Green Tribe of Belonging

 As an antidote to the dismaying happenings in our government lately, I've been spending a lot of time out in nature. I go to my garden where I've planted hundreds of seedlings I grew inside. And also to my favorite spot at Kent Park, where you can look out over prairie and sky, birds flying overhead, trees shading the landscape, a wide expanse of the earth with less evidence of human interference. There I can breathe deep, open my mind and heart, and join the other millions of lifeforms in our world. I can remind myself that I'm just another little being, connected to everything. And I can ask for guidance. I love to think about how life sustains itself. All of us beings (plant and animal) grow and thrive for awhile, and then when we're done, our bodies sustain the following generations of life. It's like natural recycling, there from the beginning. Our earth's natural rhythms perfected this process long before we coined the term recycling. As a follow-up to ou...

 I've been thinking about the theme of this particular blog post for days, but then I doubt that I can do it justice, so I busy myself with something else. Today, though, there's no excuse for putting it off. So I'll just start writing. Probably the same as many of you, it is hard to pay attention to what's happening in the world and still feel positive energy. I get twenty or thirty requests for money from Democratic candidates every day, and I've stopped even opening them. I imagine they are worthy causes, but any extra money I have goes to my family. So I delete and delete, and some days I even delete all the posts about what's happening in the government. Some days I decide I can tolerate reading only one, which is usually Heather Cox Richardson.  And that's just the political stuff. Then there's the planet. It is so easy to lead our human lives, surrounded by things we've created, and forget about what's happening to the environment outside ...

 I know that the majority of you who read this blog are from places pretty far from Iowa City. So you'd not consider driving to our gathering on Saturday afternoon (May 2, 2:00, Prairie Hill Cohousing). But even so, you might be interested in what we're doing and might decide to do something similar in your own area. The film we're seeing is something you could watch at home. Being on microplastics, it is not a cheerful subject, but it will be good to know more about this reality in our world and have some ideas about how to cope with it. The best thing about monthly gatherings like this, focused on caring for the earth, is how good it feels to be among others sharing the same concerns, and also enjoying the sharing of the good earth-related insights and happenings in our lives. Even though we may sometimes be focusing on difficult realities, the regular coming together of neighbors and friends for the common purpose of learning and honoring our Earth is fortifying and upli...

 Spring has brought me a multitude of opportunities to learn more about our Earth in the last several weeks. And on this, Earth Day, it seems appropriate for me to think back on these different experiences and share some of the wisdom. Sometimes I find it depressing when I interact with people who seem to think everything is fine on our planet, that those crazy liberals are just making up this climate change crisis, that populations of animals and plants are not disappearing, that our human ways are perfect and no need to worry, that news reports to the contrary are just lies. I've spent some time trying to figure out why so much of our country's population seems to be blind to the real state of things, our chaotic and corrupt government, our rising temperatures and unpredictable weather, the collapse of some ecosystems. I strive to be compassionate with these individuals, even though I'm really concerned that they are living in an illusion. And when I get back to my own ho...

  At the End of the Path Walking east in the sharp air of fall, tracing the edge of harvested corn, along the smoothed way of tractor tread, a south wind makes the grasses move like waves,  and the distant slope calls to me. Halfway to the field’s end, there to the left, a track branches off and down. It goes straight and purposefully into the low pasture, toward a stand of new saplings along the streambed, red and gold leaves catching the early sun, shimmering, beckoning to me. My feet decide, as I turn to follow the path, imagining deer and perhaps a fawn seeking shelter during the heat of day near the creek banks, under the trees. Or it might be a coyote,  night’s ramble over and heading home. I feel excitement, walking carefully on the path of mysterious others,  heading down through matted grass, wanting to follow, not knowing what I’ll find. Then the path turns suddenly  tacking west toward a rugged oak tree, old, weathered, a few leaves showing signs of l...

  Sitting with the Cabbages It happened at dusk one summer evening,   resting on the soft grass   in the margin between garden and lane,   my children quietly playing in the distance. During the day   I weeded this garden,   hoeing, tending. Now, during shimmering moments    between day and night,   I sit at the feet of cabbages,   strong green leaves stretching upward,   radiant in the subdued light. What is this intoxicating influence   that leaves me rapt and motionless?   I sit in still-point,   boundaries blurring,   feeling my breath,   in and out,   as if we all,    plant, tree, human,   are being breathed by something larger. For many moments, or maybe only a few,   I forget who I am,   held in an invisible    web of all that is. And then (can I believe my eyes?)...