The Horse’s Mouth

Nearly every day, people evaluate what they consume. We tend to accept nutritional information from valid studies of coffee, eggs, or trans-fats and adjust our approach. But I don’t see that same interest in thoughtful verification elsewhere. Folks seem to set aside perceptive reasoning and critical thought, and readily accept statements offered by charismatic personalities even though source data is elusive or unclear. People tend to declare loyalty as a part of group-think as the default mindset.

This essay addresses only two categories, mass media and religion, because of their effect on our daily social interactions. I hope it empowers and encourages readers to pursue authenticated sources as a continual practice so they can challenge their own credulity and know what they think and why.

The Horse’s Mouth 

Straight from the horse’s mouth, an English idiom used since the 1920s, describes getting information from a source firsthand. Its original application illustrated the process a buyer would use to verify the age of a horse he or she intended to purchase. For example, if the seller said the horse was three years old, a discerning buyer would go to the horse in question, open its mouth and be able to challenge the seller’s claim by the number and condition of the horse’s teeth. The potential buyer could then negotiate the price or walk away. Instead of naively accepting the seller’s version of information, the buyer demonstrated due diligence by going to a more reliable authority and original source—the horse.

Careful evaluation of sources carries over to our present-day lives. We are bombarded by information from myriad sources, and many people just give up instead of doing the work of essential analysis of a presentation. Some prefer a lax approach and avoid critical thinking altogether, choosing to let gatekeepers interpret facts and color original details.

Even though audio and visual communications are pervasive, not all voices and videos transmit authentic material. It is our job—our responsibility—to evaluate sources and exercise our critical thinking. The initial part of that job is to get as close to looking into the horse’s mouth as we can, especially when it comes to the media and spirituality.

 

The sway of media

Information we take in needs to be accurate, verified, and gathered as close to the primary source as possible. As media consumers, we each have an individual responsibility to evaluate information before applying it to our decision-making life. We can’t afford to surrender our minds to vague or invisible editorial committees who revise facts. We need to watch out for these and other gatekeepers in our discernment process. Gatekeepers, in the media sense, filter, limit, shape the language, or in some other way control public access to factual information. News directors and editors are some of the most prominent gatekeepers in today’s society.

Utilizing the horse’s mouth approach even applies to sports. For example, the Kansas City Chiefs give an extensive media briefing on Wednesdays after a weekend game whether they win or lose.  Although I watch the game, those who actually played are still my primary source—the horse’s mouth. Their responses to questions are forthright and based on their direct experience. I avoid more sensational commentary by commercial pundits and wait to hear from the coaches and players who were active on the field.

Of course, the offensive squad has a unique point of view, as does the defensive squad, special teams, and coaching staff. And surely each Twitter follower is passionate about what they saw, but the Chiefs’ public briefing is thoughtful and much less shaped by commentators and podcast gatekeepers who might frame questions to introduce or advance conflict.

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It is our obligation to cull the noise, shed gatekeepers’ agendas, and decide to get factual data from as close to original sources as possible. We can think for ourselves; we’re just out of practice.

Maybe we’ve been involuntarily programmed to react to sound bites and slogans like “a station you’ve come to trust” and “we’ll keep you safe.”  We seem to declare loyalty to affinity groups to manage our information diet like with our favorite fast-food eatery. We’re familiar with the menu – familiar with the jargon and semantics of our chosen affinity groups and media networks.

They speak our language. They may use phrases like “everyone knows that…”   You may even catch yourself saying “I saw it on (a certain show), so it must be true,” or “(a certain personality) wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

But whatever media form we choose to draw from, the bottom line is media does what is necessary to stay in business and prosper. They will exploit our gullibility for their financial benefit. Any time we tune into any show, whether news or entertainment, we’re opening a door of influence.

 

From September 26, 1994, through October 3, 1995, O. J. Simpson was on trial for killing two people. I had the television on for updates while folding laundry. At one point, O. J. was trying on a pair of black gloves—on top of a pair of latex-looking gloves. I questioned why he’d put on a pair of leather gloves on over another pair. However the case might turn out, his trial made it to television because pop culture wanted to see how well this football celebrity played this game.

