Solstice Dreaming: Detaching from the Nightmare to Feed the Spirit of a Better World

Right now my homeland, the United States, is a very sick place.

It’s a sickness that expresses itself inwardly through epic rates of depression, anxiety, addictions, self-harm and suicide. Outwardly we see it in the constant assault of violence: civilian shootings and trucks driven into crowds; endless wars; and the relentless violence against the natural world, driven by greed and indifference to suffering.

Watching what is happening in American politics is like watching a 21st century version of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. Or we could compare it to the French monarchy just before the Revolution: let them eat cake!

It is not clear yet whether the pendulum will swing back towards the center again; whether the electorate–mangled, abused, furious and ill as it is–will summon moderates back to the halls of power in D.C.

With a good half of the electorate tuned out to the political process and millions of trigger-happy armed civilians; with an ever-more-militarized police force, a punitive criminal justice system and the biggest prison system in the world…it’s easy to imagine the U.S. descending into dystopian nightmare in the next decade.

And that’s even without factoring in the wild card of climate change, predicted to disrupt food supplies, cause massive storms and unbearable heat waves, and flood the coastal cities.

The U.S. is like a sick, wounded, colossal monster, thrashing out dangerously in its agony, whipping its barbed tail around in ways that are wrecking everything in its reach—and its reach is vast, encompassing practically the whole world.

Collectively, human civilization is approaching a breaking point on the planet. The scientists warn us blandly that we will exhaust the resources of our Earth in August, living the rest of the year on credit that we can never repay.

It’s easy to feel despairing.

And yet.

Sitting here, on the peaceful windy shores of Nova Scotia, the warmth of the people and the steady rhythms of the elements remind me that the nightmare of the U.S. is not all-encompassing. As Arundhati Roy put it long ago, there is another world…and if we’re quiet, we can hear her calm breathing.

Mother Earth has survived cataclysms before. She will survive humans—even dangerous Americans. She has eons to regenerate, reset and create anew. She’s already doing it, everywhere we look.

We who are alive to bear witness to this extraordinary transition time on Earth must resist the dark pull of despair, with its madness of violence and lethargy of indifference.

Remembering to think in the long term, the way Gaia does, can help us focus on what is beautiful and creative in our world. It’s our task to do what we can, wherever we are, to add to the beauty and to help others to do so too.

This is what I call doing hope together. We resist the dark magnetism of the constant parade of horrors that passes for “news” these days. We turn our attention elsewhere:

  • to the small radiance of a wildflower, lifting its head to the sun for the sheer joy of living;
  • to the delighted laugh of a baby sitting in a strawberry field tasting sunwarmed berries for the first time;
  • to the sweet trill of a bird sitting by its nest, teaching its fledglings to sing.

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Yes, there is darkness, cruelty and suffering in our world, which can’t be ignored and must be addressed. But the danger in our times is that we become so overwhelmed by the darkness that we can no longer summon the light in ourselves. The flames of our own spirits start to gutter.

It is not selfish or uncaring to feed our spirits by focusing on beauty. Just as nursing mothers must remember to eat and drink so that they can better feed their babies, we who are acting as doulas—helping our dying civilization let go so that a better world can be born—must also remember to nourish ourselves, so that we can continue to serve as beacons of hope and positivity for others.

My advice to you on these sunny Solstice days? Turn off your screen, leave your phone behind, and get outside to enjoy the bounty of our Mother Earth. Take some time alone in nature, quieting the blare of the headlines in your mind, and tuning in to the music of the birds and the bees. Find some water to sit beside, and let your mind wander as you stare at the sun glinting on the surface.

We plugged-in humans are in danger of forgetting how very important daydreaming in nature is to our personal, political and planetary well-being. Now is a wonderful time to slow down and remind ourselves to let the dreams back in to our waking lives.

We can’t fix everything that’s wrong with our society if we can’t imagine a better world. And for that, we need to detach ourselves from the nightmare, and create a better dream to live into.

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Off With Their Heads!

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When I posted this infamous photo on Facebook recently with a caption wondering whether the fury over its “bad taste” was misplaced, I got a storm of responses.

Some people recalled how the right had posted many horrible pictures of President Obama being lynched, and thought it was OK to fight fire with fire.

Others said when they go low, we should stay high, and it was never permissible to depict violence against a US President.

