Swan Sanctuary

The problem of plastic bags is one example of how we seem to have taken two steps back, in an effort to eliminate what is a huge problem in our modern world. When I was growing up, groceries were bagged in large brown paper bags. When the cheaper plastic bags came on the scene, customers were generally asked if they preferred paper or plastic. Most people did not care. Those who were concerned about the decimation of forests would opt for the plastic. It came down to which was the lesser of two evils. I have never liked the plastic bags and I was annoyed when the clerk did not bother to ask, but proceeded to place my items in the plastic bag.

As time progressed, customers were encouraged to buy and use their own bags (with the store’s logo, of course). I have used these bags for years, but I have found what works best, is the paper bags, doubled to make them stronger. I can reuse these multiple times and when they finally begin to wear out, I use them to recycle paper products. The problem with the typical reusable bag is that they do become dirty over time. They can be wiped out; but eventually they wear out and end up in the landfill along with the many plastic bags that never get recycled.

The millions of plastic bags that are typically used are so inefficient that I am amazed so many people tolerate them. They tear easily and fall over, often allowing your groceries to fall right out of them. Since most of the products we buy are packaged in square boxes and containers, the brown paper bags and the “bring your own” type bags are more suitable. It is far easier to pack these items into the square bottomed bags and they hold three or four times as much.

I was happy when they created the self-checkout isles, so that I could bag my own groceries. The store where I currently shop does not have self-checkout and I continue to be amazed that so many people with the job of bagging groceries don’t have a clue as to how to do it. They often put all of my heavy items in one bag so that it is difficult to lift and I frequently find my bananas and lettuce squashed at the bottom.

My daughter, who lives in Colorado, has told me that the stores there will not allow people to bring their own bags for fear that the virus will be transferred by the bags. It seems that the fear created by this pandemic has caused many people to toss out common sense. If this is what they are afraid of, then they should simply allow people to bag their own groceries. This continued use of plastic bags has really got to stop. I am tired of seeing it hanging up in trees and collected in gutters. People have managed for centuries without these hideous plastic bags. It is time to reconsider what we actually deem as necessary to life.

String trimmers, better known as weed eaters, eat more than just weeds. They are usually operated by hands that know nothing about plants. It is just one more of man’s useless and ridiculous inventions made to control his environment. They are something that I detest even more than the prolific use of herbicides and pesticides. They are every bit as noisy as lawn mowers, rototillers, and the thousands of other motors that require gas and oil to run. They make electric ones, but if landscaping and gardening were done with even a modicum of common sense, it would be seen that they are entirely unnecessary. String trimmers, like a bomb in a war zone, are not selective about what they decimate. Anything taller than a couple of inches is certain to be destroyed. Any native flowers that may have been struggling to survive are wiped out every time they poke their heads above ground.

I have seen all too often, the demise of trees that have had their bark injured by string trimmers. In a short time insects and disease move in where the protective bark has been slashed open and the tree begins its slow decline. The weeds that crop up in the all too often used rock, that is prevalent in landscaping, are either weed- eated or sprayed profusely with Roundup®. The resulting carnage of plants is anything but esthetically pleasing to the eye. It doesn’t take a college degree to realize that using a string trimmer on weeds only makes them grow back stronger.

I have been digging beneath and on both sides of the chain link fence that encompasses my garden. Before I began making my garden, it was a huge rectangle of grass, dotted with a lot of bindweed and garlic mustard. There is no room in my life for monocultures of green grass. It offers nothing to wildlife and frankly, I find it boring. The garden beds that I am making along the fence perimeters will be a polyculture of climbing plants, annual and perennial flowers, with some herbs tucked in here and there. Within the rectangle of approximately 1200 square feet, I have created three large hügelkultur beds. They, too, will be filled with flowers, herbs, and vegetables. The areas along the fence will be heavily mulched, preventing most of the weeds and grass from returning. The remaining areas will be mulched paths for walking around and working in the growing areas. I get my mulch from the recycle center where it is given away free to residents. I can include stepping stones at a later time, if I choose. I will eventually work my way out from the fenced area, adding evergreens for the birds, as well as more shrubs – especially those with berries that birds love. There will be no areas at all that require a string trimmer!