During the trial, this text rolled across the bottom of the screen: 5,ooo people die in Kobe Japan earthquake.

I expected Ted Koppel to break into the trial coverage and offer more detail about the tragedy. I changed channels. No one was covering these thousands of deaths. All three networks were covering the gloves.

My first thought was why aren’t they switching coverage? On January 17, 1995, the Great Hanshin Earthquake Disaster, one of the worst in Japan’s history, killed 6,433 people, and no one cared enough to report it.

My second and third thoughts were: Who’s making the choice to ignore the lives being lost in that moment? What editorial executive board or person has control?

From that moment on, I paid close attention to the credits of television news productions. I search what media corporation owns the stations, and I read their mission and vision statements. I want to know more about the philosophy that shapes the tribe they are trying to satisfy. I try to notice how drastic that influence is and whether propaganda or subliminal insidious conditioning is happening.

It’s important that we try to find out who the owner of a network is. See what their mission is for the business. Who does the hiring of media personalities? Who is in the editorial department of your local station? This group selects and revises content and chooses the order to deliver stories. They choose which stories to label as Breaking News.

A few months ago, a local station, KCTV-5, began the hour with Breaking News about a school bus accident where three children were injured—in Georgia. This was followed by another school bus story describing another elementary school bus that slid off the rain-drenched road—in Wisconsin. Then a third story about a local school district that would be discussing the issue of seat belts in buses at the school board meeting that night.

If I hadn’t paid close attention to geography, I would have placed those three stories in the same mental file. The order those three stories were produced had affected my emotions, and I would have drawn the conclusion that seat belts on school buses are necessary—a perception shaped by editorial gatekeepers instead of my own critical thinking.

Of course, all media operates with the typical constraints of a business. Time is limited, and stories must be compressed or altered to fit the allotted space. More time is designed into documentaries so stories can be developed. However, the business of media still requires profit, so the concept of a story or subject matter must still be funded. This likely leads to bias or slant as facts are edited. Our part is to question what might be missing or skipped over, and to make the effort to find that information before drawing a conclusion.

As you practice paying attention to the shaping of information, you may become more aware of media programming conflating real life with scripted portrayals of reality. You may become aware of categories of jargon that affect your emotions, which might affect your objectivity. This use of semantics, the choosing of words to imply or assign meaning, is not a problem in itself. Electricians, medical professionals, and plumbers all use industry jargon.

My brother, John, often used the jargon of a heavy equipment operator. Terms like skid, hammer, and dirt dog peppered stories of his workdays in the mountains. But when he started using language outside his normal jargon and deflecting my questions with Rush Limbaugh slogans, I remembered an old Bible story that explained the shibboleth.

The biblical story describes a conflict where a tribe of Israelites fought and defeated another tribe (Judges 12:4–6). After the battle, survivors were attempting to cross the Jordan River. The tribe guarding the river challenged all would-be crossers to say the Hebrew word shibboleth. In the dialect of the defeated tribe, the word is pronounced with an initial “s,” not “sh,” so the guards killed anyone who said “sibboleth.”

On one of my Amtrak trips, I struck up a conversation with a friendly couple. Less than two minutes into casual chat about our destinations, I recognized a shibboleth of a religious cult I’d been part of years before and politely withdrew from their presence. The gentleman invited me to sit with them, but their shibboleth indicated their tribe, not mine. I walked away.

Shibboleths are evident in the world of media. When the evening news anchor comes on air with the statement, “We’re going to begin tonight with a tragic story,” that’s a signal to me that she will likely bring a dramatic tone to her whole presentation. In vying for consumers’ attention, in writing copy or posting on social media, engagement is achieved by creating a hook that will engage the audience.

In today’s culture, drama and trauma are effective. Pay attention to any hook that functions as a shibboleth and examine what that shibboleth might reveal about the tribe.

 

What can we do?

