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I am deeply grateful to Ruth Friddle, a fellow permaculturist and fellow member of Transformative Adventures, for allowing me to run this gem as a “copy-paste guest post.” Thanks and much love to you Ruth! And, dear readers, I hope you enjoy this post as much as I do!

“Recently I listened to someone share their utter despair of the life they were experiencing: life-threatening illness, break-up of 20+years relationship. Another person shared their debilitating addiction to prescription meds and alcohol and the trickle-down effects those were having on their life. Someone else talked about the depth of loneliness and despair they were feeling from all the isolation and distancing they’ve been enduring for the past year and a half. They all said they were at rock bottom.

“The dreaded rock bottom, where all seems lost, all options gone, where everything seems to teeter on the edge of life and death. Physical pain. Mental and emotional anguish. Spiritual hell. I suspect we’ve all been to those places in varying degrees of intensity at different times in our lives. I certainly have.

“Hitting rock bottom sucks. There is no pleasure or joy in that fall, no moon-beams or unicorns as a booby prize once we’ve arrived. There is just this endless unknown that, more often than not, we fill with every worst-case scenario our thoughts can dredge up. Sometimes those scenarios playout. Sometimes they don’t. No guarantees.

“I’m not sure there are any answers, but lately, I’ve been wondering if maybe befriending the rock bottom we keep hitting might hold the relief we seek. Rocks have a lot to teach us: to listen, to be still, to wait in silence, to trust the solidity and strength the rock offers when we’re lying there, on our back, with no where to look but up.

“While hitting rock bottom is a terrifying and miserable fall, maybe rock bottom itself, is the safest place to be. Maybe being on that rock solid foundation makes everything else just clouds in the sky, coming and going. Clouds that may demand our attention but can only be wisely dealt with from the position of rock bottom. Everything is much clearer when you’re at rock bottom. You’re not lost in the clouds of thoughts, trying to figure it all out. You’re resting on that unchangeable place that allows for complete surrender because there’s no where else to go.

“However horrifying it might be to sometimes suddenly find ourselves there, I wonder….could it be that the dreaded rock bottom, once we’re there, is actually the best seat in the house?”

And my comment: Yes Ruth. My experience concurs with your observations. I hit an extreme rock bottom some years back that further turned out to be a trap-door to a cascading series of rock-bottoms. At one point when I really thought I was well and truly done for, I took a deep breath and decided to try to befriend it, and the relief came almost immediately — and always thereafter when I was willing to befriend it and learn from the rocks. It has ended up bringing me so many riches. I now know how to surf or navigate the rocks, so when it hits again as I am sure it will, I will be ready. This is one example of anti-fragility. Thank you Ruth for this deeply insightful and beautifully written post.

‪Ummmm … Yeah … this bathroom is BIG, all right! What IS the vast cavernous space in the middle supposed to be used for, I can’t imagine. Pre-bath ballroom dancing lessons or yoga classes, maybe? Or a helicopter landing pad (if you opened up the ceiling)???

Sometimes I feel like an alien in my own country. USA – we do things big! ‬

Building choices are a huge factor in the eco footprint of modern industrialized humans. Not only do the materials themselves have a footprint, but the finished building itself has an ongoing energy footprint (for heating and cooling of air, mostly).

Note, I’m not saying big houses can’t be eco-friendly! One of the most eco-friendly ways to live is to have a multigenerational household, or share a house with several friends. (“Golden Girls” style.)

What I am saying is that we shouldn’t build huge spaces just because they convey an image of opulence. And we need to be deliberate in our design; avoid needless use of space and materials.

When I was growing up (in the 1960s and 70s), my Mom had a phrase “wretched excess” that she’d use for extravagant displays of wealth. The things she labeled with that phrase were a lot less wretchedly excess than a lot of the bathrooms and kitchens I see advertised nowadays for middle-class homes!

And an afterthought on the mega-bathroom: Another thought I had was that maybe this huge space is deliberately designed for maneuvering a wheelchair or hospital-style bed into the bath area? Although the narrow entry door would seem to preclude that.

Tough talk for fellow environmentalists: If we want a society powered by clean renewables, WE as individuals must take the lead; we must demonstrate via our own lifestyles that it is possible to live on little enough energy to not need fossil fuels or nuclear. Not only possible, but liberating and life-enriching.

