Oklahoma City. Our downtown is going through a vast amount of change very fast. Turning this Instagram photo into a black-and-white photo reminded me of the 1950s when our skyline and city was somewhat different, and it made me wonder what our skyline might look like 50 or 100 years from now – in 2062 or 2112.
Inspirational and gutsy homily making the rounds on Facebook and blogs right now, and so worthy of sharing. Feel free to pass it on. Found at hinessight.blogs.com.
Dear December 2011 --
I’m just coming off a week-long staycation and the peace it brought to my life is yet another reminder of the joy found in simple rest. I’m thankful for the opportunity you brought to dawdle a bit with family and friends, to ponder endings and beginnings.
With ThinkMan on staycation too, our little family made art, read books, lounged, watched movies, talked, went out to eat, took a day trip to the Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge, a wildly beautiful place, and in general did what we wanted when we wanted. Callie and I stayed up late every night and slept late every day and got our days and nights completely turned around. It was heavenly.
Now, it’s back to reality, a reality that after our tranquil pause seems to have fewer edges, a reality that turns my mind to the meaning of work, a reality that finds me thinking on being 55, closing in on 56 and the years to come.
It’s 2012 now; in 2016 I will be 60; in 2018, 62 and eligible for early retirement, unless that too changes in this constantly shifting world. I remember thinking when I was in my 20s how any year after 2000 sounded so far away, so futuristic, so beyond imagining, and here I am, my oh my, living the future, contemplating what retirement might be like.
Post-50 life evolves differently mentally, physically, spiritually, and in our society it is not a particularly easy process. We are forced to compete for a living with energetic, lively, saavy 20- and 30-somethings at the start of their careers. They are beautiful in their enthusiasm and zest, and in some work environments, the integration of generations is smooth and gracious. In others, well, let’s just say the situation is one that does no generation any favors.
If the experience and wisdom that comes with working for 30+ years were indeed valued or honored in our society, the paradigm for the less-than-ideal situations might be different, but increasingly such is not the case. Well-documented deleterious effects of ageism are sadly alive and well in the job marketplace, leaving many in the 50+ crowd scrambling for jobs or out of work, and vast swaths of younger adults reinventing the wheel, sailing into storms without the benefit of sage guidance. Profit, celebrity and image reign as monarchs, experience and wisdom are deemed unfashionable, dowdy, and too expensive – and indeed the overall message is post-50, you best get out of the way.
The question then becomes, get out of the way where? For unless one is a white-middle-aged or older male CEO, in which case your worth is hundreds of times that of the common person – the job prospects and the pay for those post-50 is on the decrease, at times astronomically. I’ve seen it happen over and over with family and friends and I’ve experienced it first-hand. It’s an achingly brutal and cruel process for a so-called civilized society, but then there are dark niches and corners aplenty in these modern times that are not gracious.
All the more reason, December, why I am grateful for you – you bring a flow and pattern to our lives, a language I understand more clearly with each passing year, a ceremonial and metaphorical housecleaning in a world we have not one iota of control over. You break down the reality of things – it’s like seeing the forest bold and tall, tree trunks darkly outlined against the sky, all their leaves gone. You bring serenity and clarity, the wisdom to know what might still be changed, and what must be accepted, and just as the trees let go of their leaves year after year, I’ve come to realize, during your visits, this is part of what I too will do the rest of my life – let go.
Time marches faster and faster, often whizzing by at a dizzying pace. I realize there are some things on my bucket list that I will probably never do. I realize I cannot save the world. I realize I am insignificant, not in a demeaning way, but in a natural way that always has been and always will be.
In making peace with this, and with my aging body and mind, I gasp from time to time. This is not an easy process, and yet I realize it is the same process every animal, human and non-human, faces in one way or another.
Can I do it gracefully, with meaning, with graciousness? I ask myself this often; I am sure I am not always successful at it. I prioritize the things that are most important: Family and friends; laughter and joy; days spent in the garden feeling the essence of life in the dark earth crumbling between my fingers, days in the sun, rain, snow; and days of listening to the world around me. I say goodbye to those things (or try to) that are not important, that are not necessary or that do not fulfill.