Where do we begin to reclaim critical thinking? Notice where we have become careless. Identify our own biases that affect perception. Ask ourselves questions and dig for honest answers. We can ask ourselves questions like:

  • Is this oversimplified? What information could be missing?
  • Am I drawn to the sensational viewpoint of the material? Does it amplify my emotions?
  • Is this piece distributing facts or opinion? Am I too trusting of this person (because I’m a fan)?
  • Where is this presentation or story leading me? Is it confirming what I already believe?
  • Are there pieces that seem irrelevant or don’t fit?
  • Do I detect any shibboleths that suggest insider-outsider issues?

It may be easier to trust gatekeepers, but is that the best practice? We currently live in a personality culture where celebrity status holds some sort of power. We would do well to ask ourselves what sort of power we have forfeited to others.

Here are some tips for looking into the media horse’s mouth.

  • Make the essential effort to verify sources; this is important to our freedom of thought.
  • Read articles from varied print sources. I find thorough articles in a business newspaper published daily in the United Kingdom (and available digitally): Financial Times. Another reliable source is The Economist, an international weekly newspaper printed in magazine format and published digitally. It focuses on current affairs, international business, politics, and technology. Based in London, the newspaper is owned by The Economist Group with core editorial offices in the United States, as well as across major cities in continental Europe, Asia, and the Middle East.
  • Search for trustworthy online sources. I go to Reuters, an international news organization with two hundred locations and 2,500 journalists. I choose my own reading. Another option is The Associated Press (AP), which is a nonprofit news cooperative. AP news distributes reports and photos to its members and customers. When I see two different versions of a story, I can go to the AP and see the original report they both received and how each changed it.

 

Now that you’re emboldened to think critically and get your information from the horse’s mouth regarding media’s coverage of current events, you may be ready to go the horse’s mouth in a spiritual context.

 

Spiritual data matters too

Raised on sparse flatland of the high plains, my first exposure to religion came from the man who would become my husband. He asserted that any questions I had about life could be answered in the Bible. I had countless questions, so I bought into that idea. Then I married him four months later. I spent decades trying with all my heart to reconcile things I learned in bible class with logic.

I understood from my nonreligious mother and my religious spouse that my job was to obey, not question. But I still had questions—more as I tried harder. All those years studying the Hebrew or Greek original words had built an intellectual comprehension but also increased the cognitive dissonance. During my fiftieth year, I crossed a threshold and decided to go straight to the horse’s mouth for this category of spiritual authenticity too.

I decided to pursue the true character of God from the perspective of a hunter-explorer. I did not want to arrange facts in any way, but just took notes. Simple. Straightforward. I wanted to skip over the chaos and confusion of historical issues of gender roles and proper behavior.

We have bought into the idea that we can’t or it’s too difficult, so we should just trust “someone smarter than me” (like a religious leader) who has it all figured out and will tell us what we need to know. After all, “they” have our best interests in mind, don’t they?

Religious gatekeepers control access. In my religious experience, elders and deacons were gatekeepers in the church. They stood up in front of the congregation with authority to teach, preach, and sing, qualified or not. Whether those elders and deacons beat their wife or abused their kids, there was no disqualifier. If they attended the assembly, they had power.

In my hunt for the true character of God, I became determined to eliminate the gatekeepers’ influence. I decided to not read books by spiritual leaders or experts. My quest could not be guided by them, and no substitute horses would do.

A preacher is not the horse’s mouth. Like writers and editors, preachers choose to include or exclude specific details about a given horse to deliver or promote a particular point of view. They assemble scriptures and quotes that support their assertion.

Bible class teachers are not the horse’s mouth. Authors of commentaries are not the horse’s mouth. I often heard the presumption that we common people can never know God. Even if that’s true, does it mean we surrender to gatekeepers?

Religious media networks are not the horse’s mouth. Like all other commercial media, they are in business for profit. They do the research on their niche market and deliver.