What I see when I look at that photo is yes, mob justice; the same kind of justice that brought down the aristocrats in the French Revolution and the Czars in the Russian Revolution. It’s the same kind of mob justice that threw off the yoke of colonialism in the Americas, Africa and India.

Sometimes you just have to say “Off with their heads!” and mean it. And sometimes one person’s “mob justice” looks like revolutionary freedom fighting to someone else.

What I see when I look at that photo are all the reasons why we should be angry—no, FURIOUS!—at the Orange Man.

The man currently squatting in our White House, aided and abetted by his family and henchmen, has been systematically dismantling environmental protections, financial regulations, the New Deal social safety net and health care coverage.

He stands for the billionaires, the hedge funds and the giant corporations who make their obscene profits by riding roughshod over ordinary people, national economies and the environment worldwide.

If the cruel juggernaut represented by this man is not stopped, climate change will run amuck, and the dream of the Libertarians will be realized: every man with a gun for himself. We would regress to a feudal warlord society, as has happened in many of the smaller countries we have armed and goaded into civil wars—think Iraq, Syria or Yemen.

I take no comfort in the knowledge of the kind of military force now available to local law enforcement agencies because this force could easily be turned against citizens who refuse to “get with the program” of the corporate elite: think Standing Rock, think Occupy.

And think how the Libertarians who perpetrated an armed occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Washington state last year were treated with great restraint by Federal, state and local authorities, and got off scot-free; while the Standing Rock water protectors were hit with water cannons in freezing weather, arrested and treated in a demeaning manner in jail and have had to pay fines and fight through many court appearances.

Clearly there are many double standards going on here, similar to the way there was little notice taken when President Obama was depicted being lynched, while the woman who thought she was being funny by showing herself holding Trump’s bloody head has been pilloried.

This is my main point: we can’t afford to let ourselves be distracted by this kind of sideshow. A photo in poor taste is one thing, but a President taking the wrecking ball to environmental, corporate and financial regulation, civil rights, human rights, women’s rights, funding for science and the arts, health care coverage, international treaties…the list goes on…THIS is what we need to be outraged about.

I wouldn’t wish decapitation on anyone. But a political “decapitation”—removing this guy from office, and throwing out the GOP who delivered our nation to him—yes, we need that kind of justice.

Call it mob justice or call it freedom fighting, but let’s get it DONE.

What is being asked of us now? Gaian death doulas for a world in transition

Memorial Day, by design, is focused on death. This year, it seems like the tide of death has become a roaring tsunami. You know what I mean; I don’t have to list it.

As I try to cope with my grief and anger over the state of our world today, it’s becoming clear to me that those of us who are aware are being called to become death doulas for our dying world: Gaian death doulas.

It’s an odd juxtaposition: death doula. Doulas are usually all about birth: they assist midwives, mothers and families to warmly usher babies into life.

Death doulas are more like hospice workers, trying to help smooth the passage for those who are dying, and their families. Amid a growing awareness of the lack of graciousness in the medicalization of death, the idea of death doulas is catching on.

As I look for ways that the personal, political and planetary align, I see that just as personal death doulas can help dying individuals with their transition, and ease the grief of those who love them, Gaian death doulas can bring a political and planetary perspective to help communities in transition, helping us balance our grief over what is being lost with a quickening awareness of the potential of the new era now emerging.

Western civilization understands life and death in too linear and finite a way. Death and life are part of a great spiral dance, as Starhawk put it long ago; a dance in which each living being has a role to play, from the tiniest insect or plankton to the human, the whale and the great baobab tree.

In beginning to understand my own role as that of a Gaian death doula, I am indebted not only to Starhawk but also to Joanna Macy, both of whom have long been leading the way.

The work begins with looking back to understand the great dying we humans have presided over and contributed to over the past 5,000 years, since Gilgamesh so symbolically killed the guardian of the forest and starting cutting trees to build his city.

We have to look unflinchingly at the steady increase in destruction caused by industrial capitalism, in order to understand our personal and political role in the system we were born into.

How have we been socialized into a callous acceptance of constant unnecessary death and destruction? How have we acquiesced and contributed to this? Have we ever tried to imagine a better, more life-affirming relationship to our planet?

These are the kinds of questions I raise in my memoir, and in my purposeful memoir workshops, where we consciously consider how the personal, political and planetary have aligned in our lives.

But it’s not all about sadness and guilt. Even as we bear witness to “the sixth great extinction” that is unfolding in our time, we can also celebrate our planet’s endless potential for regeneration and rebirth.