Success looks and feels different. It is often tiny, magical, intimate, anonymous. It is doing meaningful things with whatever time I have left -- or doing nothing at all but enjoying a winter’s day -- the thousands of hues of browns, maroons and greys in a landscape, the thin pale blue of sky, the slight yellow of sun filtering through bare trees warming my skin.
When someone laughs, I know in the deepest marrow of my bones that these fragments of joy are what life is all about – that the modern world we live in is not black or white or good or bad -- it just is – a distraction -- and it too, with all of its luxuries, amenities, and cruel indignities - shall pass. When it does, whatever humanity lives on may yet learn again what life is all about – may return to that ancient way of knowing -- of just being.
December, you are always welcome at my hearth. I’m looking forward to being with you again in a few months. I know you’ll be here before we know it.
With gratitude --
ThinkLady
Tricia Dameron, a.k.a Oklavore
My friend Tricia Dameron, 30, has been blogging as Okla-vore since 2007. In her blog she passionately explores her interest in all sorts of foodie things: cooking, baking, preserving, eating, shopping, food culture and traditions, endangered food ways, farming, ranching. Tricia brings an adventurous spirit, indefatigable curiosity and plucky, self-deprecating humor to her blogging endeavors, sharing her triumphs and failures so we can all learn from them, and I’ve come to greatly appreciate her careful research and knowledge.
Because of her passion for fresh, healthy local food and farming, Tricia’s organized a very cool event – happening Saturday night, June 25th – the Oklahoma premiere of the film The Greenhorns, at IAO Gallery. The documentary …
“ … explores the lives of America's young farming community - its spirit, practices, and needs. It is the filmmaker's hope that by broadcasting the stories and voices of these young farmers, we can build the case for those considering a career in agriculture - to embolden them, to entice them, and to recruit them into farming.”
According to the film’s website, there are very compelling reasons for the making of Greenhorns:
“The average farmer is 57. America loses two acres of farmland per minute. One third of today's kindergarteners will develop type 2 diabetes. The last 30 years have seen a protracted crisis in American agriculture. We have fewer farmers, less land, a degraded soil base and intensifying corporate control over production, processing and technology.”
So we’ve got plenty of reasons to be concerned about current the state of agriculture, but here, joyfully, energetically, enthusiastically, ebulliently enter The Greenhorns and Tricia. Both give us plenty of reasons to hope.
Photo credit Julie Evans
YERT: Your Environmental Road Trip screened last night at the deadCenter Film Festival and will screen again tomorrow at 1 p.m. at Harkins Theater, Oklahoma City. I couldn’t go last night but am getting very excited about the Saturday screening. Just in case you missed it, YERT was winner of the Audience Award at the 2011 Environmental Film Festival at Yale.
Today I’m hoping to snag some cool YERT swag at the Meet & Greet with Mark Dixon Transition OKC is hosting from 4-6 p.m., Elemental Coffee, 815 N. Hudson. Come on down! First ten people at the Meet & Greet win a reusable YERT ChicoBag, and Dixon will also be giving away two copies of Better World Shopping Guide by Ellis Jones.
Couple of days ago on a conference call with Carolyne Stayton, executive director, Transition US, I mentioned YERT was screening here (Carolyne is interviewed in YERT), and boy, she really perked up. Her voice got all and happy and she said, “I love those guys. They are so much fun.” I can’t think of any better recommendation.
Final words.
And finally … the last installment of the Q&A email interview with Mark Dixon and Ben Evans, YERT’s producers and directors. A huge heartfelt Okie thanks to them for being so thoughtful in answering the questions and for taking so much time with this. Gotta say -- these two guys are rich with insights – realistic and hopeful – a useful balance for all of us as we keep on transitioning. Be sure to read all the way to the end – they saved their best words for last.
Q: What was the most inspiring thing you discovered on your journey?