I tried to set aside my bias toward or against specific religious or spiritual communities. My exploration was not about trading one system for another. I simply chose to use critical thinking as best I could, adapt to any new expressions of deity, and verify by my own firsthand experience. I wanted to truly comprehend the character of the deity usually called God. I sought the real and true nature of the entity who motivated so many heroes.

I did read scripture, but I read differently. I included material written in the first two centuries. I looked for Bibles that had no columns, no numbering, no archaic language (shibboleth triggers like thee or thou), and no footnotes or references.

When I read, I rewrote sections in paraphrase without verse identifiers or subtitles. I trusted my own grasp of the text. I didn’t build my faith on any single statement. I focused on what the content revealed about character traits of God.

Some of my current spiritual convictions came in the form of experiential knowing. That means I believe something because I’ve experienced it. I’ve had encounters outside the normal physics of this dimension but as real as gravity and aerodynamics within this dimension. Those experiences verify the accuracy of spiritual truth, which is comparable to the truth that if I cut my finger, it will bleed.

Conclusion

Today can be a turning point for us—for you. It’s on us, not others, to do the work gathering facts for our consideration. It’s on us to hunt for important or missing information, to the extent we can. Cultivate knowledge by reading relevant material, asking critical questions, looking for information gaps, and hunting that gap down. Start by paying attention and noticing. Level up your literacy skills.

Don’t be pacified by others’ interpretations of circumstances. Practice hunting for facts from the horse’s mouth, or as close as you can get. Know where your information comes from and thoughtfully consider the data.

In the spiritual domain, steer clear of gatekeepers; an almighty God does not need an interpreter. If you want to know God, let God know, then listen. Tune in to the deity character described in scripture that you read. Read fresh with an open mind.

Practicing critical thinking is a treasure—the exploration of real information. Be brave; research does not hurt. It’s worth the work. Shine a light on precision; there is peace in knowing. You can draw your own conclusions with intellectual integrity. Enjoy your journey of improving your understanding and becoming more compassionate for others and yourself.

 

 

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CHRISTMAS MANIFESTO

All those years gone. All the tender memories that could have been. I wish I’d spoken out stronger over the years. I wish I’d taken a stand. I will now.

My objective is to develop a fresh practice of personally valuable Christmas ideals. I’ll gather remnants of my naïve attempts to celebrate this season, consider themes of good will and compassion, then compile a mass. From that mass, like a sculptor carves a stone, I’ll carve away the drivel and dross; marginalize the negative voices and scowls of that religion.

I won’t finish in a day; it’ll be a dynamic process as time rolls on, but this is where I land this year.

 

Christmas Manifesto

First, do no harm. I will do no more harm with yesteryear. My decades-old memories are vivid and hurtful, but it’s time to put them to rest. I choose to not repeat a narrative of religious restriction after this. Such recall virtually picks the scar to a fresh injury. I choose to build peace and joy from now forward.

Second, Thanksgiving is a well-established celebration of gratitude, so it’s also an appropriate time to set up and decorate a Christmas tree as my symbol of heritage. The tree’s ornaments will reach back in time to honor Czech fine glass and European woodcarving craftsmanship.

I consider ornaments passed down the family line or received as gifts from caring friends as precious as those relationships. Handmade craft expressions of children’s and grandchildren’s sentimental love will be preserved until they can no longer hold together, whether those children are young or adult.

I intend to set out a humbly constructed nativity scene with porcelain or clay figurines in a prominent location. I made the barn from twigs from this land; wove the roof from these herbs. I will not tolerate scrutiny of the symbols or feel guilt for perpetuating this wonderful story. I may keep it set up through April if the old argument of Jesus’ birth date is challenged.

I believe I do harm when I participate in the commercial entanglements of society’s Christmas season. I will express love and care with my own heart and hands. I feel less frustrated by any cultural effect and released from competition when my thoughts focus on a specific receiver. Again, this new Christmas is about legacy and love – to whatever extent I can contribute to this clan’s positive relationships.