If we don’t do this, we have no business being outraged or even surprised to see fracking & pipelines desecrating the land; government and corporations exercising deadly determination to mine fossil fuels. We “greens” need to take leadership via our own lifestyles. Make Ultra-Low Footprint Cool!

How low can we go?

People often want to know (rightly) if this or that category of stuff gets recycled. And people often get upset (again, rightly) when they find out their city or county is no longer recycling this or that category. These questions come up all the time in the neighborhood and in local online groups.

For me, it is all too complicated to keep track of. And anyway, the information can change at a moment’s notice. As with so many things in life, I find it easiest and most eco-friendly to adopt an across-the-board approach.

Myself, I always operate as if NOTHING gets recycled. No plastic, no glass, no metal. (Though in fact I know we can recycle metals by bringing them to the plant in Holly Hill. I have done that some years back on occasion. I heard recently that the current amount they are paying for aluminum is 55 cents a pound; YMMV.)

But in my everyday life, I have always acted as if NOTHING gets recycled. And I make my choices accordingly. Refuse, Reduce, Reuse.

And when I end up with plastic containers, glass bottles, or other stuff I cannot manage to refuse or reuse or repurpose, I just try not to beat myself up. And I do put it in the recycling bin anyway just in case someone, somewhere in the convoluted chain, might be still out there recycling it.

Housecleaning is a major leverage point for reducing one’s footprint while also conserving our precious time, money, and personal energy.

To put it another way, obsessive cleanliness standards (led by the industrial neat-fanatic fussbudget culture of my country, the USA) generate a huge eco footprint, even just for the plastic from all those containers of cleaning products — let alone the various machines and appliances; and the environmental impact of the chemicals themselves.

A few years back, I realized I didn’t need to buy any cleaning products if I didn’t want to. Water, elbow-grease, baking soda, vinegar go a long way. A couple of drops of your favorite essential oil can add a nice touch and even help repel bugs. Personally I favor menthol-y or citrus-y scents.

When you clean your house, do it for yourself and your family, not for other people. (And if you have a nitpicky person under your own roof, feel free to hand THEM the broom or the sponge or the laundry basket!)

What I realized at some point is that many of the so-called “reasonable standards” of cleanliness are being imposed on us by TV, movies, cleaning product advertisers, and manufacturers themselves. Oh, and sometimes, people in your life (either past or present) who just like to nitpick and criticize. One piece of reassurance I always give people is to look inward and decide for yourself what your own standards of cleanliness are. Don’t let anyone else dictate them. Don’t let other people’s critical tapes play in your head!!

My main cleaning tools are a broom, a mop, and a toilet brush. I have rugs on tile floor, rather than carpet, so I don’t ever need to vacuum; just take the rugs outside and shake ’em out. I did inherit a mini handheld vacuum cleaner which I have used a time or two to suck up crumbs or other dry spills from tight spaces, but I could have gotten those with the plain ol’ broom and dustpan if I had had to.

What are your cleaning challenges, if any? Might there be an opportunity to reduce your workload?

PS. We can actually damage our immune systems by striving to make our living environments perfectly clean and germ-free!

PPS. Just because you like or even love someone doesn’t mean you have to invite them inside your house. Covid showed us that!

As someone who does a lot of public speaking, I find that writing my thoughts down is very valuable. Do I therefore always take the time to do it? No. I should though, and am currently trying to do it more.

In my experience, writing can be helpful to my speaking (including conversations with people) in three main ways:

• For those times when I’m feeling hesitant or anxious about speaking my thoughts out loud (or anxious about being heard and taken seriously if I do speak them out loud), writing helps me strengthen my voice, articulate my thoughts.

• For those times when I know what I want to say, and am pretty sure people will listen, but I just can’t seem to boil my thoughts down to an organized and concise, listener-friendly package, writing helps me get focused and increases the likelihood that I will remember all the points I want to cover, and also be respectful of other people’s time. (I do sometimes read from a prepared piece of writing, but I only do that if I really feel I absolutely have to. Reading from a page isn’t usually as engaging as just speaking naturally.)

