The Druid's Garden

Spiritual Journeys in Tending the Land, Permaculture, Wildcrafting, and Regenerative Living

Responding to the Predicament We Face: Planting Seeds and Cultivating Polycultures April 2, 2017

Planting seeds and seeing what grows--part of our own response to the predicament

Planting seeds and seeing what grows–part of our own response to the predicament

On Problems, Predicaments, and Responses

To say that the present post-industrial age has its share of problems is perhaps, at best, an understatement. I think the urgency of the challenges we face been exasperated here in the US by a radically shifting political climate where even basic human decency, access to clean environment, and former structures are breaking down around us at an alarming rate. When looking at these challenges, particularly large-scale environmental ones, we begin to ask “What can we do?” What should we do? How do we solve this problem?” And while some of the issues facing us may well be problems, the larger issue is a much more complex predicament, and that changes the nature of how we respond and what we do. A problem, as John Michael Greer has so cautioned us over a decade ago, has a clear solution. With the threats to human survival and the survival of many other species on this planet, the term “problem” doesn’t quite do it justice. A problem is something like a flat tire: there are a few solutions to fix it (patch it, put on a spare, buy a new tire) and they are fairly limited. Predicaments, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. Predicaments, unlike problems, don’t have clear solutions. They are issues so multifaceted, so interconnected, so complex, that any “solution” fails to address the scope and enormity of it and instead require a large range of responses. John Michael argues that the issues we face in our current age–of the limits of a finite planet, of climate change, of environmental turmoil are predicaments. To respond, we must find our own ways forward, ways of responding, and that a plurality of ways is often necessary. But how do we even begin to respond to that?

 

This is the question that many open-eyed, connected, nature-honoring folks are asking at present: what the heck are we going to do about what is going on? What exactly is going on? What can we do? How can we do it while still providing for our basic needs? How can we thrive in a world that seems to be socially, politically, environmentally and emotionally crumbling?  In fact, almost everyone out there who has any connection at all to the living earth struggles with the disconnection between what it takes to survive in this current world and where their value systems lie and leveraging a response. It is a fact that stares each of us squarely in the face often and powerfully. As I’ve worked my way deeper into my to the problem we face as a species and civilization over the better part of my adult life, I’ve certainly tried my own range of responses.

 

While I believe the most important thing in the end is to respond (rather than ignore the issue) it takes nearly all of us a while to get to the point of having a response we feel good about. I meet druids all the time who are distraught about what is happening and want to do something but don’t have the skills or tools to actually do it, or aren’t sure what to do, or are working through their emotions about it–and feeling guilty all the less for not doing anything. And to them I say, we are not trying to climb Mount Davis (the tallest mountain here in the Laurel Highlands of PA) in one day.  But we can make steps there with each thought and action, and that’s an important part of responding, and working through those steps, and addressing the time that they take, is a big part of what we’ll explore in the remainder of this post today.

 

Polycultures and a Multitude of Responses

Beautiful, cultivated polycultures!

Beautiful, cultivated polycultures!

Any healthy ecosystem is not made up of a single species of plant (monoculture), but a multitude of plants (a polyculture).  We see this in any forest or wild area–you can see thousands of species interacting within a single space and thriving together, often working together to benefit the larger system. Polycultures outperform monocultures in every way: they outproduce them, they offer many different kinds of yields, they offer resiliency, they offer redundancy in the case of a single plant or plant species failing.  Nature loves, and creates, polycultures (and gardeners practicing permaculture do as well!)

 

I think the polyculture metaphor is a great one to help us understand the multitude of responses we need for the predicament we face. My response, my life choices, aren’t yours, and shouldn’t be. Each of us, given our unique circumstances, our sets of skills, or commitments to others, our work lives, and so on, must work to find our own response to add to the larger polyculture of responses.  For some people, their response is retiring to a little piece of land in the country and “pulling out” of broader affairs to live a more simple life. For others, it is activism on the front lines, marching, meeting, demonstrating. For some of us, it is coming together to build something anew. The thing is–there is no right or wrong way to respond.  There are responses.  Some may be more effective than others in the long run. It is with a polyculture of responses that we have a chance at success–for even if one or multiple responses fail, some will succeed and thrive, as we see in an ecosystem.