I will walk forward free from any historical condemnation of Christmas. I will tune my satellite radio to Christmas music and sing along, with no guilt. I will learn even more about global expressions of this hope-filled holiday and enjoy their distinct expressions of various cultural stories. A baby who came from God to live with humans and rescue us from our suffering is a lovely reason for hope and wonder.

Christmas an appropriate season to practice compassion and goodwill.

I believe Christmas is good!

 

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TURNING POINT

It was one of those days. I looked in the refrigerator for a remedy – none there. Maybe a cup of tea or hot chocolate would ease this particular tension. Nope.

I went to the greenhouse looking for weeds to pull – couldn’t find even one tiny little thing, so I squished a few kale worms. My tension didn’t ease.

Came inside to the Quiet Room but couldn’t keep my seat on the ottoman long enough to get a good meditation done.

In that quiet though, I connected today’s nagging tension to a familiar sensation recalled from the years I wrote about in the memoir, Turn & Walk. That memoir is full of Turning Points, experiences or epiphanies that altered my reality. Whatever the details of a specific encounter, something happened that caused a sudden leap of understanding in that moment. A new realization. A breakthrough of some kind. Life – at least my perception of it – was renovated in a flash. Previous logic irrelevant; new principles, bona fide.

The suddenness aspect was not at all normal for me before this. I would normally carry an idea in my head for a long time, rationalizing, adding information like adding frosting, making the current situation more palatable. But when an encounter, audible or visual, happened, my reality immediately changed. From a Turning Point moment on, I lived and made choices in alignment with the new reality, as if, finally, I had better light.

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Not all Turning Points were supernatural in my history, but none the less permanent.

The hawks in my back yard seem to take a long time to fledge the nest. Parents train them to eat, then capture, substantial prey to live. Tension builds until one day, they don’t return to their nest. They sit on a branch nearby, but don’t go back in. My fledging Turning Point was shortly after my eighteenth birthday when I signed up with a Navy recruiter visiting our senior class. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that the family nest was too crowded. Once I flew away, I didn’t return to that nest, only to sit on a branch nearby for a while.

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Early in my 20s, I worked hard to study the bible, believing I could find all the answers to life in its pages. Believing that because my husband told me so. However, in my 30s, when our two sons were growing up, it made no sense to teach them Thee and Thou or try to explain Old English grammar or jargon. Internal tension built until I bought a New International Version and put King James on the bookshelf for good. I was done with it. There was tension after this Turning Point, but just in church and in-law gatherings.

Farther down that path, after this proactive turn, I picked up The Message. I wanted to read the disciples’ letters like letters, without footnotes. Today, I read the Jerusalem Bible, The Message, the Wuest Translation, or the New Living Translation. What matters in walking out my life after that Turning Point is my intention to get to know the entity-person all these writers seemed to know. To listen for God’s voice through all the religious chaos.

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In my mid-40s, a string of sad and painful situations slashed through my world. I suppose most of us who’ve lived past 40 have been disappointed or let down by people we’ve trusted. Tension built inside me with every disappointment until yet another Turning Point. I realized, in a single moment, that only I owned any responsibility for my learning in the religious world. I hadn’t yet grasped the idea of an individual connection (still far from a personal relationship) with God.

But I was absolutely and finally done with the phrase, “Someone smarter than me has studied and figured it out” concerning what people need to know about God. Previous decades of my burning questions had been answered with opinion; education mixed with religious tradition and bias. They might have studied Greek and Hebrew, but these guys in front of the class had no more access to God’s mind or heart than I did. I can do my own research. I’ll never know all I need to know, but I’m solely responsible.

Walking that out, I chose to believe the characterization of God in John Chapter 10. If I accept as a true principle that the Great Shepherd calls us sheep (by name) out of the corral into open pastures, and we sheep follow him because we know his voice, then my work is simply to learn to recognize that Shepherd’s voice. I started tuning in to listen, like listening outside to familiar nature sounds and identifying specific animals.