• For those times when I’m in an agitated emotional state, or just feeling like my brain is an overstuffed, jumbled attic, writing helps me “get my words out” so I’m less likely to inflict that emotional state or jumbled attic on fellow humans, whether in meetings or informal conversations or what have you.

Lately, I’m feeling I need to kick my speaking up a notch. I need to get a lot more organized, less rambly. Some of my most important speaking opportunities are the citizens’ comment times in local government meetings. At City Commission we actually have a time limit; it’s 3 minutes. I think this is a very appropriate time limit, and unlike some of my fellow citizens I don’t mind it at all. It is a challenge though!

At other public meetings, citizens don’t have a time limit. But I want to engage people, respect everyone’s time, and be fair to others who are waiting to speak. Yesterday in several different public forums I felt that I talked way too long and rambly! People generally consider me a good, engaging speaker but I know I have room for improvement in the areas of conciseness and organization.

To others who might be in the same boat, I would say please keep on showing up and making your voice heard! If you notice things about your public speaking that you want to improve, great — go for it! But also, don’t beat yourself up, and don’t use whatever flaws you think you have as a speaker to keep you from sharing your voice with your community.

And for those of you who just hate speaking out loud in front of people, writing is also a great way to talk to people. Writing is really an amazing human invention, come to think of it. Writing allows us to reach people all around the world and across time.

Some of the people who’ve made the biggest impact on my life are people I will never meet because they live on the other side of the world or because they died centuries ago. If they hadn’t put their words in writing, I’d never have gotten the benefit of their wisdom and encouragement.

From an eco-footprint standpoint, what I love about the written word is that it’s a low-tech, low-bandwidth means of transmission.

Write your words down; they might really help someone. They might even help make the change you want to see in the world.

Even if fossil fuels were clean, or even if electric cars came with zero environmental problems from mining the materials for the batteries and so on … do you like the landscapes we have built around cars? I find these landscapes desolate, alienating … and ugly.

Even if we could engineer some way to survive without flowers and bees and birds … would you want to live in a world where all the flowers and bees and birds were gone? Even if we could engineer a way for humans to keep cool without needing any shade, would you want to live in a world without trees? I find our endless acres of scalped, edged, and vacuumed turfgrass hot, desolate … and ugly.

I am staggered sometimes at our culture’s tolerance for ugliness in the name of “practicality” or profit or convenience.

My parents used to love traveling to Italy. My Mom said she loved how the culture seemed to put beauty first in all things, or at least seemed to have zero tolerance for ugliness.

Sometimes I wonder if I would care about the environment as much if my deep need for beauty were not a factor. I don’t have a quick answer for that.

One thing I do know is that the city-owned empty lot next to me is constantly being mowed, to the point that it’s usually brown with huge bare patches of sand. It also gets straight-edged and (until recently, when I succeeded in my efforts to get the city to at least stop the chemicals) drenched with pesticides and herbicides. That lot is being turned into a desert; the mowing and edging is causing unnecessary financial expense, unnecessary noise pollution and air pollution. And it has an unacceptable opportunity cost in terms of the ecologically valuable plants we could be growing in that space. Native plants for wildlife; edible plants for humans. And, it is ugly. And this is supposed to be our mainstream standard of a properly cared-for landscape: the straight-edged buzzcut grass rectangle.

Another thing I do know is that the best fuel for eco activism (or any other kind of activism) is love of something. My something just happens to be beauty. At least it’s my main something. And I don’t want a beautiful world for just me (I can easily create that, and often have); I want a beautiful world for everyone.

On a related note, some categories of ugly that I find particularly vexing: unnecessary noise; unnecessary and destructive labor (such as removal of Spanish moss from the oaks in the historic cemetery diwn the street from me); fancy gadgets that are not intuitively easy to understand, and make the users feel stupid; casual everyday violence from ripping out “weeds” (plants that one has not bothered to learn the value of) and scraping up leaves and grinding stumps — to gentrification and “urban renewal” and HOA landscaping standards; to unkindness on social media.

That’s all for the moment; I think about this subject a lot and may have more to say later.

In my book, I talk about the power of “finding your ‘why’.” My main “why” seems to be beauty. (And, for me, the sounds of nature unspoiled by mechanized noise are a subset of beauty, as is the natural darkness of night.) What’s yours?