 

Towards Responding through Thought and Action: Composting and Soil Preparation

In druidry, we understand that the inner realms reflect the outer, and that the outer realms reflect inward.  I believe responses begin within, in the realm of thought, contemplation, and meditation. My first piece of hard-earned advice is this: recognize that this larger predicament is a tremendous amount for a human to process and many of us need a good amount of processing time before finding our own response. This is an important step: our responses will take years, decades, a lifetime to engage with and understand. Part of this thinking process is just working on acceptance of what is happening so that you can respond.  It takes a lot to pull our heads out of this culture, look at the evidence, emotionally and intellectually process it, and decide what to do.  That is critically important work and we need to be kind to ourselves while we are doing it. Sometimes, it is also ok to pause and regroup before barreling forward with what we feel is a correct response. Otherwise, we end up in a place where we’ve thought we’ve made good choices–radically so–and then they turn out to be not as good (or as sustainable or sustaining) as we thought!  Of course, the nature of the predicament and the continued speed at which things are declining makes it hard to give us the time to process and to allow the seed to incubate, leading to guilt, frustration, and more.

 

Like many living in the Northern Hemisphere in the spring months, I have been (physically) planting my seeds for the coming year. Small seeds of St. John’s wort, sacred tobacco, catnip, many veggies, and so many other herbs.  Seeds are so magical: they have so much potential stored up in a little hard shell. As I carefully prepare the soil and push each one in, I am struck by the cycle of life within a seed. I see our own responses to this predicament just like a seed I plant: it needs time for incubation, dormancy, sprouting, and growth–growing seeds are a process, and I think growing responses are too.

 

And so, before we begin to plant the seeds of a response, we must tend to our soil, compost the old, and prepare the ground for new beginnings. I have been in this exact situation for the last two years, and it has at points been very frustrating. Long term blog readers know that I’ve struggled tremendously with my own response to the predicament, and that response has changed over time.  Since I became a druid over a decade ago, it was really important that I *do something* but I wasn’t always sure what that something was. My first “doing something” altered permanently my major long-term relationship at the time (as we were going in different directions with different worldviews).  It led me to owning a homestead in the country and doing everything myself (and eventually burning out, leaving to regroup).  It has taken me down the road of exploring a host of issues surrounding “everyday life”: work-life balance, waste, consumerism, food, family, friendships, and more.  It led me to temporarily “regroup” and explore urban homesteading options and a walkable lifestyle in a small town where I had to reflect, regroup, and work on my next response.

 

And as hard as it has been to feel like I’m doing less than living my full truth as I’ve been in this composting and preparation phase,  I now realize that it has been time well spent. I haven’t done anything radical or big with my life (or finances) that would be hard to undo, but rather, found niches and small things I could do while I was in this “dormant” period with my larger life goals. I’ve lived simply, walked to work, did a lot of wildtending, weed walking, spent a ton of time studying and building my oak knowledge and reskilling, reconnected with my ancestral land, engaged my community in plant walks, herbalism, worked on a lot of my own writing and artistic projects, did a lot of small-scale urban homesteading that I could do…all while really contemplating my choices. I learned a lot, a grew a lot, but I also felt very “unsettled” as I was focused only on the small things and on not doing the things I felt I really needed to do. I felt like I wasn’t doing enough.  Now, I realize that A) I was doing a lot more good work than I thought I was and B) this time to regroup and contemplate was necessary.  Making a choice too soon would have actually hampered my long-term goals (although I couldn’t have possibly known that a year ago!)

 

Time to do some composting!

Time to do some composting!

I think a lot of us find ourselves in this place, and it can be a frustrating place to be.  Its a mix of things: wanting to do something, but not being sure what we can or should do, and feeling increasing pressure to do something quickly given all that is happening in the broader world.  It kind of makes you feel like you want to explode! If you find yourself here, waiting and dormant, remember that this is part of your response, part of your work, and it is a very important part.

 

I think this “incubation” time has been a very difficult time for me in many ways: not being on land, and being rooted in a specific piece of property where I could explore has left me feeling really disconnected, unsure of my path forward, and yet, it has also allowed me to be in a space of new possibilities. And that’s what’s so powerful about these transitory times: they are unsettling, and net, incredibly powerful. Anything can happen, anything that you can dream up might occur. You don’t have a clear path forward, but you have an ample amount of hope and possibility.  In the Tarot, the “tower” is an incredibly difficult place to be: the structures we have aren’t working (societally and personally) and given that, they must come down, and the dust must settle before we are to see the way forward.