Also, God started waking me up at 3:18 a.m. no matter when I went to bed the night before. I kept a notepad and pen beside a stool in the closet and wrote what I heard – or saw.  I slipped over to that dimly lighted cozy closet easily, even without coffee. Those couple hours flew by. And my listening developed into hearing from God in more ways and different places. (More stories are in the book.)

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Some Turning Point encounters radically altered my world, but I had taken no active role. When I experienced one of these turns, it wasn’t like driving on a highway and turning onto a gravel road. These were like I turned into another universe.

Turning Points, at least my experiences with them, cannot be reversed or discounted. Like when I saw a hologram of myself as a lighthouse with brilliant rays of forgiveness radiating from holes all over me. And when I heard “Your name is Caleb” in the car on the way to where the question was asked an hour after I heard the Voice. When I saw and felt the misty smoke of God’s Spirit flow around and past me. These, and other weird encounters, are as vivid and relevant today as when they first happened. My perception of life changed permanently.

I can’t un-see that vision. Can’t un-hear that voice.

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Today was a good day to explore Turning Points. Why? Because I feel the increasing tension of some unforeseeable Turning Point almost every day! And maybe you do too.

Every day, I feel nagging tension regarding risks of Covid; I can do my best to apply medical wisdom to my actions and prepare for a worst-case scenario. Every day I feel tension and anger regarding racial injustice and horrors. Precious friends have shared experiences that make me cry. Any gender injustice I experienced pales to their reality.

Every day I feel heavy tension (disgust and outrage) concerning the cancer of corruption throughout national leadership and appointed positions. Propaganda designed to hijack rational minds of people of faith bothers me on both ends. I’m frustrated that people who can vote don’t, or won’t read, especially from a range of sources. Pissed that this culture equalizes “reality TV” with reality. Confused that sensible grown-ups would support an impostor and excuse, even defend, his false statements.

Every day is closer to a Turning Point, I can’t predict when or what. It could have to do with any of the three situations above. All I’m sure of is Turning Points happen – eventually.

What might you do when you feel that tension? Allow yourself to feel it. Sit with it. Don’t try to arrange an outcome, just notice details about where the tension is and prepare yourself for surprise.

Making changes in response to new knowledge is part of leading up to the turn. Tension builds – we adjust. But I know, for me, that until there’s a real transformation, it’s not yet a Turning Point.

 

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LAND COMPASSION

Brene’ Brown, research professor, lecturer, and author, says it’s dangerous to question our own lovability, creativity, or divinity. Whatever scars traumatic experiences have left us with, they are not to define or describe our intrinsic values in these three categories.

I apply that same philosophy to the context of land. The land I live with talks to me clearer than people do. This land is intrinsically loveable, stunningly creative, and unquestionably from the divine.

At the same time I heard Brene’ make her case about human value, I happened to read the book, A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold. This article is not a book review, but points made in Leopold’s essay, The Land Ethic, align with my reality and daily life. I’ve experienced over six decades living very close to the land in both wet and dry climates, trees and no trees, and variations of domestic and wild life and have strong notions about land use.

The soils here in Missouri are clayey, which means they are soft, dark and fertile or red and hard like brick, depending on how wet they are. I’ve yet to figure out one single strategy; the soil is an ongoing mystery to me. I’m lousy at proper composting methods of containment. Every year I consider another formal structure for this scientific process and diligently contribute vegetable scraps and egg shells. This year, it was an obsolete 55-gallon trash container with a lid I never used. I thought I could build up a couple feet, toss in some clippings, roll it around, and have compost cooked by mid-summer.

One early morning, as I bent over the deck railing to add yesterday’s coffee grounds, two black eyes looked up at me. A foraging opossum, harmlessly looking for a meal, was stranded in the bottom of this muck. Whatever aroma tempted her was surely not worth her current predicament. The sides were too high; the cost of any pitiful morsel also too high.

I made my way down the stairs in dawn’s light, carefully laid the can over so she could escape. Dark stinky compost tea poured out. The opossum waited to hear the backdoor close before she ambled out and scooted downhill into the brush cover 500 feet away.