Yes, we may lose many of the iconic species we love, our dear elephants and sweet polar bears.

But let’s remember that other wonderful species have been lost before, on the road to our present moment, and not all of them due to human aggression: from the dinosaurs to the saber-toothed tiger or the mammoth, many species have had their heyday and spiraled back into the birth-death-rebirth dance of Gaian evolutionary history.

We can learn from Mother Earth’s endlessly creative and abundant example. She doesn’t waste time mourning; she immediately gets to work regenerating, using the building blocks available—we can see this plainly in the way green grass shoots right up to take the place of trees that are cut down.

Gaian death doulas can help us understand the transition process we’re in now, so that we can support Mother Earth in her important work of regeneration. Yes, we can and must grieve those lost, but we must also cultivate and support the new life rising.

For me this is as much about standing up for a nurturing Gaian education for our young humans as it as about insisting on humane treatment of farm animals and properly regenerative agricultural and logging practices.

This Memorial Day, I grieve the tremendous dying-off of our time. And through my tears, I smile and extend a hand to those grieving with me, and to the young ones who are just coming in to this story.

The next chapters are ours to imagine, ours to dream and to manifest. What role will you create for yourself? Let’s work together to craft a story we can live into with joy.

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Mother’s Day Anger

So it’s hard, when my Facebook feed is lighting up with lovely tributes to moms and children, to confess what’s in my heart.

Especially when I too am so blessed—I have such a wonderful mother, such wonderful children!

But there is this stubborn knot, somewhere just above my heart, that will only be untangled if I take the risk of writing my truth.

So here goes.

As a mother, I AM SO ANGRY.

Not at my kids—lord, no.

I am angry at the prevailing culture that makes it so hard to be a mother these days.

I am angry at 12 weeks’ maternity leave being seen as generous.

I am angry at the incredible stupidity of Republicans who can imagine pregnancy as a “pre-existing condition.”

I am angry—no, FURIOUS—at the on-going, accelerating, totally suicidal destruction of our Mother Earth, Gaia, without whose generous beneficence none of us could live for even a moment.

I am angry at our president and first lady—the one an avowed pussy grabber, the other someone who clearly values money over a good relationship.

I am angry that still today, in 2017, women have to choose between career and motherhood—and if we choose motherhood, our earning potential is likely to be forever crippled.

I am angry that my 18-year-old son was forced to register with the US military in case of a draft. The Iroquois Confederacy had it right: no war without the permission of the WOMEN of the tribe.

I am angry that public schooling in America is still tied to the property tax, which means that kids in poor neighborhoods receive significantly poorer schooling than kids in wealthy neighborhoods. Are we not all Americans? Enough of this race/class discrimination!

I am angry that older women, who have put in their time as moms and grandmoms and foster moms and nurturers of all and sundry are at risk of being turned out to pasture without enough social support.

Oh shit! I am angry! And I know that it’s not cool for mothers to be angry. We are supposed to be endless earth-mamas, always nurturing, always forgiving, always sweet, kind and loving.

I am sorry to rain on the lovely parade of adoring mom-and-child social media posts.

But really, my friends, if we look beyond the personal to the political and planetary, can we afford to be complacent?

I want to see a world in which mothering, and parenting, is treated as the most important and well-rewarded job in the world.

I want to see our educational sector doing everything possible to foster creative thinking and self-confidence in our children.

I want to see a world in which people who choose to devote themselves to parenting, when their children are young, are REWARDED for this rather than penalized.

I want to see our steadfast support of GAIA, our beautiful earthly Mother, acknowledged as the most important political stance we could take.

I know this is possible because it is already happening in other countries.

It’s not a crazy idea!

I am sorry to be angry on Mother’s Day.

Please give me a like if you understand why ANGER is an important incubator for CHANGE.

Mothers: yeah, we’ll do anything for our children.

Will you—politicians, business leaders—do something for us?

Grandma Mildred and baby Eric

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to “Pray with our Feet” at the Climate Marches for the Planet We Love

This morning I heard that the Sandisfield pipeline is set to go right by a beaver pond that hosts a Great Blue Heron rookery, full of heron mothers sitting on nests right now.

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When a pipeline like that goes through, we can see the disruption to big species like trees and herons, beavers and frogs. We can’t even fathom the disruption that happens at the root level. And should there be a rupture, the entire ecosystem would be blown away.