A: Wes Jackson and the Land Institute in Salina, Kan., were particularly inspiring. He's really addressing a number of problems simultaneously by rethinking the entire idea of agriculture. His visionary concept of a perennial polyculture addresses soil erosion, water scarcity, food security, climate change mitigation and adaptation, fossil fuel use, pesticide use, biodiversity, and general ecological health in one fell swoop. t's pretty amazing stuff. And once his work is done, he plans to give it away to humanity. Our children and grandchildren will be thanking him, big time.
Q: Most interesting?
A: In Idaho we found a guy with an idea to pave all the roads in the U.S. with solar panels. His invention, Solar Roadways (which is featured in the film), was one of the most interesting ideas we found all year - largely because it seems so outlandish and impossible on the face of it. But the more we dug into it, the more sense it made and the more brilliant it seemed. The short video we created to help get the word out about his invention has been our most watched video by far - amassing a million YouTube hits in the past ten months. So apparently, other people find it pretty interesting too.
Q: Most meaningful?
A: It's hard to pin down a single most meaningful part of the trip. Certainly WWOOFing in Wyoming was very meaningful - getting to dig in the dirt and really be a part of growing our own food. Visiting with Wes Jackson at the Land Institute was an incredibly profound and meaningful experience, as was our time spent with Joel Salatin on his farm in Virginia.
Bob Berkebile's story of turning personal tragedy and disaster into the inspiration for our modern green architecture movement and, by extension, a way to help others (like the people of Greensburg, Kan.) rebuild more wisely in the wake of their own disasters is an incredibly meaningful example of the power of one person to leverage their own pain in the service of humanity.
And of course, the unexpected pregnancy on the trip amplified the meaning of just about everything we encountered and served as a constant reminder of exactly what's at stake as we navigate our way through these challenging times on planet earth.
Q: Most discouraging and/or darkest moment?
A: Covering mountaintop removal (MTR) coal mining in West Virginia was probably the trip's darkest hour. We all went into a depression after that - it was hard to wrap our heads around a country bombing itself in that way. While we had heard about MTR and knew that it was a problem well before we got to West Virginia, nothing could prepare us for seeing it up close and first hand from the air and from the ground. The complete and permanent devastation of an entire region of our country - one of the oldest and most bio-diverse regions on the planet and its uniquely American culture - in the name of a very marginal short-term increase in profits for a few coal barons is an almost unimaginable crime against humanity and nature. The insanity of this practice really hit us hard, and we hope that the film, in some small way, can help end this ongoing environmental and social tragedy once and for all.
Q: Happiest and most fulfilling moment?
A: As a self-professed sunset hound, Ben filmed a lot of sunsets all over the country on the trip which have been fun to relive on film, although Mark ended up filming perhaps the most memorable sunset from the back of a ferry leaving Alaska. The wonderful people that we met all along the way in every corner of the country and the tearful hugs and mutual inspiration that we shared with them has been one of the best things about the experience. And it was especially wonderful when we could use our journey to connect people from different walks of life or different parts of the country who needed each other (but perhaps didn't know it yet) - something that happened a number of times on the trip.
Introducing people all around the country to the solutions and ideas that we've fallen in love with - like Earthships or Solar Roadways - and hearing them get excited and say they want to build an Earthship now or help make Solar Roadways a reality has really been fulfilling. And of course, the journey of the pregnancy and birth, while it was a little challenging for Mark to deal with at the time, has proven in the months and years since to have been one of the most fulfilling moments, not only for Julie and Ben, but of the trip itself in that it really gave the entire experience a new level of depth, meaning, and humanity that it might not have had otherwise.
Q: What do you hope people will take away from the film?
A: We really hope people come away from the film recognizing that the most powerful solutions to the environmental challenges we face happen to also be the most satisfying, nourishing ways to live, and that people are joyfully exploring and sharing those solutions all around the country.
And we hope they recognize that they too have the power of "one" - that none of us has to be any smarter or prettier or richer than we are right now to have an enormous, immediate, and lasting positive impact on our own communities and on the larger world around us - as exemplified by the everyday heroes in the film. That's a pretty empowering idea, when you tap into it.