 

Planting the Seeds of a Response

The next phase in the journey of a seed and the journey of our own responses to the larger predicament is that period of planting. This is a huge transition: the period between thinking about responding and beginning to respond (even if the efforts themselves haven’t yet been seen).  The move towards some action, however, small, is incredible. We have already tended the soil and done our composting work–and now, we plant the seeds and wait for them to sprout. Incubation can also be a difficult period of time. I know after I’ve planted seeds, the hardest thing is waiting–seeing if they will germinate. Sometimes they don’t, and then we have to plant again, or plant different seeds, or change something about the conditions under which we plant them (heat mat, light exposure, cold stratification, scarification, etc.).  Sometimes seeds require fire to sprout–burning away the old and creating fertile soil.  Some seeds are simply harder to start than others–but well worth the extra effort and cultivation.

 

Planting the seeds is the critical difference between thought and action.  In the end, as I’ve argued on this blog, it is our actions that count–it is our actions that help us enact change, live in harmony, and come up with an effective range of responses.

 

Germination, Growth and Change

And then, the magic happens.  After an indefinate period of incubation, the seed we have planted comes out of dormancy and the spark of life, nwyfre, flows. The seed sprouts, and life is born. The beautiful, tender sprout emerges from the soil and you can continue the careful work of cultivating this seed into an incredible healing and nourishing plant. And yet, seeds are so fragile–once that sprout emerges, it can so quickly dry up, or rot, or not have enough life.  Part of what we must do is ensure that we tend the seed as carefully as possible during the early stages of any response.

 

Today, as this post is scheduled to be released at my normal Sunday morning posting time, the seed is sprouting for what could possibly be my greatest life’s work. After my two year period of composting and dormancy while I regrouped, I have made some very powerful and empowering decisions and had a series of things occur to set me on the path towards intentional community. I’ve decided to transition away from solo living and trying to do things on my own and move towards living in community, with the larger goal of co-ownership of a large piece of land where we build an intentional community based on regeneration, nature spirituality, and permaculture principles. This is a big vision, and yet, the first seed of that vision is sprouting today. Today, I am moving to a new place to live in our small town, and in that move, the seeds of this very community are being planted and sprouting. The first phase of our larger project is a three-pronged effort (because druids always do it in threes) to establish a community, permaculture center, and farm a small piece of land together while we work on acquiring our larger piece of land and figuring out what the nature of our larger community will be.

Yes! Seeds have sprouted!

Yes! Seeds have sprouted!

 

And so, we’ll be working in three directions.  We will be:

  • Reducing our ecological footprint and pursuing earth-honoring practices: this includes downsizing our own stuff and space requirements to live in a community of people in a smaller space, practicing various kinds of earth-honoring living, thus reducing consumption in many ways
  • Expanding community outreach and education through establishing a permaculture center in downtown Indiana, PA, that hosts classes, activities, and community events (like our first permaculture meetup that happened two weeks ago!)
  • Learning to live and grow together, both in our space in the downtown area, but also through a collaborative project growing a food forest on a small plot of land outside of town (we see this like our “sandbox” before we acquire the larger piece of land).

It is in this move today that we can start to explore things like consensus decision making, governance structures, co-ownership, and learn how to live in a smaller space with less stuff and more joy. For me, in the coming months and years, we’ll see if the seeds sprouted today is the one that will grow into an incredible food forest or if they will be learning experiences that will continue to guide my path. In between posts on all things permaculture and druidry, I’ll be sharing the story of our own growth of this community and some of the things we are doing.

 

Seeing those first seeds spring forth is a joyous occasion–but also a terrifying one.  As I have worked to see this come about, I have had to counter my own fear and rethink my own assumptions along every step of the way.   Of course, there is a part of me that is afraid, that fears change, that just wants to keep things the same as they are.  But ethical, sacred responses require us to set aside our fears and let the awen flow from within.  Remember, the problem is the solution!  I wish you each well upon your journeys of preparing the soil, planting the seeds, cultivating the sprouts, and eventually, tending those wild food forests!