And yet Nature is so resilient. I often remind myself, when I get upset about tree cutting, that every beautiful meadow in my surroundings was once a rocky forest. Change is not always bad, and meadows are as valuable as woods—just ask any owl.

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But building pipelines in 2017…that is just stupid. I can’t say I’m happy to see forests cleared for solar fields either, but at least this is relatively clean energy that doesn’t endanger the earth and water with the potential for dirty oil or gas spills.

Investing in fossil fuel infrastructure at this late date in human history makes no sense. Despite the Heartland Institute’s efforts to sow lies about climate change, it’s real, and it’s already, as Bill McKibben warned us years ago, changing our planet from the one we were born on to.

The planet has seen such shifts before. Iconic species that once called this place home have vanished into extinction. Life on the planet has continued.

What has never happened before, as far as I am aware, is that a super-intelligent species like humans, knowing full well the causes and effects of our actions, willfully triggered climate change so dramatic that it brought about mass extinctions—and not just of companion species, but of we humans ourselves.

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Alberta CA tar sands

That is what we are doing when we continue to allow fossil fuel extraction, with all the fossil fuel burning necessary to get it to market and more burning. We are committing planetary murder-suicide, ecocide on a vast scale.

If we must go down into the night of extinction, I pray we do not so thoroughly contaminate the planet that regeneration will be impossible.

Are we capable of that? Could our nuclear weapons and reactors, our chemical poisons and our plastics render this planet inhospitable to life?

I don’t want our descendants to find out the answer to this the hard way. It’s a simulation worth casting, just so those in power have their eyes fully opened to the future that could be.

1200px-The_Last_of_the_Spirits-John_Leech,_1843When Scrooge was visited by the Ghosts of Past and Present, he was able to laugh off the sad visions they showed him, albeit uneasily. It was the nightmare scenarios presented by the Ghost of the Future that got him to change his ways, in a hurry.

I know that as a sad Cassandra my visions don’t carry much weight. But when our scientists show us, over and over again, the absolute necessity of shifting to renewable energy quickly—QUICKLY—or resigning ourselves to going down in the general ecocide of the planet, how can the lords of industrial capitalism continue to play dumb? How can they continue to build those pipelines, extract those tar sands, drill in our precious oceans?

How can we, who are aware, continue to let them have their way with us and the Earth we love?

See you at the Climate Marches tomorrow, people.

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For the Earth!

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Science geeks and nature buffs: joining forces to protect the Earth and ensure our future

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This Earth Day I met with a small but fierce group of women writers determined to use our words to defend and protect our Mother Earth.

The grief and love that poured from us was as palpable as the tears and laughter we inspired in each other.

I read some of the scenes from the Childhood section of my memoir, revealing how I was “a strange child,” who was much more comfortable out in the forests and fields than with other human beings. Together we wrote about the natural places or non-human friends who inspired us and kept us company in childhood.

One woman wrote about a beloved cat companion, who, she found out later in life, had been taken from her by her parents and dumped out of a car miles from home. The grief and love that came welling up out of her, decades after this loss and betrayal, had all of us in tears.

Others wrote about remarkable trees who stood sentinel over their childhood homes, and how, all these years later, they can still tap into the solid power and majesty of those childhood tree friends.

Later, led by my friend Jana Laiz, we wrote letters to Mother Earth. This was mine (unedited, just as it came flowing out of my pen into my workshop notebook):

“Mother, I am so sorry that we have been so destructive to you. I am so sorry that we are such a cruel, savage and thoughtless species. I often wonder how a species that can build soaring temples, write magnificent symphonies and fantastically sophisticated computer code—a species that can love with such devotion—can also be capable of such wanton, cruel torture and devastation of the natural world and our fellow species, the plants, animals, insects, birds and fish.

“We could be so much finer than we are. That old story of the Garden of Eden got it right. We were fallen and unworthy—but not because Eve desired a bite of apple, but because we did not know how to live peacefully there with the trees and the snakes and all.

“I wish the Judeo-Christian myth included better instructions on what to do once we were out on our own in the so-called wilderness. The Native Americans got good instructions. The Buddhists understood. But the Europeans, my tribe—we were told “be fruitful and multiply and subdue the Earth and her creatures.” That is what we have done, and as a result we are now 9 billion humans on this planet, close to wiping out the other species and undoing the ecological life support on which all of us depend.

