Keep Loving

I’ve often heard that what grows most prevalent around you may be what you need. Every year for the past twenty-five I’ve witnessed Nature’s care taking of my chosen home. Every year battles wage with unwanted invasives that if left unchecked upend the natural ecosystem. And then there are sweet victories when the cleared space allows the original wonders to emerge. I’m not one for chemical herbicides; the clearing of unwanteds is a labor of love. 

A visiting Mapuche elder once walked the land and told me, “As this land heals you’ll see purple flowers everywhere.” Healing has its own deep roots. Did she mean healing from the clear-cutting decades before, or was she referring to the disregard so many have for the land we inhabit, for the land that holds us and nourishes us? The amazing trees that shade us from intense heat and whose dead trunks and branches keep our fires going in winter. The delicious “weeds”, so bountifully given, from nettles to lamb quarters, purslane and others will always keep hunger at bay. Along with chicory and blackcaps that are springing up everywhere, there are the precious elderberry. (Elderberry tonic has been my go-to through the biting winters to maintain good health).

An honorable mention must also be given to the mushrooms that coexist with us; and the eager black walnuts that insist on expanding their territory even though they are forbidden in the apple orchard. (Black walnut’s roots have a knack of poisoning apple trees and other plants, but the early leaves make a great de-wormer for my sheep and their nuts are delicious, their wood is exquisite and so we co-exist).

It’s an amazing gift this natural world.

This year, if the buds on the monarda plants have their way, the landscape will be a sea of purple. Monarda or bee balm is a wonderful anti-inflammatory. Native to Wisconsin it has been heralded as helpful with digestion and with coughs. And it’s a beautiful pollinator plant; just ask the bees.

What has all this taught me? The land, like all else, thrives on love. Keep loving.

The Same Watering Hole

It’s hot. People are being stretched to their limits. If not from the radical swings of Nature, from the ignorance of human beings. The earthquake calamity in Venezuela is exacerbated by international corporate theft of oil revenues. The people impacted are receiving little help. Hunger is taking hold, bodies remain trapped and hope is dissipating.  

From all accounts, Sudan is bracing for another wave of violence. Amnesty International and others point to a war that would end if outside forces stopped weaponizing both sides. This is a battle for the control of resources. It shows no mercy on innocent lives. And let us not forget the human slaughter that Israel continues in Palestine and now in Lebanon as the world watches in real time.

We’re in crisis that most media and elected officials refuse to acknowledge in any meaningful way. One has to dig deep to uncover the inhumanity. Here in Wisconsin, masked ICE agents are targeting people who are in full compliance with immigration laws. In Milwaukee, police are allowing ICE to override laws created to curtail their violent operations. Families are disrupted and dreams are crushed as deaths in ICE custody rise in the inhuman, for-profit facilities we have allowed.

But if you dig deep, you will learn that Native tribes fought for the closure of Alligator Alcatraz with the Miccosukee Tribe and environmental groups winning the case to end the detention center. You will hear of countries sending aid to Venezuela, and NGO’s risking all to help those in need. But you have to dig. Because those in power know that if the full picture of system collapse and human misery is shown, people will rise.

And People are rising. Despite the lies and the corruption. Despite the obscene wealth that knows no compassion, People are rising. Community action groups are springing up to fight data centers, transmission and pipelines, and to protect their immigrant neighbors. And people are voting. This battle to save our souls is not over. 

Those who recognize we share the same watering hole are asserting their humanity. And we will win.

To help with immediate needs of our immigrant friends and neighbors visit ACT WISCONSIN STATEWIDE COALITION

Staying Human

Life sometimes takes turns that require decisive attention and action.  When you have chickens, you can count on it.

We have free range chickens, really free range. They lay eggs in the darndest places and then the game of hide and seek is on. Because if we don’t find them, a predator will. And of course, there are hens who trick us and find a way to sit on five to fifteen eggs that we hadn’t found. We figure this out when the hen doesn’t make it back to the coop at night. And then the hunt is on, this time with a dog kennel in tow. 

One hen had been sitting on eggs inside a kennel for way too long, but she wouldn’t give up. We knew the eggs could not be viable, but her insistence made us slip another few eggs under her. One determined fellow finally made it out of the shell, which, from what I can tell, is no easy feat. The mama is completely devoted to its presence and it is a delight to watch.

