Bless the English teachers hearts, but the most boring question you can ask about a poem is “what does it mean?” It’s why people hate poetry. Such a question assumes a poem is a riddle. That, for some reason, this writer decided to eschew plain speech in favor of “sounding smart.” That, if the writer wanted to, they could have simply used other, clearer words to say exactly the same thing.
When reading books or watching documentaries about sustainable, regenerative practices, it is a matter of when, not if, a person will quote Wendell Berry. The impact he has had on the world is amazing. He has had obvious impact on the environmental movement and “back to the land” organic small farms. He was also highly influential on Michael Pollan and Alice Waters—who in turn have become enormously influential. Yet the Wendell Berry we admire might not have been.
As I said earlier today, I finished reading In Limestone Country by Scott Russell Sanders. While I was recording that fact in my reading log (which stretches back to 2005!), I realized that it was the first book I’ve finished since April. To be fair, I’ve been busy and a lot of my reading over the past several months has been articles, etc., aimed at helping Rachel and me with our gardening project.
Nothing makes the commonplace come alive quite like the work of a skilled writer. I’ve lived in limestone country all my life. I’ve heard the stories of how our stone built some of the great public buildings in America and brought prosperity to our area in the early twentieth century. Today, limestone monuments can be seen on buildings and in graveyards throughout Lawrence and Monroe counties. Porches, like mine, made of limestone.
In a recent post, Robert Rackley riffs on an article by Jon Askonas at the New Atlantis arguing that Jon Stewart paved the way—however unintentionally—for Tucker Carlson. I haven’t yet read the piece (I will over the weekend) but I have to say that I agree with the premise. The Iraq War, the War on Terror, the Bush presidency generally were formative times for me. Voting for Bush in 2000 was the last time I voted for a Republican for president.
In July 2020 I wrote the following: Two reasons people change: “Mugged by reality.” Someone’s experience creates an irreconcilable rupture with their previous beliefs. At this point they either double down on the previous beliefs and ignore experience or they change. Participate in the universe’s ongoing process of change. This requires a disciplined openness to reality. This does not come naturally; rather, it is spiritual work. It may be, in part, what the Taoists meant by wu-wei.
Jack Leahy makes a a defense of hypocritical asceticism. Basically, we have to start somewhere. Even small efforts have an effect. In the process of living out a hypocritical asceticism a funny thing happens–we are changed. … In practicing hypocritical asceticism I am carving out a little zone of freedom within myself. This is similar to what I said in this post, that a better goal than purity is the avoidance of servitude.
The way we organize our year is a reflection of our values—that is a commonly observed truism. My family and I share many of the usual holidays with the wider American culture. We also decline to observe a few of them for various reasons. In some cases, we weight the days differently than usual, or attach differing significance. The seasonal change we’re experiencing here in Indiana has me thinking about all of this.
Just as earlier writers would cite scripture to prove their arguments, modern writers cite science. And there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. Science often makes claims that intersect in intriguing ways with religion. Nevertheless, I am suspicious of supporting religious claims with scientific findings—and not for the usual reasons given by those influenced by the New Atheists, i.e., science is “true” and religion is “false” or, at best, pre-scientific attempts to explain the world.
Charles Eisenstein makes an important point here: My main message to the environmental movement is to shift the narrative away from our own destruction. From “Change or we won’t survive,” to “Change or we will continue to lose what is beautiful and sacred.” It is a shift into love. This is important for three reasons: two practical and one spiritual What if (if!) the threat from climate change has been overstated, especially by those who have fallen prey to the imperatives of social media to drive engagement through hype and fear?