“I know you wished us to prosper, Mother, as you do all your children. But I wouldn’t hold it against you now if you decided that you’d had enough of us humans. I think we’ve had our chance; we’ve blown it; and it’s time for some tough love.

“Time for us to own up to the consequences of our actions. Time for you to push the reset button, perhaps, and start the process of creation anew.”

Viewed soberly, it’s hard to deny that we may very well be living in the end times for the human civilizations that began some 5,000 years ago when Gilgamesh killed Humbaba, the guardian of the forest, and cut down the cedar forest to make his city.

It’s also hard to argue that the end of our destructive era is a bad thing.

On an Earth Day that also featured the biggest Marches for Science ever assembled on the planet, it behooves us to acknowledge that Science has been a mixed blessing for the Earth community.

17991179_10212501290152317_3238751945848981883_nOf course, in so many ways, science, technology and engineering have been amazing boons for humanity. Who wouldn’t be grateful for medical advances that enable us to live longer and better? Who wouldn’t admire the technological prowess that enables us to communicate instantaneously with people on the other side of the world, and to fly there and talk in person if we so desire? Of course, we all love the conveniences of modern engineering: water systems, cars and roads, houses that can be heated with a flick of switch in the winter, and cooled just as easily in the summer.

The benefits of science are too numerous to list. And yet, I have to ask: what price have we paid for all these modern conveniences? What price will our children and grandchildren still be paying, far into the future?

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Robin Wall Kimmerer

I was really grateful to see the wonderful statement by indigenous scientists, including the ever-inspiring Robin Wall Kimmerer, pushing us to remember that “Indigenous science provides a wealth of knowledge and a powerful alternative paradigm by which we understand the natural world and our relation to it. Embedded in cultural frameworks of respect, reciprocity, responsibility and reverence for the earth, Indigenous science lies within a worldview where knowledge is coupled to responsibility and human activity is aligned with ecological principles and natural law, rather than against them.

“We need both ways of knowing,” the statement proclaims—indigenous and western—“if we are to advance knowledge and sustainability.”

This is truly the challenge of our time. Can we wed the simple and uncomplicated love for the natural world that we experienced as children with the ecological sophistication of indigenous science and the technological brilliance of western science?

Can we ensure that new generations of children will get their heads of out of their screens long enough to experience the wonder and magic of face time with the natural world?

Will we all—old and young, indigenous and settler, science geeks and nature buffs—join forces in the common goal of protecting and nurturing our common home, our Mother Earth?

We can—we must—and we will!

ENOUGH: An Eco-Feminist Easter Proclamation

Today is Easter, celebrated in the Christian world as the day that a tortured Jesus ascended from the Cross and was welcomed, reborn, into the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s also the end of the week of Passover, when Jewish people celebrate the miracle that saved their sons from death at the hands of their oppressive Egyptian overlords. And of course, it’s also Spring, when the entire northern hemisphere of Gaia garbs herself in green again and every living being revels in the rebirth of the plants that sustain us.

Note how the Judeo-Christian traditions weave persecution and war into the fabric of their most cherished myths. Christ died to wash away our sins, we are told, and the battles over his legacy have continued ever since. The Jews were reprieved at the original Passover, but hanging over that holiday is the knowledge of how many times in history they did not make it through alive.

In these early days of the 21st century, the peace and compassion that Christ died proclaiming is hard to find. Once again the overlords are engaged brutal power grabs backed by military might, destroying the lives of innocents and battering entire societies, entire ecosystems.

As the keening cries of grieving survivors rise up like smoke over the battlefields everywhere on our planet—and I am not just talking about humans, but about the beleaguered survivors of every species on Earth, all of us under constant assault by the lords of greedy destruction—a loud, deep voice seems to speak through me, proclaiming

ENOUGH.

It’s time to move beyond Abraham and the warring trinity of religions he spawned. It’s time to reconnect with our even more ancient indigenous traditions, which are steeped in a reverence for place—an understanding of the sacredness of the natural world, and our human role as caretakers of life.

It’s time for women to stand up as the bearers of life, for us to recognize our sacred responsibility to temper the aggression that has been ascendant during these past millennia of patriarchy.

Although it’s not fashionable to talk in terms of “the gender binary” these days, this evasion strikes me as yet another patriarchal ruse: when the women start getting strong, undercut them by making it taboo to talk about women and men. We’re all just humans, right?