I dumped the remaining sludge later that day; washed and stored the trash can. Maybe I can use it to store lumber cut-offs when it smells better, but I’m done composting in containers. I went back to tossing kitchen scraps as far as I can into the back yard. I never toss anything this ecological cohort would not naturally come upon; no avocado, no banana peels, no pineapple. Whatever I toss one day is typically gone in a day or two; I mow over any melon rinds and cabbage cores.

 

My land – this land I’m fortunate to steward includes fauna as much as flora. The economics of producing edible greens for my own belly are equal to providing (to a practical level) foods for resident and roving critters. I welcome and try to accommodate opossums, raccoons, ground hogs, foxes, and deer. I grow native plants for pollinators; build mason bee and bat houses; and planted a small clover patch for the three bucks, two doe, and three fawns.

But we do have our conflicts. Every few days, I have to go toe-to-hoof with a certain doe. (She and her fawns have eaten most of my pole beans and squash this summer.) When I catch her grazing toward the trellis, I slip quietly out the door opposite that side of the house and step cautiously around the corner toward her. I ‘m trying to learn the language of her head movements, but I think I understand her forefoot code.

I try to mimic her head tilting and stomping. I don’t rush her or act scary. I accept her point of view; I am the non-native entity. I step as close as she does, matching her approach. Sometimes, I get within 40 feet and wish I could capture this beauty on camera. When I think I’ve made my point that she can eat all the rest of this acreage, but the beans and fenced garden are my food, I emit a small snort, stomp one final time, turn to the side, and remove myself from her territory.

This is how I live now and lived this way before I read the essay. It makes sense to me to collaborate with the natural environment and steward this acre of place as best I can. It’s more work than I can handle sometimes, but it’s my spiritual commitment, satisfaction, and deep joy. I am grateful for this blessing.

Leopold became a conservationist and educator, but was foremost a natural philosopher. That label is one of the few that I’m comfortable wearing also. Some points Leopold makes in his essay, The Land Ethic follow:

  • Humans tend to consider the value of land only from its economic potential. Whatever the range of function or use, its worth is relative to our benefit. Mining, forestry, lumber, recreation, or hunting – human benefit or pleasure guides our evaluation of a parcel or region.
  • Ecology describes a study of nature that includes plant, animal, water and soil elements. Living creatures and interdependent relationships with their physical environment.
  • Ethic is a pattern of behaviors that are responses to social approval or social punishment.
  • To consider land in only economic terms limits human-land relationship to a sense of privilege without obligation – what it can provide for us-me.
  • We should step back from our individual exploitation point of view and feel compassion for the land.

 

For me, these beliefs mean my land is a community of interdependent elements. I keep hazardous things like plastic bags away from here. I don’t allow pesticides or chemicals on my acre. I might pour a little diesel fuel on a stump of non-native brush, but that’s the limit. I wait until a tree dies a natural death before I shape it into firewood.

The main point that repeats throughout the essay, even if not always put to script, is violence. I resonate with this philosophical description. I can’t stand violence on the big screen or little screen and see no justification for violence in the stewardship of my little community called land. The violence of the chainsaw is after the trees’ natural death.

I don’t want to conquer this place; I want to be one of its inhabitants. I’ve invested thirty years here after moving nineteen times. Things, precious things, are under this sod. Living things contribute too. Squirrels learn to share with cardinals. Deer chase fox when boundaries are trespassed. Feral cats intrigue the same deer but don’t hurry their pace – ever. Hawks nest in the early spring and their fledges learn adulthood by raiding robins’ nests. Foxes pounce on moles and squirrels.

I am but one critter among this tribe. I feel an obligation to consider the whole community including the intermittent creek that edges the north and west of us and the trees and brush that contribute more than I have time to describe here. I’m the one with tools and resources (and maybe a mind) to manage this place. I’ll call it my place for now, I have the heart, thus the obligation to apply my best land ethic to this place. My land.

