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La Perfeccion

My Honduran neighbor buys a Hummer and washes it every day. Lovingly, he strokes it with the finest lint-free chamois, applying layers of special chemicals to every gleaming surface. He decides to cut down down the silver maple next to the driveway to prevent pollen from coating it and to keep it safe from robin droppings. He removes the tires weekly, to clean the brake pads and axles. After double cafeteria shifts required by the payments he sits in his garage beside the car and lets it idle,...

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Guest Post: Moon & Stars

I’m so grateful to my friend Wendy for agreeing to let me post this wonderful piece on my blog. You can learn more about Wendy on her website.     By Wendy Robertson Fyfe I look up to Orion, constellation on the surface of the Universe. It is a clear, sharp winter’s night. Sparkles glisten in the dark and as l stare, l am drawn in….drawn in to a memory and felt sense of star within me….a human star carried in the core of our bones and flesh, along with the Universal song from...

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Anxiety, Apathy and Choice

The other day I watched a talk by Renee Lertzman, a researcher and consultant who works on how to communicate effectively around the environmental crisis. Her approach has to do with using insights and tools from psychoanalysis and psychotherapy to support people in experiencing their complex and often conflicting feelings around these troubling issues. I noticed that Joanna Macy was in the audience where Lertzman was speaking and her work was frequently given the nod. Even so, the challenge...

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Six

There is a way she has of lying down behind me when I sit out on the lawn that is both invitation and request. I reach back and plow my fingers through the arctic fur to work the muscles in her neck. She presses a blunt white paw into my ribs for leverage and the fire in her hazel eye sparks and smolders. We remember the land bridge. The crossing we made together. And we confirm anew this old, mammalian pledge of fang and thumb. This co-dependence of six legs....

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Switching the Bubbles

I’m hearing a soft, flat whistle from somewhere in front of me, but it’s impossible to tell exactly which direction. Seep! Followed by silence. Something is making the birds anxious enough that they will no longer reveal their location. Later when we go inside, Jon Young explains that what I heard was a robin alarming. This particular call is strategically difficult to pinpoint. As he pieces together observations from others in the group, a pattern emerges. The alarms and subsequent wave of...

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