I am making my way further north along the Washington coast. Saturday visit to Anacortes (16,000 population 2010) took in farmer’s market, art fair, harbor, seaside and about town bike ride, and mid-day seafood, wine, followed of course by ice cream! Anacortes is known for the Washington State Ferries dock serving Lopez, Shaw, Orcas, and San Juan Islands, as well as Victoria and British Columbia on Vancouver Island.
I have several pictures to share with you that need no description. Check out the two “Free Range Chicks” below I met! It was the name of their team for a local organized run. Don’t we ALL want this T-shirt? I’ll take orders….
I also came across the community sculptor “How Much Longer”, Peregrine O’Gormley, with the following quote on the plaque.
“Mother Earth bends over backwards to accommodate the very increasing weight of humanity. In her grasp she holds the scorched earth. Man’s left hand faces out from the surface. Will we continue to burn up what remains, or can we begin to reverse the cycle? How much longer can She sustain us?”
This brings me to the 150th Anniversary Issue “The Nation” Magazine, April 2015, Section “Radical Futures: Harbingers of change, peeks over the horizon, maps of Utopia – and other struggles for keeping hope alive”. Rebecca Solnit’s “Unpredictable Weather: Forecasting the future is perilous, but we have to believe in change – or at least be willing to gamble”.
I read this early on the gypsy tour, and it has not left me. I share with you some of the parts that most move me.
“Most forecasts of the future presume that something in the present will continue to grow and increase its power of influence. It’s as simple as doing a math problem on compounding interest or multiplication tables….Among few certainties about the future are the following: climate change is here, it will get worse, and it is irreversible. What’s uncertain is whether, through extraordinary effort, we will meet the crisis a we should, with speedy exit from the Age of Fossil Fuel, or whether that age will drag on and foreclose the possibility of our choosing the lest rather than the most terrible future. We are now essentially hostages to a small group of people who benefit most from the fossil-fuel industries, as well as the politicians in their pay – although remarkable victories have been won against them in recent years – from Ecuador to Nigeria to New York State…”
“The next few years will be crucial in steering us toward the least devastating of the futures that await us. It’s hard to see how we will get there, but it’s important to try anyway – and part of that work involves knowing that we don’t know what will happen, what kind of a world we will inhabit in 2020, let alone 2115…You have to be willing to gamble on a world not dominated by fossil fuels and the power that fossil-fuel fortunes give to a handful of people and corporations. You have to be willing to imagine a world in which we recognize that what we’re called upon to do is not necessarily to sacrifice; instead, it’s often to abandon what impoverishes and trivializes our lives; the frenzy to produce and consume in a landscape of insecurity about our individual and collective futures. It also means appreciating the value of many other things – confidence in the future, a greatly reduced fer of contamination or poisoning, economic justice, local engagement, decentralization, democracy – in which weve been poor during the Age of Fossil Fuel. Those are the things we stand to gain if we conquer the fossil-fule industry and reinvent energy in our time…”
“You don’t act because you know what’s going to happen; you act because you don’t. Not knowing is an important part of knowledge. If knowledge is a continent to be mapped, the unknown is the oceans surrounding it…We don’t have a map for any of this, which is what all the confident prophecies of predictable, linear future pretend to offer us. Instead, we have, along with the capacity for effort, a compass called hope: a past that we can see that we can remember, that can guide us along the unpredictable route, along with our commitment to beings now living and yet to be born, that commitment called love.”
For me, this connects to the following poem I wrote in June that I will be reading tonight at the Bellingham library open mic.
The Likes of Me
The likes of me comes charging these days. Side-saddle, one hand parasol, the other reigns. Skirt spread, wings tucked.
My cantor is sweet and light. Hoofs lift, tilt, sweep the air. Click-click. Lift, tilt, sweep. Click-click. Prance, dance.
Of yes, I can gallop, run with the wind. But with new Spring pin-feathers emerging, why not fly?
You see, I use to keep ME to myself. A self-imposed Cynthia lock-down, Cynthia closet.
Too big, and my husband, his family, past friends, were uncomfortable, scared.
Now, there is nothing to lose. It’s time to break all the rules. The planet, this sweet sweet Mother Earth, implores us, to please, please, stop our linear thinking, our engineering constructs, our culture of fear and shame.
Our self-imposed beliefs of limits, a need to horde, consume without end. Until, as with the Buddhist parable of the Hungry Ghosts, we are completely flushed, turned inside out, exposed, RAW.
Come and sit with me; be still. Look in the mirror and say “I love you” again and again and again, every day. Until you see the likeness of God in and through you. Peaceful, joyful, happy.
Then you will know, All Knowing; not just how to be, but a Being of Self, that is not alone, but part of the Divine Frequency of Thought to Form. The power, ease of Transformation, the Manifest.
The Ultimate Substance of Gratitude as your waking thought, your sleeping prayer, your every step.
You see, it’s always been a Gift. Plain and simple.
Clap your hands, raise your arms, spin, twirl.
Yes! Yes! Yes.