 

On the Importance of Mentoring in Spiritual Life: In Honor of my Mentors September 21, 2014

Through the trees

Through the trees

Earlier this year, someone who had been a mentor to me for almost 10 years (almost 1/3 of my life) passed on very unexpectedly.  She was my academic mentor, the person who nurtured me and supported me through my entire Ph.D. and beyond as I became an assistant professor seeking tenure. Despite the fact that this blog is really about spirituality and sustainable practice, I think her lessons are important, and mentoring takes many forms, spiritual mentoring being one form.

 

I have always tried very hard to honor my mentors, to recognize their investment in my life, and to do the best work I can do to manifest their teachings and guidance in my life in positive and productive ways.  Still, looking back, I wonder if I said “thank you” enough to my mentor who passed on, or if she really understood what she meant to me and the others who she mentored. In honor of her passing, I want to spend some time discussing the role of the mentor, and honoring that role, both to honor of my mentor who recently passed on and for the mentors who are still in my life–you know who you are :).

 

Gardening is a good metaphor for a mentor, either in life, work, or in spiritual life.  In their early roles, a mentor is someone who takes a look at the soil you plan on growing something in, and says, “oh my, you don’t have nearly enough organic matter and nitrogen in this soil for anything to grow–yet. Here’s how you might get some more.”  And when you select your plants, let’s say, tomatoes, they may say, “Well, tomatoes require a lot more calcium than you currently have in your soil–what can you do about that?”  Or, “You know, this garden is really shady.  Tomatoes won’t do well here at all.  What else might you plant?” The work of the sowing of the seeds, of fruiting and growth is, of course, your own.  But a mentor might be there to help you prune away those non-producing water spouts from the tomato vines, and they are certainly there to provide trellising and support as needed. Could the plant grow without the mentor? Certainly, but it might not produce as much fruit, and it might be laying on the ground rather than standing tall for lack of support.

 

Mentors are the people who really help us see beyond ourselves, to open up new worlds, encourage us, and nurture us and help us grow.  Mentoring not always an easy task and its not always a pleasant one, however–for a good mentor is not only someone who nurtures and supports, but also is there to prune and tell us the harsh truths that we might not want to hear.  And the best mentors know that both praise and constructive criticism are necessary for growth–if we are only told what we want to hear, we live in a world of delusion.  Sometimes firm words to set us back on our true path are critically important. Mentors help us back on our paths with firm and gentle guidance.

 

Trees

So much to learn from the trees!  They too can be teachers and mentors.

I also think good mentoring is a careful process of knowing exactly how much to help, how much to let the person stumble and fall and learn on their own, and how to provide the right amount of support.  Its a delicate balancing act.  Mentors also recognize that different kinds of people require different kinds of mentoring–I happen to be a rather independent person who doesn’t like others to have too much control over my life.  My best mentors have always realized this and have taken a hands-off approach to working with me, allowing me to come to them when support or advice was needed rather than crowding me.  But others who work much differently may require much more hands on support and guidance; a good mentor recognizes how much support to give.

 

I think about those who have mentored me in my spiritual path, and I realize how important spiritual mentoring is.  Many druid paths are solitary ones, where we practice and learn on our own.  And while this is an extremely useful practice (and something I did for many years), finding mentors who supported me, suggested resources, and opened up worlds to me really helped me develop and grow in new ways.  Sometimes there is only so far one can get on one’s own, and even only a few key conversations or resources can really help one grow.  This is part of why I value mentoring so highly–I’ve seen its effects in my life both from those I mentor and from those who mentor me.

 

As a mentor, I believe its important to see yourself  in both the role of a teacher and that of a learner–you have to recognize that you have as much to learn as you do to teach.  I also have found that the best mentoring relationships are those that are rooted in friendship and mutual respect.  In the best mentoring relationships, I learn as much from those I mentor as they learn from me.  As a mentor, I might know more than they do about a particular subject and have a greater amount of experience, but my mentees always have new things to say, new approaches, and unique perspectives that add to my own knowledge.  This is the case in every kind of mentoring I do, whether its academic mentoring, garden mentoring, or spiritual mentoring.  And think this is also the case for those that mentor me.

 

And even though I often find myself in a mentoring role in my spiritual, professional, and personal lives, I am so grateful to those who take their time to build mentoring relationships and friendships with me.  If you haven’t yet taken an opportunity to thank your mentors recently and show your appreciation, perhaps you could take a moment to do so soon.  You never know how long they will be in your life–please do not take them for granted.

