on Dogma

the internet is supposed to host and foster a diversity of ideas. this seems to be true for the early stages of a discussion, when an issue is raw and an authoritative take has yet to be established. 

but conversations seem to become more polarized once buzzwords are exchanged and hashtags develop. these social tools sure can amplify long-neglected and silenced voices, but they can also crowd out divergent views. must it be that the overturning of each dogma lends momentum to the coalescing of a new one?

on Ecological Intelligence

I've started to read Daniel Goleman's Ecological Intelligence. that it's written by a psychologist proper and not a trade journalist is very attractive to me (sorry, journalists) - I anticipate less hyperbole and more substance.

just a few pages in so far, but this bit stood out:

Today's threats demand that we hone a new sensibility, the capacity to recognize the hidden web of connections between human activity and nature's systems and the subtle complexities of their intersections. This awakening to new possibilities must result in a collective eye opening, a shift in our most basic assumptions and perceptions, one that will drive changes in commerce and industry as well as in our individual actions and behaviors. (p. 43)

italics mine. I love this couple of sentences, and it makes sense coming form the guy who brought concepts like emotional and social intelligences to public awareness. but I have to pick on him calling this required capacity a "new sensibility," because such a cognitive ability is hardly new - indeed, it's as old as time. our ability to represent complicated interconnectivity in our minds is partly why we are the species we are today.

the trouble, of course, is this very facet of our intellectual development is being abandoned at the alter of the artifacts produced by other parts of our minds. what I mean here is that our sensitivity to ecological complexity (where "ecology" refers to our actual surroundings, tangible or abstract, manmade or natural) was developed to survive. and it has enabled us to reach the human heights we enjoy as a species.

but now we are neglecting that intelligence in favor of the fruits of industry. humans still exercise the sensibility Goleman praises but only so far as it results in gadgetry and convenience.

as I read more in the book I may find that Goleman recommends that we augment our minds through Big Data shared widely, thereby making abstract data available to our senses. perhaps if we could perceive what eight tons of CO2 looked like or felt like we'd drive less. maybe if we could envision how many sea otters became entangled in the plastic holders of 6-packs we'd observe due diligence in cutting up each cell before disposing of it.

my examples here are intentionally trite and superficial, but despite that I am not intending to argue none of it is enough. rather, I am considering that perhaps we don't need aggregated numbers and transparency campaigns. and perhaps we don't even need a "new sensibility." I think what we need--what I sure need--is to give my age-old sensibility a change to re-emerge.

I like to think about ecological restoration. how about restoring the ecology of my own mind? maybe then I will be better prepared to more responsibly inhabit the ecosystem outside of my skull.

meanwhile, I'll keep reading.

on fetishizing the working class

as has been the habit of privileged people, we collect relics of tradespersons and work-class people. we covet their pickup trucks, and we wear their boots. we play out our feeble notions of their hours, with all of their glory and none of their woe. we identify the social merit of their aesthetic and hurry to adopt it as our own, for awhile, until the flavor is gone and we move on to consume another culture.

on marriage vows

on March 22nd I married Josh Whiton in an intimate ceremony. our vows seemed worth sharing beyond the small numbers in attendance.

Joshua's vows to me:

I promise to help you become yourself and not someone else. To give you the right amount of space for your authenticity to bloom and the right amount of shelter and support.

I promise to respect your deep and delightful intelligence as different from mine, yet complementary. 

I promise to live a principled life and to aim for ever higher purposes, but also to lay all that aside when what you really need is simple animal warmth.

I wish I could promise never to hurt you, but the best I can do is to is to promise to work on and improve myself, to get help for my problems as we uncover them so that I will hurt you less, to do my best to repair any damage I do and to heal any wounds I inflict.

I promise to invite you into my vulnerable places whenever I can muster the courage to do so, to be gentle yet sturdy when you invite me into yours.

I promise to stay mindful of our real needs, physical, psychological, spiritual, and to search out real nourishment for us as we try our hand at living so that we can fully grow.

and my vows to Joshua:

I promise to invite your cares, and make them my mine. I will value your ambitions as if they were borne of my own heart. 

I promise to honor your flourishing as an individual, that it may nourish our growth as a pair; and I will invest in our union, that it may strengthen our unique selves.

I promise to descend with you into cold and shaded places. And when I can, I will climb into the very canopy above and shift the stiff branches to restore daylight to our path.

When the world seems your adversary, I will be your ally. And when our love is held hostage by our own fears and distractions, I promise I will fight to get love back.

I promise to be a helpmate to aid with your load. I will be a playmate, making merry when the world makes a mess. I will be a mind mate, pairing wits to whittle away at the problems of this epoch. And I vow to be your soulmate, your anam cara, to resonate with you in the space between our hearts.

on why anyone should care

how do people come to care about something?

this question has been growing within me for some time but it underwent a growth spurt last year in Saxapahaw, North Carolina, debuting a new book by a local author and biofuels innovator Lyle Estill. the book is called Small Stories, Big Changes. it's a great read that features leaders in the sustainability and local economy; that evening, a handful of those near to Saxapahaw joined Lyle in a panel discussion about the book and their work. 

I knew Lyle and some of the people on the panel, as well as a few in the audience, so it was nice to be gathered there in that restored mill to explore topics we all cared about. we were kindred spirits who really got the practical value of things like resilient food systems, robust communities, and renewable energy.

but I grew frustrated in the audience. when I left I felt more dissatisfied than affirmed. why was this? what was my problem?


upon reflection, I think what bothered me was that while every person on the panel could offer a compelling account of their work--their passion, their challenges, their commitment--it all seemed utterly insufficient to move anyone who wasn't already sympathetic to their values.

we were a self-selected audience of fellow progressives who already cared deeply about this stuff. their messages resonated within each of us because, one way or another, we already had the structures for their words to strike and reverberate. but if someone lacks that internal architecture, if they don't already care, why should even the most illustrative articulation of community organizing matter to them? 

the question of my hour is how the human mind comes to care about something. people say we must have a personal connection or experience to something--that it's about relationship--but I am not satisfied by that answer alone. it rests on some more fundamental elements and I'd like to discover what they are.