If homeowners were required to send all of their plant debris to the recycle center where they turn it into mulch, that mulch could be used on the many public areas where poor attempts at landscaping have been implemented. Instead of paying cheap labor to go around with string trimmers, they could ensure that at least a five inch layer of mulch was maintained around all plantings and the laborers time could be better spent pulling the few weeds by hand, which in time, would eradicate them. Even herbicides do not permanently destroy weeds, so the bad chemicals must be sprayed time and time again. Gardening organically is easy. It is, needless to say, healthier for the planet and for us. We just need to stop supporting the billion dollar corporations that keep making things we do not need.

What is normal? Normal is whatever the patterns of our habitual thinking consider to be normal. In essence, it is indefinable because it is subject to as many different interpretations as there are people. Within our definition of normal, we must take into account customs and habits that have been unique to us personally, or within our family, or our community. The idea of normal is an illusion because life is ever changing.

When a custom or habit maintains its place for a long time, we tend to become complacent. It is easy to fall into the trap of feeling comfortable; then when we least expect it, our comfort zone is upended. We resist the changes whether they happen suddenly, or over a short period of time. We can become paralyzed with fear when our normal is threatened; then we retreat, or fight against that which has thrown cold water in the face of our illusory normalcy.

We have all heard on the news that in light of the recent pandemic we must accept a “new normal”. The truth is that our normal is always being tweaked here or there and metamorphosing little by little. When the changes happen slowly we are less apt to notice them. We generalize; or we become focused on some small thing and don’t bother to look up at the bigger picture. We savor special moments, but our mistake is in wanting to prolong those moments. We overlook the more mundane events, clinging to the past or hoping for an unforeseeable future. When we realize that normal is whatever is happening in this moment, we cease to try and mold the future into a predictable scenario. The most normal thing we can do is to accept right now just as it is; to know that the next moment will take care of itself. My grandmother taught me a song when I was a young girl that was sung by Doris Day. The lyrics are just as appropriate today as they were then. “Que sera, sera – Whatever will be will be. The future’s not ours to see. Que sera, sera.”  Normal is only this moment.

Many people swear that eating a good breakfast is the key to a successful life. Maybe it is just that whatever we become accustomed to eating during our formative years, stays with us. Personally, I could not possibly face eggs and bacon until mid-morning at the earliest. My motto has always been to eat dessert first. This may sound flippant, but I assure you, I am not obese and I am exceptionally healthy. I make all of my own meals and breads – and I eat salads nearly every day. I do not eat candy other than organic dark chocolate. A homemade dessert or a piece of pie tastes far better in the morning with a cup of coffee, than it does when I am already satiated from a big meal and my test buds need a rest. Whenever I have eaten out at a restaurant, I am too full for dessert, so I like to get a “to go” box and eat it for breakfast the next morning. This is something that I do only occasionally and surely, it is no worse than those people who eat donuts and sweet rolls every morning, followed by fast food for lunch.

I have followed the Buddhist teaching of the “middle way” for most of my life. I listen to my body and it tells me what to eat. If I have a craving for a particular food, I know that I am in need of the nutrient that food provides. When I feel full, I stop eating. If I eat cookies, I limit myself, usually to two. I do not count calories or become obsessed with fat or protein content. I have not owned a bathroom scale for more than forty years. If my clothes become uncomfortably snug, I cut down on my food intake and exercise more. I do not diet. If I were to try dieting, it would have a reverse effect and I would gain weight simply because knowing that I cannot have something, causes me to want it that much more. I verged on anorexia during my first marriage. My husband at the time threatened to leave me if I ever became fat. I realized later that it was actually my mother who instilled this fear in me. My sister had large bones and was built like my “fat” grandmother. My mother constantly chastised my sister for being overweight. I wonder how many people who suffer from obesity and diabetes have inherited these problems from family members. Eating habits are developed from the moment we are born, and eating, along with water and air, are essential to our survival.

