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I am not much of a poetry writer but after reading the Indigenous Mind by Kaylynn Sullivan Twotrees I was inspired to write a poem. The title of my poem is derived from a sentence that really called to my own spiritual struggles.In the sentence she writes, “Accessing [the power of consciousness means] a commitment to slowing down, remembering, and re-conceiving on a smaller scale to reclaim intimacy with nature and its layers of species as an aspect of my own essential nature”. I too often fall captive to the constant busyness of life that I forget to take these moments. Most times it gets to the point where I find myself yearning for nature to take me back. And this poem is my articulation of this struggle:

With her I take the last breath
Sorrowfully learning the meaning of connection
Feeling more alive than ever, I thank you death
You are my portal to a deeper reflection

The rhetoric of life causing repentance
A moment paused for redirection
Contemplation of the interdependence
Complexities in need of the finest dissection

Only in a heavenly melody
Do I find myself to have meaningful collection
The beat, the voice, slows me down mentally
The soul open to perfection

Yet hopelessly drowning in damage control
The spiritual realm is in rejection
To the consumer soul
Struggling to get up, for protection

Mother Nature takes my hand
Looks me in my eyes with inspection
Opens the winds, the light, and shows me the land
I place myself here, forced injection

You are my portal to a deeper reflection
Struggling to get up, for protection

“Indigenous” so often carries connotations applied to it by invasive forces. The notion that to be indigenous is at its root a harmonious quality and that it is, in fact, a quality innate to each of us is indeed refreshing. As Kaylynn Twotrees suggests in her essay, “Indigenous Mind”, it is a notion that lends itself to the unity of all people. At the most basic level, we are all sustained by the same sources of life— land, air, water and as many would hold, the Creator of those gifts.

With the understanding that none stand apart from another, there is hope that we might seek to revive our awareness of, and gratitude for, the Earth and all that sustains us. Without this philosophy, environmental decline and social conflict replace sustainable living and healthy community.

Only a rich philosophy learned by experience and strengthened by action is meaningful and real. Twotrees’ experience of nature exemplifies this idea. She calls this philosophy one of “indigenous mind”. As she makes herself present in her surroundings, she learns the essence of nature in a way that leads her to strong convictions. It seems that her experience could be no different. She had only to create a space in her mind and soul and the rest followed naturally.

Recognizing the inseparability of nature and humankind is integral to the development of a responsible land ethic. If it is true that each of us has an indigenous mind, we have but to allow ourselves the opportunity to cultivate a certain intimacy with Creation. Certainly community can encourage these opportunities.

Speaking from my own spiritual journey, the land is one element through which we can foster a spiritual relationship with the Creator. For others, there is a spiritual relationship with the land itself. This spiritual facet of our relationship with the land is important, but there is a risk, especially through poetry and prose, that the connection is reduced to feelings and experiences, flaunted by imagery and aesthetic language. Both experiences and the expression of them are of course significant and valuable, but they are feeble and dangerous in the absence of concrete thought and action. If an experience is real and not crafted, it will inevitably become influential in one’s life and redefine one’s very person. It is precisely when the expression of experience no longer reflects tangible transformation that we should be wary. Thus, one must live and breathe a philosophy inspired by Creation, and realized by stewardship.

– Hans

The relentless stream of commitments, assignments and deadlines… Feeling overwhelmed, not recognizing the joys of daily life, just trying to stay afloat. The tireless load that sends you into a tailspin that seems impossible to get out of. Free moments are unheard of; time is of the essence.

I am not living in the moment; I am ceaselessly trying to suck each and every second out of the day, just trying to keep my head above the water and catch a breath every once and a while.

But struggling to stay afloat instead of living in the moment in the fullest possible sense, what joy does that provide? To take a breath and immerse myself in the present, to open my senses to all that is now and ignore for an instant all that awaits.

All can be forgotten when I take a moment to connect to the world of which I am a part of, and breathe. To rediscover the inspiration and joy that can be found when I let my curiosity, wonder and willingness take over.

It is I who can choose to slow down, to remember the joys of daily life and to relearn the calm that can be found by taking a breath and pausing. The uninterrupted stream of commitments, assignments and deadlines will always be, but this moment will not.

In Kaylynn Sullivan Twotrees “Indigenous Mind”, the author makes a call for more awareness of the “broader accountability of the uses of power” and suggests that the understanding and awareness of “species relationship and interdependence” is essential in securing a future on this planet. This is something that seems like common sense to me, however, without providing a long list of environmental disasters (some of which in our own backyard) it is obvious to me that this is not common sense and that this type of empathy and awareness might have to be taught to people.

I am very lucky. I had a father that believed it was important for me to be exposed to a lot of different raw and real life situations. He also had a lot of faith in my ability to make sense of what I was seeing. My family owned an aviation company. Aviation where I grew up plays a pretty big part of everyday life. After Yellowknife, there are only winter ice roads that head north and a lot of those are for exclusive use for the mines and large exploration projects. In the summer months you travel by aircraft to these remote locations. Growing up, I was fortunate enough to be hauled along on many trips under the guise of “swamper” which usually involved shoveling snow or loading and unloading different objects. What this opportunity did give me, besides the development of a strong back, was an aerial perspective of the effect that human development had on the landscape. In my mid to later teens the federal government put a pile of money into cleaning up old mine sites that had been abandoned.