And of course, there was the hen who decided to roost inside the coop high on the rafters. Every day we looked for a chick that might have fallen, but this mom was on it. Two chicks hatched and somehow landed softly. Mama hen took them outside and with little coaching walked them into a tiny coop set up for them. A couple eggs that had been left behind in the rafter were put near her. One never knows if the hen will accept an egg, but this mama ever so gently used her beak to pull them under her belly and into the warmth required to hatch. And voila, by morning there were four little chicks parading in the coop. 

But wait, there’s more in this busy week. Another hen didn’t come home and a storm was on the way. We had scoped out a nest of eggs and sure enough she was there, stone faced and determined. Luckily, we have many dog kennels. She was scooped up along with her fifteen eggs just before the all-night rain. In a few weeks, another brood will be enjoying their freedom.

There is joy in witnessing their effort, determination, and caring. They are brilliantly who they are meant to be and when permitted they teach us compassion and resourcefulness. So we’ll keep learning from and with them; staying sane and being human.

Enjoy the miracles that aren’t really miracles, my friends. It is simply life unfolding.

Juneteenth

Let’s celebrate that which is worthy of celebration!

Some things never took on me. As a teen I had a fierce reaction against the Vietnam war when most people were blindly in support, before the narratives changed and the body count rose. I remember at even younger years, I was not willing to mistreat or even speak poorly of children less advantaged. And I never understood the disregard and dehumanization of Black children who I counted as friends. I hated the stigmas on diversity or anything that smacked of difference issued by “God fearing, church goers”. Their hypocrisy was repugnant to me. It chased me from religion, but not from my Creator. 

A favored aunt tried to help me “see the plight of white people”, offering books that spoke of being outnumbered and more. I felt sorry for her. I didn’t realize at the time she was unwittingly warning me of what was yet to come. That those Sunday worshiping, people of God were about to unleash hatred so vile as to make me want to withdraw from society as a whole.

But that’s not my fate. I choose instead to champion the truly Good in all of us. And however desperate the times appear; I’m committed to fulfilling my life’s purpose: to be fully human, fully alive. I’ve lived a life of questioning and choosing. And my choices, while not easily executed, have allowed a love of humanity and of the earth that I cherish.

Baraboo, Wiscsonsin will be celebrating Juneteenth for the third year. It’s a community refusing to surrender to the racism that has haunted it. Haunted all of us. I’ll be there again. This is what we need. To celebrate our stories of victory, to revel in the colors of the rainbow and to delight in our diversity which is our strength.

It’s time for the silent to waken. The line is drawn. We are either human or we are not. There is no other choice. Time to dance.

Abolish ICE. End racism. Choose humanity. Celebrate Juneteenth.

Waking With the Sun

As Solstice draws near.

There are certain things I wish for you, for all of you. I wish that you will know the joy of waking with the sun. Of hearing the sweet morning songs of birds letting us know they made it through the night. Of watching deer saunter with their fawns in toe. Of checking on fruit of trees to see how the harvest might be. I wish for you the peacefulness of resting in the evening, contented with another day of loving. I wish for you to sleep, as if you are in the arms of your Eternal Mother, with confidence that you are loved. And should your sleep be disturbed let it be by the brilliance of a moon that calls you to behold its beauty or by the stars teaching us we are never alone.

I wish these things and so much more for you. And more than this, because these are just the finite musings of one heart. I wish that you find fulfillment in your every waking moment in whatever path you choose.

It’s in loving that we learn who we are. It’s in the pursuit of heaven on earth that we are given the opportunity to co-create with all of life. And when others speak of God, you will not have to define the term or accept anyone’s creed, because you will be at rest in your own Knowing.

These are my wishes for you.  That counting your blessings with each passing breath is not a challenge or a chore, but life completed. That you may forgive all who try to stuff your heart into a box and strip your mind of its wings… and may ignorance never succeed in squelching your aspirations towards living.

My wish for you is peace.

250 Years

And we are still here…

As the swirl of BS continues and it seems harder to find hints of humanity, compassion and kindness, remember this: The United States was born as a republic led by an aristocracy of white men. Yet the Declaration of Independence offered some of the highest human ideals ever written: All men are created equal and the right to the pursuit of happiness – unless of course you were Indigenous, a Slave, or a Woman. For these lofty ideals to become true for all required that equality, equity and the pursuit of justice would become a relentless effort. Two hundred and fifty years of blood, sweat and tears from some of the most courageous and passionate people brought us tremendous victories.