Right, except that some humans—defined by their genitalia—still have more social and political power than others. And those humans—men—are still the ones who are out there fighting wars, running chemical companies, drilling oil, fracking gas, hunting animals, logging forests. Wherever you look, it’s men calling the shots of human civilization, and their playbook spells destruction for all of us.

I believe gender is a spectrum and our gender identities are fluid. All of us humans—men and women—have the capacity to be nurturers and protectors of life, as well as fierce warriors. Right now, we need a huge upsurge of the feminine, compassionate, gentle energy represented by that famous man, Jesus Christ, and in our time there is no reason why women shouldn’t lead the way.

Women, and men who honor the feminine principle of life, let us dedicate ourselves this Spring to reimagining a new relationship with Gaia, our Mother Earth. We are in a fight for our very existence, and our resistance will, as we saw at Standing Rock, be met with violence.

We will each have to decide how much we are willing to risk; what crosses we are willing to ascend; how much we are willing to make our lives an offering for all Life, as Christ did.

Let us understand that the wars being fought today in Christ’s name do not represent his spirit. Let us understand the true spirit of Resurrection this Easter: the eternal return of Life nurtured by the divine Feminine, our Mother Gaia. Let us vow, as Spring returns once more, to live and die in her service.

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Time to show what a real mother-bomb can do

“MOAB: The mother of all bombs.”

What trigger-happy soldier came up with this moniker for an agent of death, I wonder?

Bombs are not mothers, and they don’t have mothers. They are the evil spawn and agents of death and destruction, the opposite of the nurturing, generative power of motherhood.

This week the president gave his generals carte blanche to go ahead and play with their toys. No need to ask Congress for permission. No need to consult the taxpayers who are footing the bill for these multi-million-dollar death drills.

Apparently it’s the first time this big mother of a bomb has been used, and I can just imagine the excitement of the soldier-boys who got to see the big kaboom in Afghanistan. All that firepower to kill 36—count’em, thirty-six—Taliban militants.

It’s as if you called in a tank to eradicate an anthill.

I am trying to understand what is going on here, and in Syria, and in Russia, China and the USA. It’s plain to see that there are big, diabolical plots and conspiracies afoot, but as in any good mystery, it’s pretty hard to predict what’s coming next.

Clearly, Trump wanted to distract attention from his political and business ties to Russia–the investigations must have been getting hot.

So he takes advantage of human rights outrage over the gruesome civilian deaths by sarin gas to lob a few missiles at Syria—carefully warning the Russians first, so they could get out of the way. It’s still not clear who unleashed the gas on those poor people. It could all have been orchestrated by the Russians, including the limp, clearly staged American response.

Next up, time to remind everyone that there are still militants in Afghanistan to fight, and let the generals play war with some of their really big toys, the ones they haven’t been able to use yet. After all, Donny just promised them $54 billion extra in next year’s budget, so why not blow some stuff up and buy some even newer, cooler gadgets?

Is this all about cranking up the military industrial complex to keep the economic indicators running high, and the stock market along with it? Is that why the Chinese president, who just happened to be visiting Trump at his Winter Palace this week, didn’t seem to mind all the sturm und drang?

Meanwhile, on the home front, is the White House trying distract us ordinary folks from the health care debacle, poor education, opioid and suicide crisis and lack of jobs on the home front by stoking the fires of patriotism and warmongering?

Wouldn’t be the first time.

What’s different now can be summed up in two words: social media.

Pity the poor politicians and business leaders. It’s getting harder and harder to get away with anything anymore.

United Airlines just found that out the hard way. Hell no, you can’t drag a passenger off an airline, breaking his nose and his teeth in the process, and get away with it. Not with a whole planeful of passengers whipping out their phones and immediately beaming the incident to the world!

So far Donny has managed to keep his taxes out of the public eye, but how long can he continue to stonewall before Wikileaks or some other hacker pulls off the curtain to bare the naked emperor, and the pictures go viral?

Sadly, Americans have gotten used to bombs and drones being used in our name in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria. But don’t push us too hard, especially when you’re telling us there’s not enough money for enhancing life because the generals are too busy dealing out death.

I was glad to see a #RESIST group pull off an action in Trump Tower this week, unfurling a banner filled with leaflets from the balcony over the lobby, with signs proclaiming NO RAIDS, NO WALL, NO WAR, #RESIST glaring down over the phony glitziness of Trump’s Manhattan fortress.