Obesity seems to be more prevalent in those places where there is an over-abundance of food. Sadly, there is an alarmingly large amount of “non-foods” available for low cost and free to the poor and struggling minorities. These are the people who are suffering the most with medical problems directly related to the foods that they consume. They may be filling their bellies, but they remain starved nutritionally and emotionally. The fear of hunger can thrust these people into a lifetime of poor eating habits that are difficult to change. I eat mostly organic foods – even my desserts!  I garden organically and raise my chickens and my pets on organic foods, as well. I no longer worry about the cost. I have created the habit of eating well and I would rather eat less and eat nutritiously, than eat those things that will ultimately compromise my health. We are what we eat, and creating good eating habits is vital, not only to our own bodies; it is vital to every living thing on this planet.

I have been waiting for the average last frost date to arrive with as much anticipation as a kid waiting for Christmas. With only a short four month growing season, I am anxious to get my seedlings into the ground in order to give them a head start. The warmer weather should be arriving on Sunday with temps reaching near 80°F. I have already spent the better part of the past two months creating hügelkultur beds and preparing the soil to receive plants and seeds. I have had to begin again so many times, in new places. I long to stay in an area long enough to achieve the reward of being able to harvest asparagus, to plant fruit trees and berries, and to create living fences and hedge rows. Even while I know that life is ever-changing and impermanent, I long for stability and the opportunity to know that at last, I am home.

I have learned that it is easier to simply accept what the current moment may bring. Will I be here a year from now to enjoy the beautiful perennials that I am planting now? Will I be able to see bulbs that I will plant in the fall, pushing their heads up through next winter’s snow? Will I have the opportunity to see the fruits of my labors for more than one short season? How many more years can I put my body through such tremendous hardship in order to create a space that is more beautiful than I found it? When the pain in my hands and my shoulders and back is screaming for my attention, how much longer can I ignore their cries? I am driven. I am driven to co-create with nature; I am driven to return habitat to the many other species that have struggled in this human world of concrete.

I promise to be good to myself when the difficult digging is done. I will hang out my hammock and actually lie in it, watch the clouds and rest a bit. I will remember to take the time to simply be in my garden where I can observe and enjoy its beauty. I will sit and drink lemonade and walk barefoot in the soil. I won’t think about tomorrow or next month or next year. I will stop and be grateful as my old and weary bones absorb the sultry warmth of the sun.

It seems that for every three steps forward, we take two back. Or, perhaps we take four steps back. I am often dismayed that the giant strides made in the 1960’s and 1970’s have been undermined by large corporate interests. My children were born at home, with midwives – the way that babies have come into the world for centuries. I did not immunize my children, knowing that our bodies are innately intelligent and that a strong immune system was the key to maintaining optimal health. I believed at that time that the world was finally coming to its senses. Women would go back to birthing their babies at home and breast feeding them. We could sign a waiver indicating that we did not wish to vaccinate our children. Roe versus Wade provided for women’s right to choose. It was a time of hope for women, for children, and for a life free from governmental controls. Slowly, but surely, we were releasing the stranglehold that men and churches have had over us for two thousand years.

There is concern by some, that all citizens may be required to receive a vaccination for Covid19, regardless whether the vaccine actually prevents anything. We all know that viruses mutate and that vaccines are less than 50% effective. People are often made ill by the vaccines themselves. Walgreens that sit on every major street corner in America stands to profit billions of dollars. Are we going to just sit at home and allow Big Pharma to dictate our lives? Scientists are working on creating a chip to insert in every person, to track us and ensure that we comply with the wishes of the controlling wealth. (Thank you, Bill Gates, for using your billions to keep the general public ignorant and compliant.) I am concerned. I am suspicious and distrusting of our government and of the media. After all, millions of people were kept in the dark while millions of Jews were being slaughtered in concentration camps.