This struggle made by (primarily) marginalized Peoples must be the pride of this nation, not its castaways. And while the arrogant attempt to erase our history and whitewash our struggles, it’s incumbent upon us to celebrate the 250 years of valiant courage and unbridled wisdom of those who resisted injustice.

The stories of persistent valor that are handed down, whether written or verbal, in song or in art, must be held as sacred and continue to be shared. Teach our children the legacy of which they can be proud. Remind them that our Native siblings are still here despite attempted genocide. Remind them of the resiliency of all who were brought here against their will to be enslaved. Help them understand that socialism, feared by the elites, gave us fire departments, the post office, public schools, unions, better working conditions and so much more. 

Let’s stop wasting time on the small minded, the greedy and the power hungry.  They have risen from time to time, but have never triumphed. We know their history intimately. We carry the scars. It is time to uplift and honor those who never allowed ignorance to win. However daunting the challenge, we cannot sacrifice the gains that humanity has made. We must persevere.

Let’s come together to celebrate the true victors. The ones who never surrendered their love or their humanity. Let’s begin again. And all that is now being done to destroy human dignity can be undone. Do not despair. We will rise stronger; our light will be brighter.

And let us acknowledge that this country was and remains imperfect, and rather, see it as a work of art, perhaps never to be finished but always available for our love and corrections. We are living in a time of correction. Your voice and your clarity are needed.

Find one another. Humanity is calling.

Fragility

Fragility is not always a weakness. It can be the direct result of living in an insane world.

Today began with another reminder of how fragile we are. The call came early; the voice was shaky and broken. I sat down. Another youth made the ultimate sacrifice. Another life lost in the crush of a society that refuses to walk away from inhumanity and senseless hatred. We’re living in a death wish that pretends to be civilization. And for some, suicide becomes the last resort and a final slap to the world that refuses to listen. 

This upside-down world filled with contradictions and dead ends are too much for many. They are the Ones whose empathy becomes the sword they fall on. The Ones whose question “Why?” is screamed into an abyss. The Ones we say “were not meant for this world”, instead of saying “we must repair the garden we have destroyed”. We carry on. We say prayers, raise money to cover burials and refuse to look deeper. Those closest to the departed will feel the sting of shame and the torment of guilt, but that should not be their burden, as we all have a hand in this human spider web. 

In a land where guns outnumber humans and children are taught their lives are political fodder, how could we expect anything else?

In a country steeped in empty faith with compromises and contradictions so great a camel could pass through the eye of that needle. We missed the boat of humanity. We prefer lies and excuses. We prefer beliefs of Santa Claus and heaven. We want sugar coated exceptionalism to reign. And the ugly truth is something we refuse to handle. Fear is and has always been the driver of this country, but today it’s on steroids.

But not for all of us. It has never been all of us. Some of us have always known better. And perhaps it is time for the fearless to lead.

For those unafraid of facing truth, let us recognize one another with dignity and compassion. Let us help one another. Love and peace are not only possible; they are our birthright. It requires a deeper dive and a willingness to accept and celebrate the incredible gift that is life. Help one another. We can do this.

LGBTQ+ Rights and Our Duty to Protect-2Download

Be Like Water; Be Persistent

Echo Valley Farm is in its twenty-fifth year. Years ago, I met an old man in our little town who asked where I lived. When I told him, he boasted that in one day they had taken down more trees on that property than anywhere he could remember. It’s funny how we learn unexpected truths. I saw his pride and recognized that talking about clearcutting was not a battle I could win – not this way. But since then, every year we purchase 75 to 100 saplings from our county conservation department. Now many red oaks, maples, apples, elderberry, burr oaks, white pines and spruce have found a home here. 

This year we chose trees that have life spans of 200 to 300 years, hickory and chestnuts. Their nuts may begin producing in five to ten years. The healing of the land continues. Over time I’ve learned that the deer will mow down every unprotected sapling. Wire fences work great, until the rabbits teach you how much they love to girdle the young fruit trees. So now another layer of protection is required to ward them off until each marvelous breathing tree is capable of withstanding the onslaught.

And this is the resilience and the persistence we need. We live in a time of reckoning. From the moment colonizers landed on Turtle Island, as Indigenous People recognized North America as Turtle Island, there has been a rush of exploitation of land, water, and people. This finite approach toward living is reaching its zenith and a swift fall will follow. Those in control who are willingly ready to destroy the earth and have no compassion for any being living here are outnumbered and soon will be outflanked.