 

Music, Growing, and Land Healing March 2, 2012

Filed under: Growth,Music — Dana @ 10:06 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

I wanted to take this time to blog a bit about plants, healing energies, music–yes–music.  I use music a lot in my gardening and spiritual work. I play a number of flutes, including the panflute, wooden bamboo flutes, and various ocarinas, although the panflute is my favorite.

Lovely orchid--lives indoors, listens to flute music often!

Research on Music and Plant Growth

Researchers from across the globe have demonstrated that certain kinds of music are beneficial to plant growth — jazz and classical–to name a few. These researchers report increases in plant yeild, better resistances to disease or pests, and faster growth overall (Milstein; Belton; Smith; Singh; Retallack).  Not all music is beneficial to plants, however–Dorothy Retallack found that rock music (as opposed to classical) was detrimental to her plant’s health.  But when she played indian classical and western classical music, the plants actually leaned inward towards the sound!  Some researchers believe its the sonic waves that the plants are sensing–but whatever it is, many forms of music are wonderful for your plants.

Music and Seedlings

Left - Ocarina that was a gift; right: Grand Tenor panpiples

I’m starting my seedlings this week and I make it a point every day to play my panflute for them, even if its only for a few minutes. I use my flutes often in my spiritual healing work, so I find them to be excellent tools for spiritual gardening. As music is a bardic art, it reaches into the depths of our beings when we hear it.  Perhaps this same–or a similar effect–is happening with those seedlings!

Seedling-Garden Growth Songs

When I’m playing for plants (indoor, outdoor garden, or wild), I often do improv.  I focus on my connection with the plants and playing the tunes that they give me and/or want to hear.  I have discovered many new tunes that way, and a whole series of “growing” songs that I will try to share here someday.

Music and Healing the Land

More generally, I use music as a primary form of land healing work.  What I have found is that people look strangely at the druid calling peace in the quarters or waffling around with some incense (especially when I feel lead to do healing in a populated place, as I often am). But nobody really thinks twice about someone walking along, playing a flute song.  So because of that, I have built music into my energy and spiritual work–and it has worked wonderfully.  You can still call the quarters, or send energy outward, but doing it in song instead of through words is a wonderful change.  While the practice of energy work through song has taken practice, it has been rewarding.

Different kinds of healing requires different kinds of flutes, I have found.  That’s part of why I have a number of flutes.  My panflutes, with their large scales, are excellent at recreating songs that I have written for specific purposes.  Old celtic songs, new celtic songs, etc.  But playing a specific song may require more mental energy than I have to give if my mind is focused on the healing at hand.  This is where the  small bamboo improv flutes come in–I never have to think about it when I play them because everything I play (on a pentatonic or modified pentatonic scale) sounds wonderful.  This is especially useful for intensive energy work or during rituals.

Finding Flutes

Shrine of flutes on my mantle!

Most flutes, especially wooden ones, are very reasonably priced for musical instruments.  You don’t need to drop hundreds or thousands of dollars to have a nice instrument that you wan use to work with plants.

If you want to do improv but are a little unsure of where to start, I would suggest purchasing one of Erik the Flutemaker’s improv flutes.  They are very reasonably priced and I’ve been very happy with my flutes from him.  I have a Vivaldi Minor and a Jiahu Crane Flute–both of which I love! (As an aside, I find Erik’s flutes very “fiery” because he uses a hot iron to burn the finger holes in, leaving behind this wonderful campfire smell which you get every time you play…)

If you are interested in panflutes, I purchased both of mine from Brad White’s Panflute Shop.  I have his Grand Tenor panflute (three full octaves) and a set of pocket pipes (1.5 octaves).  I love them both very much and the pocket pipes go with me just about everywhere!  The Grand Tenor panpipe is the most expensive flute I own, however, it is also by far the most versitile, allowing me to play anything that regular/orchestral flute can play.

I recently purchased two ocarinas from STL Ocarina.  I still can’t play them very well.  The smaller ocarnia  fits perfectly in my crane bag and can go everywhere with me (in ways none of my other flutes can).  I also purchased a larger 12 hole ocarina that will take some time and dedication to learn.