We need to remain alert to what is actually happening in our world. We must be prepared to fight for our inalienable rights, should the threat of losing them, become a concern. But it is bigger even than our own existence here. Every species, every plant and animal, our water, our air, and our soil are affected by the wealth that is controlling the world. It is time to take another stride forward. We must remain vigilant to those things that threaten not only women’s rights and humanity, but the entire world. The modern world has been built with a faulty foundation; where humans were seen as separate from nature, rather than as part of it. Our present world was created from hollow greed. The foundation is about to crumble. We must take a stride that is large enough to leap over the sinkhole, which has been left in the wake of industrialism. We must rebuild with a foundation of integrity, honesty, and justice. We must become the steps for younger generations to climb, in humanity’s infinite evolutionary spiral.

The day before, in the late afternoon, I was working in my yard when I glanced up to see a Rose-breasted grosbeak sipping water from the birdbath. It took my breath away, not only by its striking colors, but my shear surprise at seeing it. This sighting lasted only for about five seconds, as I had taken a couple of steps closer for a better look, when it flew off. I watched and hoped to see it again. This morning, around 7:15, I saw it at my feeders. It appeared unable to reach the sunflower seed, which is in a squirrel-proof feeder (a tube feeder with a cage around it). It is a rather large bird, being in the same family as cardinals. I had just ordered a new tube feeder (not squirrel proof) yesterday and I was wishing that I had it already. This time I was able to view the bird for a couple of minutes through my binoculars and it spent some time foraging on the ground around the feeders; although I had not yet sprinkled seed around as I do each morning.

I do not believe the Rose-breasted grosbeak is a resident here. I was privileged to see it, knowing that it was most likely just passing through on its migration northeast to its summer breeding grounds. Nature can delight us in so many ways if we are observant. I am anticipating the caterpillars and butterflies that will hopefully visit my garden when it gets growing. I love finding caterpillars and then trying to figure out which butterfly or moth that they will later become. I am thrilled whenever I discover a bird’s egg, a bird’s nest, a praying mantis egg case, or a baby snake (non-venomous). Each morning as I sit here at my desk, a young squirrel sits or naps on one of the lower branches in the tree, oblivious to my presence behind the window. Each morning I put peanuts out on the deck railing so the blue jays can snatch them one by one. I hope to plant some evergreen here, as well as berries and perhaps a fruit tree, or two. I know the more inviting I can make my small habitat; the more species will drop in or even take up permanent residence.  

Every day there is something amazing to see, or to hear. Somewhere in the bible it talks about becoming as a child. To be filled with awe and enchantment and to feel enraptured within your soul, feels like a flower opening up to the brilliance of a new day. To greet the morning with a sense of expectation, knowing that it will contain unexpected gifts, is to live with the innocence and purity of a child.

In Stillness Speaks, Eckhart Tolle writes, “True intelligence operates silently. Stillness is where creativity and solutions to problems are found.” In Question Everything, I implore my readers to “never stop questioning.” Over the past couple of months many people have been forced into stillness, involuntarily. They have been made to slow the pace of their busy lives so that instead of being stuck in traffic, they are stuck at home where they must come face to face with themselves. For some, the disbelief and the fear have yielded to questioning. There has never been an opportunity like this before, for a great number of people to question what is truly important. Those who have been willing to shut off their televisions and be with the stillness are learning how to access infinite intelligence.

Many are questioning what we are being told and what exactly, we should believe. Information that hints of something malignant in our government is being taken down as quickly as it goes up. Those who might shed light or reveal truth about the motives behind this pandemic, are silenced. If we question the necessity for enforced restrictions, we are labeled conspiracy theorists. I am not a conspiracy theorist; however, there are numerous things that make no sense, so I am questioning a lot of things at this time.