The action was beamed immediately out through social media, the reverberations spreading just like the shock wave from a mother-bomb.

Real power is not dropping ordnance from 30,000 feet over a cave full of fanatics.

Real power is joining forces with your neighbors—around the corner and around the world, on social media–to say not here, not now, no way! We will not be a party to the war crimes, hate crimes and ecocide you and your financiers and generals are so hell-bent on committing.

Of course, that’s easy to say, not as easy to follow through on. Another Tax Day will come and go next week, and like everyone I know, I’ve dutifully paid my taxes—unlike our Commander in Chief. We’re paying, but we’re not happy–there are major protests planned across the US this weekend under the hashtag #ShowUsYourTaxes.

Where and how will I draw the line for myself? When will I say ENOUGH, stop tolerating what’s going on and get myself moving?

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I don’t know, but these questions are churning constantly in my mind. Under it all I hear the sweet innocents of our planet keening, and Gaia herself rumbling ominously.

When babies cry, mothers instinctively respond. Now, with every child on this planet threatened, I feel my mother hackles rising like the fierce flash of Kali’s wild eyes and the withering rage of the Mother Durga, goddesses so strong no demons could withstand them. Mothers are nurturing, yes, but threaten our children and our warrior energy rises like a rip tide.

Things have gone far enough. It’s time for us mothers to take back our power from the generals and show them what just what a real MOAB can do.

Cassandra Weeps

When Scott Pruitt was approved as head of the Environmental Protection Agency, we knew that the Trump administration was seriously opposed to environmental protection.

We knew he was pro-oil long before he approved the Keystone XL and Dakota Access pipelines, or appointed Exxon CEO Rex Tillerson to be Secretary of State.

We knew that this is a man who gropes pussy and doesn’t apologize. Who doesn’t even love animals enough to have a dog at his side (yes, this is the same man who has just approved of shooting hibernating bears and wolf pups in their dens).

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It’s no surprise that this is a man who upholds and exalts the worst aspects of humanity: our greed, short-sightedness and cruelty; the abuse of the weak and manipulation of the gullible.

As soon as those tallies added up on November 8, we knew what we were dealing with, and we’ve had the intervening months to let it all sink in.

The executive order rolling back the US commitment to the Paris Climate Treaty is just the latest proof that yes, we are dealing with a fucking maniac.

Those of you who have been reading Transition Times for a while may note that this is the very first time that I have ever sunk to the level of a curse word.

Sometimes, there is just no substitute.

This man is a FUCKING LUNATIC MORON.

He is like Stalin or Hitler on steroids—not just out to annihilate a certain type of human, but bent on annihilating the entire Earth community, from the coral in the Great Barrier Reef to the bears in the Arctic to the humans in drought-prone areas and everything and everyone in-between.

Let us be honest with ourselves and admit that he and his henchmen may succeed.

There are a lot of indicators right now pointing to “game over” for the Anthropocene.

Sometimes I walk in the forest and feel in my gut that this moment couldn’t come too soon. Civilizational collapse for humanity, the sooner the better, would be the best possible outcome for every other living being on this planet.

Other times I am filled with compassion for my young sisters and brothers, for those who are yet to be born on this planet, and how sad it is that their chances of enjoying the marvelous benevolence of our Mother Earth will be cut short by the stupidity of current generations.

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No one likes a Cassandra, and I don’t relish the role. But I cannot sit by and say nothing as the future of humans and all our relations, the other dear species of flora and fauna that we’ve evolved with in this long Holocene period—the birds, bees and bats, the deer, bears and cats; the mangroves, maples and mahoganies; the whales, salmon and octopus—all the familiar companions that make our Earth a home—are faced with the prospect of being swept away into the dark night of extinction.

There is no way to put a happy face on this, other than to remember the dinosaurs and remind ourselves that all things must pass; that our Earth is endlessly creative and will continue to evolve past the spectacular failure of humans.

Finger-pointing will not help. Trump’s fault? The oil barons’ fault? Our own fault for letting them gain so much power over our world? All of the above, and much more.

But there is nothing to be gained from casting blame.

We have passed the point of stopping the juggernaut of climate change. Now it falls to us to adapt, adapt, try to survive.

What will that look like? Reducing our dependence on fossil fuels; increasing local sources of renewable energy and food; hardening our defenses against storms, floods and droughts; remembering how our ancestors managed to survive without freezers, air conditioners, cars or computers.

