earthweal weekly challenge: THE COMMONS

 

First, thanks to Sherry for last week’s thoughtful and heartfelt Everwild Challenge. Great work and the responses were wild!

It’s good to be back. The war in Ukraine has affected my mood and verse, but I hope renewed earthweal presence will help.

Earth is on fire in so many ways that is re-defining normal. A wildfire near Flagstaff, Arizona, continues to explode in windy dry weather, and much of the Southwest is similarly vulnerable. An even broader realm of fire engulfs western, central, southern and eastern Siberia, burning an area twice as large as when they raged this time last year. Russian attention is elsewhere, depriving locals of fire-fighting elsewhere. The burning in Ukraine is more directly man-made — fires roar and smoulder in ruined cities and villages across the country — all of it the signia of the politics of extraction and domination. As usual, the push for energy independence has been eclipsed by crises of oil. So we burn.

Here in my country, white ragers boil dark sentiment for our upcoming midterm elections, especially the Tweedledee and Tweedledumdum Republican governors of Texas and Florida, Greg “Yosemite Sam” Elliott and Ron “Swamp Thang” Desantis. Climate change denial is proving especially damaging on the human psyche, as monsters like these turn a smoldering animus against everything not white, Christian and obsolete. Republlican supermajorities rule both state legislatures.

Here in Florida, Desantis portrays Disney World as an agent of California woke, and the Florida Department of Education (whose commissioner is a longtime DeSantis crony) has rejected dozens of math books on the grounds they “contained prohibited topics” from social-emotional learning to critical race theory. And this week, a man in California was arrested for threatening to bomb and shoot the offices of the dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster for changing the definition of such gendered words as “boy, girl, and trans.” In the downward spiral of outraged dumb, a fiery contingent of my reality is headed straight down the Putin potty in ruscist (a cute new word merging “Russian” and “fascist”) and racist ire. Cinders of the burnt world.

Much may be beyond saving, but all we can do is continue to cultivate the region between human and wild that is earthweal. This is our commons.

Gary Snyder writes about the commons in The Practice of the Wild.

Between the extremes of deep wilderness and the private plots of farmstead lies a territory which is not suitable for crops. In earlier times, it was used jointly by the members of a given tribe or village. This area, embracing both the wild and semi-wild, is of critical importance. It is necessary for the health of the wilderness because it adds big habitat, overflow territory, and room for wildlife to fly and run. It is essential even to an agricultural village economy because its natural diversity provides the many necessities and amenities that the privately held plots cannot. It enriches the agrarian diet with game and fish. The shared land supplies firewood, poles and stone for building, clay for the kiln, herbs, dye, plants, and much else. Just as in a foraging economy it is especially important for seasonal and full-time open range for cattle, horses, goats, pigs and sheep. (32)

One trope here at earthweal is to explore, widen and celebrate the commons of animal and human, vegetable and mineral in a future sustainable for all. Sometimes it feels like a rote exercise, but in an age of diminishing choices, earthweal remains the productive alternative to despair. It is in that commons that we can turn climate grief into hope.

 

Snyder, again:

We have to make a world-scale “natural contract” with the oceans, air, the birds in the sky. The challenge is to bring the whole victimized world of “common pool resources” into the mind of the commons. As it stands now, any resource on Earth that is not nailed down will be seen as fair game to the timber buyers or petroleum geologists form Osaka, Rotterdam, or Boston. The pressures of growing populations and the powers of the entrenched (but fragile, confused and essentially leaderless) economic systems warp the likelihood of any of us seeing clearly our perception of how entrenched they are may also be an illusion.

Sometimes it seems unlike that a society as a whole can make wise choices. Yet there is not choice but to call for the “recovery of the commons” — and this in a modern world which doesn’t quite realize what it has lost. Take back, like the night, that which is shared by all of us, that which is our larger being. There will be no “tragedy of the commons” greater than this: if we do not recover the commons — regain personal, local, community and people’s direct involvement in sharing (in being) the web of the wide world — that world will keep slipping away. Eventually our complicated industrial capitalist/socialist mixes will bring down much of the living system that supports us. And it is clear, the loss of a local commons heralds the end of self-sufficiency and dooms the vernacular culture of the region…

… The commons is a curious and elegant social institution within which human beings once lived free political lives while weaving through natural systems. The commons is a level of organization of human society that involves the nonhuman. The level above the local commons is the bioregion. Understanding the commons and its role within the larger regional culture is one more step toward integrating ecology with economy. (39-40)

An ecologically-founded economy: that is good vision for this dim time. If it is possible to write an ecological poetry, then we here have the means to describe and embrace the commons in which future possibility can grow.

For this challenge, write about THE COMMONS. How would you describe that half-wild, half-human habitat of sharing and sustenance in your locale? Maybe it’s a park or an area just outside of town of diverse borders. Or maybe it’s a region of your imagination, fed and sustained by your greener thought.

Let reclaim our commons before it mined and lumbered and burnt!

— Brendan

 

AUTUMN IN THE SKERRIES

Thomas Tranströmer

Storm

Suddenly, out walking, he meets the giant
oak, like an ancient petrified elk, with
mile-wide crown in front of September’s sea,
the dusk-green fortress.

Storm from the north. When rowanberry
clusters ripen. Awake in the dark, he hears
constellations stamping in their stalls, high
over the oak tree.

Evening-Morning

The moon’s mast has rotted and the sail shriveled.
A gull soars drunkenly over the sea.
The jetty’s thick quadrangle is charred. Brush
            bends low in the dusk.

Out on the doorstep. Daybreak slams and slams in
the sea’s stone gateway, and the sun flashes
close to the world. Half-choked summer gods
           fumble in sea mist.

