes. It is well to remember that as we stand on the threshold of this brave new world, there are great applications for even the scariest technologies. A friend, compelled by love and wracked with compassion, is worried to death about his wife and her health issues, so she wears a continuous blood glucose monitor that sends real time updates and alerts to his phone if she gets either too much or too little sugar in her blood. Without ever having to prick her finger, this technology aids the two of them to plan and adjust to changing conditions, just like we bring everything up from our basement every time the flood warnings sound. From one perspective, it all makes sense but from another perspective, it is very scary also. Just knowing that the closeness to a situation can change your perspective is something that I consider to be a timeless treasure.

Creating Our Refuge

Many years ago, when I was a young man, I went door-to-door with an environmental group. I always asked to be put in the most remote areas where I could have plenty of time between doors to appreciate nature, get some exercise hustling between visits with people, to clear my mind and drink deeply of the fresher country air. Frequently I would take my bicycle and race up and down long driveways, bringing news of salient ecological issues, recent work our organization had been doing and important steps that people could take to protect themselves and their neighbors from toxic chemicals in the environment. I especially liked traveling through the country because these dispersed folks were typically living right on top of their only source of fresh water and helping them to protect the groundwater beneath their feet has always been a compelling reason for me to be involved in both ecological education and environmental stewardship. One particular event still stands out in my mind and when I think back on the experience, it still has the profound immediacy and sublime power that it did the day I experienced it.

This day, I was walking, so to reduce the distance between doors, I had forsaken the long driveways. My goal was to talk to between eighty and a hundred people during the course of the evening and without my bike I didn't want to waste time going up and down the long driveways. Everything seemed to be woods, so I didn't have to worry about people getting uptight about me running across their lawns. The community I was in was on a lake, so the homes were clustered along the waterfront and they were several hundred feet back from a paved road that ran roughly parallel to the lakefront.

Between two of the properties something changed. It was hard to put my finger on it, but in the woods, sometimes ecotones develop that change temperature, humidity, light or soils in such a way that you can see, smell or feel it. This was, simply put, a different energetic state. I felt like everything suddenly came alive, as if there was a change in the spirit of the woods. Often, in these out of the way places, there would be either of two conditions, the owners would sometimes rake and mow, plant and cut the woods to within an inch of their lives, changing nature in ways that I felt were over the top. I mean, if you want to make nature like a manicured public space, you could live in town and just go to the nearest park. Even more people would have a small area, often around the house or down by their dock where they would do this, but the rest would be ignored, sometimes with what seemed to me at the time, a vengeance. Trash would blow out into the more remote portions of these natural yards, they would create a trash heap out by the old outhouse or leave human-made objects lying around in the woods until they simply forgot that they were out there at all.

This place was different. It was beyond what nature intended. The variety of plants was much greater than anywhere else around the lake that I had been. There were sprays and clusters of  native plants that one rarely sees in proximity, as if the entire woods had been landscaped with native plants with compassionate sensitivity and specific intention. A few dozen steps further, I saw that there was a trail. This area is entirely on a giant outcrop of limestone and the trail, which was narrow, was lined on both sides with the bright white limestone that had a mellow patina that develops over decades, the result of algae and moss. There were a wide variety of ferns and orchids, Trees, bushes and flowering plants, ephemeral plants that might only show themselves for a few weeks each year and along this path, on the way to the house I found, places to sit, not to rest necessarily, but to just appreciate the composition of the plantings or perhaps watch wildlife in particularly stunning settings. Seriously, the whole place looked like the perfect picture postcard or  something out of a tourist brochure. Every single thing seemed to exude comfort, like it was placed in perfect proximity to everything it needed to thrive.

The people who inhabited this idyllic space were equally at home in their environment and I had to spend some extra time with them because I could feel that I was in an unusually harmonious location and I knew that I had something to learn form them as well. after telling them about what I was doing there and how they could help, we dispensed with my "work" and they seamlessly began to talk about what brought them to this place and how they related to the location. They had, years ago lived in Chicago, several hours away by car and they had a cottage even further north along this giant limestone outcrop. They shared with me that often, when they returned home after a long weekend or vacation at their cottage, they would think to themselves, why are we leaving the place we want to be, to return "home to a place we don't want to be? It was then that they hatched a plan. Several years passed before they could change their situation, but they decided to find jobs that allowed them to telecommute, or work from home most of the time. they also began looking in earnest fo ra property that was not quite so removed from civilization and they agreed that they wanted to live on a lake, so they sold two places and downsized to one property that was even more idyllic. That took place about twenty years before I was seeing the result and over the intervening years, they had put thousands of hours into each tableau, lining the paths and designing ways for nature to come alive around them. The wife said, "One day we realized that mowing the grass, shoveling the snow at two places and doing the maintenance on two places was running us in circles, taking us away from what we really loved about this place. As soon as we realized it, we knew that we had to make a change."

This has been alive in my mind ever since. I have done the same thing, as much as I can wherever I have been ever since. The brief time that I had a place in the country, it was my goal and life's ambition to transform it as well, turning it into my temple, my playground, my hide away, my estate, my sustenance. One place, providing for all of my needs, even a place to entertain friends. In my most recent location, I have all of that. At last count there were more than three dozen edible perennials that return to greet me each year. My only obligation to them is to eat some and give some away when they need a bit of thinning. I have rooms to let so that I can welcome guests and travelers. I can go weeks on end without having to drive anywhere and I am granted amazing vistas and nature exists all around me inviting me into its sublime family of life. I know where the fox lives, where the geese like to raise their hatchlings and the places the squirrels like to hang out on the coldest sunny winter days. I have become so intimate with my "place" that I know where I can plant new cuttings if they like warmer and drier spots and where the ground stays cold and wet even into mid April, sometimes early May. I still mow a bit, so I have a place to teach my biochar classes and not have to worry when I kindle a fire in my fire pit, but this place fits me and it fits me quite well.

However, the time has come to be moving on. Having become adept at finding this harmony, I know I can recreate it somewhere else. It is actually more a state of mind than an actual place for me. Now that I have found the formula, it exists in my blood, me sweat, my toil. Even when I am called away, there is a part of this flow that resides in me as well as me living in and amongst the flow itself. I have seen and lived the depth of commitment that is required to transform the world and carry that with me at all times. That is part of the joy I feel even when struggling the happiness I feel when problem solving for others. That feeling I had, alone in the woods, decades ago that mystic beings were welcomed to the space, or had a place for them prepared at the table now follows me everywhere. Even when I travel beyond the boundary of my refuge, the feeling of it remains alive within me, assuring me that my needs are being met and the ones I love will be cared for even if I have to go away for a while.