One of the reasons my dad came north is because of the DEW line site construction. The DEW Line – short for Distant Early Warning Line – is an integrated chain of 63 radar and communication systems stretching 3,000 miles from the northwest coast of Alaska to the eastern shore of Baffin Island opposite Greenland. The DEW line is located within the Arctic Circle over the entire length and for much of the distance completely unexplored. Both he and my uncle flew both helicopters and airplanes to these remote locations all across the north. Funnily enough, many years later I worked as a flight attendant on small 40 seat aircraft that ferried crews and supplies in and out of these sites when the government finally decided to deconstruct them.

One story my dad told me was about when he was doing work in the Arctic Islands for some sort of resource Exploration Company. He was flying a couple of geologists around and was told to land at this one spot. At this spot there were little hoodoo like formations. Apparently one of the geologists walked up and started kicking one of them over. My dad told me he was horrified that this university educated man did not realize how precious these structures were. He told me it was then that he realized that a formal education does not always make for someone that saw or cared about the bigger picture.

Greetings, all.

I wanted to share my post for my Athabasca course with you.  If you’re game, you’re welcome to visit it on my blog

http://onepercentyellow.wordpress.com/2013/09/24/sustainability-there-are-so-many-levels/

Leslie

During this week’s Hope Beneath Our Feet reading, “Indigenous Mind”, Kaylynn Sullivan Twotrees struck me when she said: “… awareness i not a state of achievement. It is like walking.” The awareness she describes, of the land, of herself, of the world, is amazing to me. Then I wondered: Am I aware? How much? Am I aware so much that it is like walking to me as well?

Of course, the sad realization followed suit: walking isn’t even natural to me. Living on campus, I rarely trek past the Faith and Life Centre. Even when I do, it’s in a carpool to the grocery store or begrudgingly to  the bank. I never just walk. It’s not very natural for me to put a foot in front of the other, whether there is a destination or not, and balance myself towards something. Despite having a gorgeous view of both Rotary Park and the ski trails, I am perfectly content sitting at my desk every day, admiring the trees rather than walking among them and breathing the oxygen they provide.

I also, probably subsequently, never feel aware, never feel as though I have an indigenous mind. Twotrees describes the indigenous mind as being an awareness of our locale that can shift to the grand scheme of things, connecting us to the world. Every speech and every reading of this class so far serve as a sad reminder of my disconnection to the land. I wish to be more aware, but I can’t help but fall into my cycle of polyester clothes, of imported foods, of disposable plates and the delusional notion that food comes from the grocery store.

I found a bit of solace when Twotrees pointed out that all humans are indigenous to the Earth and are therefore capable of the indigenous mind. Augstana is my twelve school. I’ve lived in over a dozen cities, even more “homes”, three provinces, two states… Floating like a dandelion seed, I don’t feel as though I’ve quite “blossomed” into anything yet. I have no attachment to the soils I walk and fail to differentiate them from the other soils I’ve set foot on(albeit probably through plastic soles). Now, through a different lense, perhaps a more indigenous one, I get to appreciate the different experiences I had in various senses in my different locations. Ultimately, now I am more aware than ever at the fact that this world is my world and what happens affects me. I am learning to love the shades that trees form, the sunlight on my skin, the hardworking critters all around, the flowers that blossom year after year. I am getting closer to forming a stronger indigenous mind, to connecting with the spirit of the land.

“How do I live my life right now?” Every day, I think about the source of my food, water, and air a little bit more. I think about what it means to be alive or to be a citizen of this world. I definitely have a much different perspective of life than I did before taking this course. I am challenged by frustrations of my own lifestyle and am eager to know more about the land. I tend to dwell on the past and worry about the future, and sometimes it stops me from enjoying- or even being a part of- the present, where so much is happening. I don’t know if how I live my life right now is with an indigenous mind, but I do believe it is a process. I am aware of this.

Hey folks

Here are a couple resources I have come across.  The first one is a discussion on the ways that trees communicate through the soil. It hearkens back to our discussion of the connectivity of the natural environment, and when we consider it, connection to us as well!

Do Trees Communicate? 

The second is one that I have not finished watching yet, but the panel is OUTSTANDING!

 

Building a Slow Food Nation (1 of 2) from Slow Food Nation on FORA.tv

Here’s the ad we watched at the beginning of class on Thursday.

I’d like folks to problematize this move by a fast-food chain.  There’s a great conversation that is ongoing on this site.  Many interesting thoughts being put forth, from criticism of the flavour of the food to questions of the portrayal of the food as vegetarian in the final bit of the video.

Also, take the time to visit Chipotle’s site.  What do you see there?

I think it’s stellar that a major corporation is bringing these conversations forward and carving out an entirely different niche in the major food market, but there are still many questions to be asked.  Is Chipotle appropriating the values of slow, local, organic, ethical food, or are they really supporting the values we are discussing in class?