All of these taken-for-granted aspects of modern life may soon become luxuries in the brave new world being ushered in by our politicians and the oil men.

I told you, no one likes a Cassandra.

But this is what I see coming to pass. All the auguries and omens are there. We have entered the Anthropocene and it looks like hell.

You will have to forgive me. This is the first post in which I have ever indulged in a curse word. And it’s also the first post in which I cannot seem to bring you to a hopeful conclusion.

The day I truly lose hope, you will not hear my voice.

But today my hope is at a low ebb, guttering.

Sometimes, you just have to accept the reality that the most you can hope for is a more hopeful tomorrow.

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This International Women’s Day, I Stand for Life

The good news this International Women’s Day has to do with resistance.

This year’s unprecedented Women’s March on Washington brought women and our allies out into the American public square demanding our rights, in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.

Of course, never in my memory has the top American official, our President, been a man who is a gloating and unapologetic sexual predator of women; a man who treats his wife like a porn star bimbo and believes that serious women who dare to aspire to power are “nasty.”

By acquiescing in a warped political process that propelled this man into power, Americans have become bystanders to his nasty, discriminatory behavior towards women. “Make America Great Again” seems to mean “put women back in their place again”—in the home, making babies and waiting to serve their all-powerful men.

Well, no. Just NO.

Our foremothers did not fight so long and so hard for women’s equality just to see the current generation swallow our bile and tears and accept the rolling back of our rights as free and equal human beings.

Everywhere you look you can see women standing strong against this new tide of injustice.

The powerful women of Standing Rock are now flooding into Washington DC, along with thousands of other Native people and allies, for this weekend’s Native Rights marches. The Native people of America, and indeed the world, are leading the way on insisting that humans stop destroying our Mother Earth, and become her loving stewards.

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Tipis on the National Mall, March 7, 2017. Photo by Kandi Mossett

Although there are so many important issues to focus on this International Women’s Day, for me all of them can be summed up fairly simply: either you love and support life, or you hate and destroy life.

I CHOOSE LIFE.

That means I choose to stand up for children, our precious new generations, who have the right to quality education, good nutritious food, a loving family and community, and a healthy environment.

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My first child.

I stand for the right of every human being to play a meaningful role in their community, and to be rewarded and respected for their contributions. Of course, this means that women should have control over their bodies in every situation, just as men do.

I stand for the rights of animals, who should not be made to suffer…who should not be driven to extinction…because of the thoughtless greed of human beings. I stand for the protection of our environment, for the rights of Mother Nature, without whom none of us could live for even a moment.

This International Women’s Day, I give thanks and honor to every woman who has stood up for Life, sometimes in the face of fierce persecution, sometimes even giving her own life for the cause—like the environmental activist Berta Caceres, who we lost in 2016 because she refused to back down when the loggers and drillers advanced towards her community.

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Berta Caceres

Yes, it can be dangerous to stand up and resist the forces of destruction, to say NO to those who would silence us and reinstate the supremacy of the patriarchy, now rearing up in its most potently savage form: racist, misogynist, elitist, imperialist, extractivist, militarist, corporatist, extremist…these are the times we are living in, and they demand an equally potent resistance movement.

Marching, calling, sending post cards, organizing in our communities, networking with kindred spirits across the globe…all this is necessary, and more.

All our activism must be rooted in a deep sense of purpose, a commitment that must run like sap up our core: the commitment to STAND FOR LIFE.

Every great successful movement of the past has been fueled by the moral imperative to do what is right, to live in alignment with our most deeply held values. “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal…” was a revolutionary statement in its time, which was shifted by the courageous work of 19th and 20th century activists to include women, people of color and non-landowners under the banner of equality.

We are living in another revolutionary moment. It is a transition time, when if we fail to recognize the intrinsic value of our most precious resources—clean Earth, Water, Air and the life they support—we will soon find our entire civilization swept away by the storms, floods and droughts of Earth recalibrating herself in a massive reset leading into a new epoch.

This International Women’s Day, I vow to stand, as a woman and a human being, for the health and wellbeing of Mother Earth and all her children, human and non-human alike.

Join me.

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Looking for a good place to start? Register for the Pachamama Alliance Game Changer Intensive course, starting a new series in March 2017. It’s free, and it’s a powerful way to connect with kindred spirits who also want to STAND FOR LIFE.

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