Ostinato

Under the buzzard’s circling dot of stillness
the waves race roaring into the light,
chewing on their bridles of seaweed, snorting
           froth across the shore.

The earth is blind in darkness where the bats
take bearings. The buzzard stops and becomes a star.
The waves race roaring forth and snort
          froth across the shore.

transl. May Swenson

 

JUST LYING ON THE GRASS AT BLACKWATER

Mary Oliver

I think sometimes of the possible glamour of death —
that it might be wonderful to be
lost and happy in the green grass —
or to be the green grass! —
or, maybe the pink rose, or the blue iris,
or the affable daisy, or the twirled vine
looping its way skyward — that it might be perfectly peaceful
to be the shining lake, or the hurrying, athletic river,
or the dark shoulders of the trees
where the thrush each evening weeps himself into an ecstasy.

I lie down in the fields of goldenrod, and everlasting.
Who could find me?
My thoughts simplify. I have not done a thousand things
or a hundred things, but, perhaps, a few.
As for wondering about answers that are not available except
in books, though all my childhood I was sent there
to find them, I have learned
to leave all that behind

as in summer I take off my shoes and my socks,
my jacket, my and, and go on
happier, through the fields. The little sparrow
with the pink beak
call out, over and over, so simply — not to me

but the whole world. All afternoon
I grow wiser, listening to him,
soft, small, nameless fellow at the top of some weed,
enjoying his life. If you can sing, do it. If not,

even silence can feel, to the world, like happiness,
like praise,
from the pool of shade you have found beneath the everlasting.

— from Blue Iris (2004)

8 thoughts on “earthweal weekly challenge: THE COMMONS

  1. I love that idea of the commons – necessary buffer between the wild and the tamed – and I do see earthweal as a place of gathering to share and comfort, as in old times smaller villages helped and supported each other. The mindset of the extreme right astounds me with its stubbornly limited and archaic view………the look in their eyes as they spout their lies (“I dont remember. I dont recall. I dont know”) is chilling – I watched Navalny last night. putin’s face! Gah! Imagine living in a country where you go to jail for 20 years for having your own dissenting thoughts. No wonder the Ukrainians are fighting so hard. They are fighting for us too and I wish we were helping, not just sending stuff.

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    • Pip pip, bravo Sherry! You are straight on correct. I have come to my own own quiet conclusion, that the “obvious stupid” are perhaps part insecure and part unenlightened. They fear the world as a free place for people, or the wild places of the world to remain, because they understand only control to feel “safe”. They are actually terrified of freedom itself, any type of freedom, because they, at their heart, are terrified people. So they try, with an iron hand, to squelch their own fear, by brutally flailing for control. They never understood the reality that the world was always going to seek freedom, be it the people, or nature itself. Growth is inherent in the very core of everything living. Every seed, in its organic nature, and that includes the human seed, seeks to evolve, to change, to grow. It does not seek to be controlled. Only learning the nature and essence of balance, can the beautiful chaos of growth, be embraced and loved, be truly cherished. How one gives this insight to the truly ignorant — I don’t know. But it is this true understanding of balance, in this genuine acceptance of growth and evolution, in the grasp that everything must constantly change. in pursuit of its/their difference, it’s therein lies the true beauty of life. Those blind to this, or fearful of this, turn to brute force to stem and disrupt this necessary change, and the beautiful differences. To quote brilliant poet and naturalist Gary Snyder, people must learn to “love the world”. We as a human race, have created so many isms, on so many levels, the idea of loving the world as a whole has been run over by insecurity. Not sure if we can reel it back in, but the best place to start is to destroy the separatist “isms”. Idealistic, yes — but correct? Also yes. We have created countries during the time when global communication and cooperation, was quite limited. We have created religions, so the few could control the many, in times of greed and fear. We have created political positions and parties, to champion specific views, perspectives, and agendas. I firmly feel it is time to set forth focusing our views, perspectives, and agendas on creating a singular effective world. Not certain we have evolved to that level of global insight and intelligence yet to accomplish this. We have mant fancy gadgets, but we are still a primitive people. There will be pain before there is this pleasure of unity. And I agree with everything you are saying Sherry about the chilling horror that what is happening in Ukraine represents — but perhaps, this can prove to be the crucible in which the creation of a unified world can begin. Of course, this is sll just my opinion. You havd writtdn an strong, inspiring piece here Sherry. It sparked me to thinking..

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  2. You scored high today, embracing Gary Snyder. He is my favorite poet, my sane hero. I love the wild of the world as he does. To quote brother Gary, “Doom scenarios, even though they might be true, are not politically or psychologically effective. The first step . . . is to make us love the world rather than to make us fear for the end of the world” It is difficult at times to muster proactivity — not to fall under the doom cloud, in this day and age. So much stupidity being spewed so brashly, tends to knock one down a bit. But how right Mr. Snyder is when he says “love the world”, celebrate what has not been bruised and wasted, or destroyed. Let this love shine its brightest light on the foolish, bright enough that we open (or blind) the eyes of the fools. I prefer the former, giving them sight. But perhaps that is wishful thinking. Besides, the later will make impossible their facility to cause anymore damage. Love you Gary — you are, and have been, my hero!

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    • Thanks Rob – Snyder is a deep earth poet, for sure – in the face of so much destruction – ’tis the Anthropocene’s harsh iron bell — there is earth grief and earth hope, which means loving the world, this world, in all its damaged glory.

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  3. We need more commonality, more sharing of resources. I saw a graph today showing how bus usage has dropped since buses became deregulated – basically, car use has increased massively everywhere except London, where buses remained a public service. We are stronger when we act together, happier when we share.

    Our local town managed to keep its commons – it’s a semi-wild space where kids roam, dogs are walked, dens are built. The custodians have planted a native tree collection, there’s a wild-flower meadow. It’s very special.

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