 

 

As I happily sat cross-legged in the park near to the buildings I would later be required to confine myself in to discuss social theory of community, reading and re-reading the words of Wendell Berry, I often took moments to pause: moments to feel the wind through my hair, the sun on my cheek, the falling leaves on my shoulder. I feel connected to this place, to Augustana, to Camrose. It may derive from my historical roots, as many family members settled in the area, it may come from the strong social bonds I have made with individuals from all over the community, but I think it largely comes from the immediate connection I feel to the earth beneath my feet, so comfortable, radiating the sentiment that I am right where I need to be.

Connecting the dots, I have found that the themes revolving around my courses this year are all dealing with intricately related issues: community, social change, spirit of the land, and food. Berry too, makes these connections in the enlightening essays that have sparked this conversation. Perhaps many have not recognized the strong agricultural community that supports Camrose; the community becomes most prevalent when I attend the Thursday or Saturday farmers market (how incredible is it that the mall plays host to not one, but two markets per week–the times when I firmly believe the shopping mall sees the highest influx of buyers). Realistically, what has been brought to light in these essays is the ignorance many members of mainstream society maintain while shopping for food stuffs in grocery and department stores–perhaps not realizing that the origins of the ‘nourishment’ we know today are having heavy ecological and societal impacts: cheap labor, factory farms, industrial agriculture with its heavy reliance on chemical fertilizers and pesticides. It seems the strong ties of community and agriculture that vibrantly exist world wide are but mere skeletons on the national stage.

When our food is purchased, grown, or acquired consciously-from sources to be respected, and roots we understand-the food not only tastes better, but we may then better recognize our place in the system. Our place as co-creators and producers, rather than mindless consumers. We may then better recognize our responsibility to tend the earth that is becoming exhausted beyond measure; our responsibility to our community to support and maintain these local food networks that are building livelihoods that thrive, rather than merely exist. Since I have not come from a farming background, these notions and connections were knitted through my education, and my passion. Though, regardless of where we are coming from, there is no time like the present to be thankful for the farmers who respect their land, who respect their passion, and are forming resilient communities that resonate on frequencies of cooperation and gratitude.

 

 

I was thrilled with broadcasting our Spirit of the Land class last night.  While it’s great that we can archive and post these lectures, there is something different when you can tune in and listen live to the class.  Sharing time even if we cannot share space.

So this morning I woke up and tuned into my favourite radio station and @scottlo was broadcasting from Saudi Arabia with his signature radio voice, sweet tunes, and significant insights.  He returned to a post by @grantpotter and an excerpt from Lorenzo Milam’s guide to radical, community-based radio.  I wanted to share it here to underscore what it is we are doing.

We have opened our classroom to community participants here in Camrose.  We have opened our classroom to digital community participants from around the world!  Just to let you know, last night we had Joyce tuned in from Pincher Creek, Corey from McBride, Grant from Vancouver, Cathleen from Haiku, Bridget from Texas, Rowan from Australia… and others who I don’t even know.  They all shared in Colin’s passionate talk on the threats to Family Farms.

If I could be so bold to claim a manifesto for #ds106radio, it would be this:

“You and I are being falsely discouraged; being discouraged from thinking that the aether is our own.

This is so evil.  A radio station should be the place in the community for concerned and talented and plain-home-folk individuals to have a chance to express themselves.  In the place you live right now, there are hundreds of secret talents: there is someone who collects (and loves) old jazz, there are politically aware people — who can speak to reality, and raise so many consciousnesses in the process.  There are readers — who can do fine 30 or 40 minute readings from novels or plays or poetry or children’s books.

There are individuals, walking down the street right now, right there:  live, loving people who can play the guitar or the kazoo or the harp — people who would be delighted to know that there is one door to the aether which is open and free to them: a door to all the hungry minds and souls of so many people who will, at last, know (through your station) that they are not alone.

You can end that mystique.  The forbidding wall that American commercial broadcasters — and their in-school counterparts — have built against the rest of the world.  You have the chance to destroy the cruel walls built by the media barons to keep out the dispossessed, the thoughtful, the wondering.  Your frequency can be the one place in your community of men [and women] where the angry, and the frustrated, and the knowing and the creative and the perceptive and the hopeless and the lost: the one place that they can know that they are free to speak their piece — without censorship, without fear, without cost.

You will then give them the secret — which is really no secret at all: that is: the radio station owners and the schools and colleges are not the priests and magicians who control the voices of 10,000 American transmitters, but rather, just a frail ghost which we are programmed to think has the right and the duty to keep us out.

And you and I know, trust, that the door can and should be opened to all who care and who want to be heard.  This is the secret — this is our secret.  The one I am trying to share, to share with you.  Please let us share it with all the others.”

 

SO!!! Now I’m saying… tune into #ds106radio when you can.  Learn to broadcast (I’ll totally help you out, as would others in the #ds106radio community).  Tune into a station that makes sense. And share!

 

Sex and Broadcasting: A Handbook on how to start Community Radio Stations by L. Millam The Whole Earth Truck Store and Bookpeople of Berkley. Los Gatos, California. 1971.