Let us be like water; find a way around the obstacles. Healing is not only possible; it’s joyful.

With each passing year, I fall deeper in love with the forest that will one day be.

above photo: 25 year old spruce; 15 year old oak

below photo: 3 yer old red maple living in what will become a sugar bush

Take a Dive in the Deeper End

If your media intake is limited to FOX, MSN, CNN and the like, you’re being lulled into aggression or passivity. Facts in these arenas are designed to distract and divide. I want to direct you to your humanity.

In my seventh decade, I’m still learning about the exploitations and manipulations of the United States throughout its history, but better late than never. A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn is a great primer.

If you’re among those holding your breath in hopes that some divine hand will reshape the current course of insanity, I would tell you to stop wasting your time. There’s no hero coming to save the day. The hope is that we, as individuals and collectively, will take the time to learn how we got here and find creative ways to revolutionize our communities, our nation and the world.

If the fire in your belly has been all but extinguished, I would suggest to you to find the fighters among us who have not given up. The clear eyed, passionate truth tellers. The marginalized who are no longer controlled by corporate money and the empire. Free your mind and your heart will thank you.

Because we’re not born to be enslaved. We’re born to enjoy the magnificence of this creation. We’re not born to enslave others or to control their uniqueness in any way. We’re not here to destroy the garden, but to co-create with it.

There are people challenging the status quo of hate and fear. I count myself among them. I seek out their wisdom. Not to follow or mimic, but to fuel my thirst for peace and justice, so I can carry on.

If you haven’t yet discovered Democracy Now, do it. And “Steal This Story, Please!” is an excellent documentary on the disciplined activism of Amy Goodman. 

Lastly, I have come to appreciate the independent journalists and creative minds on Substack. Many have been driven from corporate media of their outspoken criticism of inhumanity and injustice. Danielle Moodie, Wajahat Ali, Joy Reid, Jared Yates Sexton, Katie Phang, Trita Parsi and Alisa Valdes-Rodriquez are a few of my favorites.

Still other are artists and activists seeking community and the chance to be heard. Take time to catch the poetry, photography and heart of Mustava Santiago Ali and Justin Mott. You can find all of these and many more on my profile page at Substack. Discover and share the diversity of thought and will that is our right and our heritage as human beings.

When we know one another, when we see each other’s humanity, we will change course.

May 15 is the International Day of Contentious Objectors. You can listen to my podcast, Changing the Narrative with CO David Kopitske from the Vietnam War which aired on WDRT.

May 15 is also Nakba Day, which began 78 years of ethnic cleansing of Palestinian People. Let us help grow the movement of BDS to stop the genocide. You can learn more at Grow the Movement from Visualize Palestine.

The photo of Slave Narrative books was taken at Whitney Plantation.

What Every Gardener Must Know

There are things that show up in your garden that just should not be there. Wisdom tells us to pull weeds or put up a fence to keep varmints out early in the season. If we don’t, the effort it will take at harvest will be overwhelming and disappointing. 

These days I spend cutting wild rose and autumn olive in the orchard. Years ago, someone warned me that the wild rose could take over. I ignored his plea to take action. A little aromatic rose couldn’t be that bad, right? I was wrong. Like grape vine, the tentacles of the wild rose reach into the apple branches and are destructive. They tear through clothing and no animal cares to eat them.

photo: wild rose encroaching on a young oak….but not for long.

Not catching the encroachment of autumn olive on the perimeters was another mistake. Both invasives take their toll on the diversity of indigenous wildflowers and luscious greens. Now as I spend time clearing away what should not have been, I delight in the variety, and the increased abundance of wildlife tells me I am on the right path.  

Another bonus of tending the orchard is the respite from the madness that surrounds us these days. And I have to acknowledge the obvious. The seeds of colonial destruction and the cruelty of capitalism should never have been allowed to take root in the garden of the Americas. 

We must do all that we can, in whatever ways that we can, to stop the encroachment of ignorance into our lives and our communities. Truth telling and not recoiling from the backlash that will surely come is an antidote. Finding like-minded souls willing to forge a new way is essential. And key is the enjoyment of the discovery of what has always been: being human in this glorious home we call earth. 

Hope to see some of you here in Madison on Sunday, May 10, 6 pm. Independent journalism and beloved community. Carry on Amy Goodman!