Throughout history, those with great power have been the cause of suffering for millions. Eventually, those powers succumb to a great fall. People can only be suppressed for a time and when they have had enough, they rise up and demand change. Let’s take advantage of the stillness that has been given to us. Let’s use these quiet moments to seek understanding and truth about this situation. Let’s ask the questions that must be asked and seek the answers; and may the answers which come forth, do no harm.

It is miserably cold and overcast this morning. I am fine with overcast; but the cold has never been a friend of mine. My patience is wearing thin as I wait for the weather to be nice enough to plant seedlings out in the garden. I long for the day when I can at last wear sleeveless tops and not have to remember coat, scarf, hat, and gloves before heading out the door. Even the leaves on the trees are reluctant to appear this year. This is so unlike last year, when Mother’s Day was celebrated outdoors under the canopy of a crabapple in full bloom.

I know that complaining is simply a waste of energy. It is only my thoughts about this situation that are causing me unhappiness – frustration, really, and irritation, because I cannot change what is. This, too, shall pass. Even though I understand this, I garner a certain satisfaction, indulging in just a few minutes of my own pity party. The birds and the squirrels do not seem to mind the weather. They simply go about the business of eating and caring for their young as though they have not a care in the world. In truth, they do not have a care. And, neither do I.

This is one moment among infinite moments. My life is one life among infinite lives. When I am dead, I will have been forgotten in a hundred years. Learning to accept our insignificance and our nothingness is the key to finding joy in the sunless days, like finding a pearl hidden in a shell. All of the small irritants and frustrations that I have come up against during my life, have slowly worn away my rough edges and sculpted a smooth center within my soul, which is now capable  of reflecting light. I think this is referred to as pearls of wisdom.

The relationship that we have with our children evolves over time. If we have had a conscious birth, the bonding between mother and child begins instantly. In many cases, a mother establishes a relationship with her child while she is still in utero. The earliest months, though often fraught with interrupted sleep and sometimes fussy or colicky babies, are for the most part, a joyous time. Parents are thrilled as each milestone is reached – smiling, crawling, walking, and talking. As a child approaches the toddler stage, her individuality and personality begin to come forth. During adolescence, the parent’s role is one of guidance and discipline. When the child reaches puberty, they can often become strangers, even to themselves. Slowly, but surely, they begin to navigate their way into adulthood. When the child heads out on their own, either on to college or their own apartment, or even marriage, the parent must let go. Their role of guide and protector has come to an end. Depending on those formative years, the ongoing relationship between parent and child will either begin to mature, or deteriorate into estrangement.

Oftentimes, even while raising their own children, parents are still growing and learning, themselves. It has been said that nearly every family is dysfunctional, but that is a modern term much too readily applied to anyone who is facing challenges. The truth is, life is hard. Parents want to shield their children from pain and difficulty, but it is those very difficulties that help them to grow. I have learned through the years, and I might add, often the hard way, I cannot fix the messes that my children have created for themselves. I have come to realize that simply loving them and praying for them and being a listening presence, is the greatest gift that I can give them.

Helping my children to grow into healthy and happy adults was one of the most difficult tasks that I have faced. The rewards; however, have finally arrived. In this unexpected revelation, I realized that I have helped my daughters to hone their own special gifts. I had always tried to heed the wisdom of Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet: “…You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth…” In recent years I have come to know my daughters as friends, as soul sisters among my other women friends. It has only been recently and now that my daughters are becoming grandmothers themselves, that I am able to have deeper conversations with them. Subjects that never would have been broached with them in the past are now out in the open between us. They have taught me that I no longer need to harbor the shame or guilt that my mother’s and my grandmother’s generations took to the grave. We can talk about spirituality, god, gardening, politics, men…

When they were babies, our hearts and souls connected as tiny seeds in the soft, warm earth. Now after years of nurturing those seeds, we can raise our faces together, towards the sun.