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TIME TO TOSS

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Confessions of an absentee blogger

I sat down to write a confession and explain to you my lack of posting, so, of course, checked my email one more time. It wasn’t procrastination this time, it was a gift. Two authors I subscribe to had written – and sent – similar confessions! They both wrote honestly about being knocked around by life and this quarantine. They were mentally and emotionally exhausted.

It had been a while since I’d opened something from them, but time isn’t measuring the same these days. Routines are irregular at best. Maybe I just didn’t notice.

Their stories gave me the courage to go ahead with mine.

In my writing world there’s a motivational quote from Seth Godin that says, “Real artists ship.” I’m not an artist, but I am definitely a writer. Writers ship. I can develop all sorts of ideas, organize a bunch of essays, produce short and long poems and reveries, but if I don’t ship, I’m not a practicing writer.

I hadn’t published on my blog for a month. Instead of posting I’ve done other stuff. I’ve replaced a sliding glass door, baked bread, and attended a BUNCH of Zoom workshops. I planted a fall garden, fed the deer, squirrels, cats and birds. Even watched Hamilton – twice.

However, none of that is writing. I resonated with these other two confessors, and agree quarantine living is a bit stifling. But as I started thinking through my own block, I realize that my being stuck has to do with what I’m holding on to.

I hold onto things. I’m not a hoarder, just want to do the best I can in alignment with my core values. I hold onto old clothes because fabric is nice and I can sew and re-purpose some of them. I value the earth and believe we should reduce, reuse, and recycle; I live that as best I can. Last fall, I repurposed wood and windows around here to build my little greenhouse.

I do hold things for a while, but then, I get crazy and start tossing. This morning, before the recycle truck got to my street, I let loose! It was time to toss!

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OPTIONS & ATTITUDE

How are we coping with life five months into this strange restrictive reality? My attitude fluctuates, but I’m trying to see what options I can exercise.

Staying home has benefits

I’m here when things happen. Yesterday, I watched a doe and a young fox play in my back yard. The fox apparently transgressed some boundary the doe had defined for her fawns and the game was on. Fox could just run a hundred yards and allowed the doe her space but it was a cool morning.

They ran around the spirea once and Fox sat down just out of her reach. Doe huffed and lowered her head. Fox jaunted to the mimosa tree twenty yards away. Doe’s tail raised in alert position, she trotted toward him. He sat again, looked over his shoulder then back at her. Stood and lowered his chest like a puppy. Pounced side to side, paused for her response, then gave up their game to trot into the woods. Doe watched him go, lowered her tail, and walked away, happy her domain was recognized.

I would have missed all that.

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WHAT SHOULD I DO?

protection or protest

What can I do?   

These last months of virus epidemic already had me a little on edge, then add fresh agony of wrongful death, I wanted to fix it, wanted to fix it all! I saw lots of positive energy invested into the chaos of pain and too much negative energy deflecting progress. I want to do something – but what? I kept pacing, kept asking, “What can I do?”

“What should I do?”

Should I surrender reason and run off the cliff with all my family of lemming? Lemmings do the same thing as others regardless of whether it’s smart or thought through. I’m pretty sure I’m not a lemming.

I also established in my book, Turn & Walk: an unexpected quest, that I’m an ‘outside-the-box’ believer. I’m a woman of strong deep faith but passionate about staying clear of gatekeepers – all gatekeepers.

I do NOT follow a preacher, church leader, or movement spokesperson, even if they are a good person. I DO gather information from a broad range of sources, always hoping for solutions or salve for deep wounds. Neither speeches nor sermons heal wounds unless they motivate hearts to step in with care.

It’s time I look again at what God’s intentions might be for people. Read more

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RATIONING IN ISOLATION

I made four cups of chickory coffee this morning – drank two. I’ll warm up the remaining two cups tomorrow. Enough.

Filled the car with gas the day before I began self-isolating. Bought over $100 worth of groceries at my favorite discount grocer, frozen meats and vegetables mostly. No hoarding of paper goods had yet been talked about. That same day, I picked up my regular armful of books at the library. Having all I figured I’d need, any other errands will be nonessential through April. Read more

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