Who I Listen To

This morning I woke up feeling very pessimistic about the future of humankind. It happens sometimes. The road-widening plan (that I wrote about in my previous post) had me feeling down. And I just wasn’t quite feeling up to calling or emailing FDOT with my comments quite yet.

So instead, I called people who helped me cheer up. And I noticed which kinds of people I call when I need a shot in the arm.

There are pessimistic people who are not taking action. I never call those folks when I need a boost.

There are optimistic people who aren’t taking action. I don’t call them either, because I don’t want to be boosted into la-la happy denial land. I want to be boosted back into the land of willingness to take action.

And that brings me to the group who are my favorite to talk with when I need a boost: optimistic people who are taking action. I chatted with a couple of those friends/fellow civic activists, and felt miraculously cured of my sour somber sluggishness.

Finally, there are people who are pessimistic but are nonetheless taking action. I find those folks somewhat rare, as, in my experience, people who are taking action tend to be at least somewhat optimistic. This other subset of people does exist, though. And despite their pessimism, I can still get a boost from talking with them because they are, after all, taking action.

I really do get the most out of talking with my “optimist and taking action” friends, though, when I need a boost.

When I’m feeling centered, I sometimes reach out to the “pessimist taking no action” people, and invite them to join me in taking action. Or just encourage them to explore other viewpoints. They don’t always join me, and they’re not always willing to explore other viewpoints. But sometimes they do, and they get a boost. Circle of life! We can all be each other’s battery chargers.

On the topic of getting a shot in the arm from action-taking optimists … As it happens, I’ve just finished reading Nature’s Best Hope: A New Approach To Conservation that Starts in Your Yard. This book is by Douglas Tallamy, an entomologist and ecosystems-restoration advocate who’s been getting a lot of press lately for encouraging people to “re-wild” their outdoor spaces. He’s a great writer; really knows his stuff and communicates deep joy and enthusiasm in his mission. He’s really optimistic and he’s taking action.

While I was reading his book, I felt gloomy at times, because the facts in the book paint a really dire picture in intricate detail. As just one example, I never knew that caterpillars, whose numbers have declined to a fraction of healthy-ecosystem levels, are such an essential food source for birds. It seems hopeless! But then I thought: Wait a minute! Here’s a guy who’s extremely knowledgeable about the problem. And he is very optimistic about our ability to fix it! The answer came to me: “Listen to the scientist who knows his facts and speaks with passion! Allow yourself to be optimistic! And keep on taking the actions he recommends!”

This morning I did a bit of relaxing work with scissors in my garden. I’m cutting back some nonnatives I planted when I first moved into this house. I’m making room for natives I’ve planted more recently (as I’ve continued to expand my native-plant knowledge), that have started to really take off and get big. Halleluiah!

I also signed up for a webinar that appeared in my Facebook feed this morning. “Communicating Insect-Friendly Landscape Value To Your Clients.” Organized by Florida Association of Native Nurseries; happening October 23 from 3:30-4:30pm EST. “Insects matter. Learn to educate your clients and others about the value of protecting insects through ecological landscaping practices. For landscape architects, landscape designers/installers, maintenance companies and estate horticulturists.” (I’d suggest it for educators, activists, and government officials also!)

Ramble: Road-Widening Rant & More

Yesterday I Facebook Live’d a 30-minute walk through my neighborhood and down the nearest major arterial to the beach. You can watch/listen here if you like. I was honored to find that more people tuned in than I expected.

Nutshell: Florida Department of Transportation plans to widen East International Speedway Boulevard, and to add either a roundabout or a “signalized intersection” depending on public feedback. Thus far the public debate has focused almost entirely on the “Roundabout vs. Signal” aspect, and hardly at all on the fact that an already wide, high-speed road is being widened more, basically eliminating any hopes that some of the blighted properties along the road will be reborn as businesses. I also muse about vacant houses; homelessness; the idea that our landscaping practices are violent; and how fortunate I feel regardless to get to live at the beach.

You might have similar things happening on your city/town/region’s physical and social landscape.

Although my ideal would be to have the road stay the same width and become lined with grocery store, laundromat, and other essential services that would help create a more walkable neighborhood, that doesn’t seem to be in the cards here. I was feeling really down about it, but I reached out to the kind of people I reach out to when I need a boost (see next post), and I was able to loosen up, not feel so rigidly attached to my version of how things “should” be.

Trying to adopt a positive mind-set, I have the thought that perhaps, in our hurricane-prone region, we might be better off not building new buildings. FDOT also plans to widen the sidewalk for pedestrians and cyclists. It’s already wide enough — and with hardly any businesses, what the heck are people going to want to walk or cycle to?!

My “make the best of things” side says, “Well, maybe with the right plantings it could become some kind of linear nature park. And if the sidewalk’s really wide, we could fit espresso carts and other mobile nano-enterprises on there. Goods and services available on a moment’s notice, and easily evac’d if need be.”

In my experience, one of the most lifesaving peace-of-mind skills is being able to adopt a fresh viewpoint when things don’t go as I would want them to. At the same time, I am learning to contribute my original ideas while a debate is going on, rather than hanging back and giving up on communicating. It’s kind of a balancing act. Having a preference, yet being able to let go.

Regarding roads … Recently I read a super article from StrongTowns. They talk about roads vs. streets. Roads are meant to move people from point A to point B (mainly in cars); streets are meant to build wealth for cities, and be desirable places for people to spend time. (And a “stroad,” which I have read about elsewhere from StrongTowns people and other transportation experts, is a half-assed hybrid that ends up fulfilling neither a road’s nor a street’s purpose.)

Further Reading:

“Slow the Cars” (Charles Marohn, StrongTowns). “With a street, we’re trying to build a place. With a road, we’re trying to get from one place to another. Streets emphasize wealth creation. Roads are about movement.”

My Environmental Roots

You might say I’m a born environmentalist. Growing up in a Navy family, we moved every couple of years, and our moves were always from one coast to the other (coasts being where Navy bases tend to be found). Mom & Dad turned our cross-country moves by car into extended field trips; we’d camp at national parks, national monuments, state parks. We were taught to respect wildlife and nature but never fear it. By learning and adhering to basic rules of safe and respectful conduct (same as you would if you were visiting someone else’s country, city, or neighborhood), we were freed up to enjoy being out in nature.

From the deserts to the Grand Canyon to the Appalachians to the beaches of both coasts, I have seen so much raw unfiltered beauty from an early age that I don’t enjoy being in artificially lit, climate-controlled indoor spaces, and I find it excruciatingly painful to witness our daily casual violence against nature, such as our psychotic landscaping practices or our obscene explosion of single-use plastic junk.

I don’t protect the environment out of a sense of duty; I protect it out of love. That makes it easier for me to practice self-restraint (limit consumption of resources): The fact that I’m helping to protect something I love.

What about you — What got you into caring about the environment? And does your concern stem from early childhood experiences, or from something more recent?

Pragmatism & Civility

Last night’s U.S. Presidential candidate debate set a new record low for dignity and basic decency. I have always believed it’s possible to voice strong disagreement without calling names, being dismissive, launching personal attacks.

Personally, I am not thrilled with either candidate. And I so wish we had someone that more of the people I know could be thrilled with. But I’m voting for the one who I feel offers the best hope for our Earth and ecosystems. If we destroy our home planet, we won’t HAVE an economy. And, I’m voting for the one who at least acknowledges that systemic racism exists and needs to be corrected.

Regarding civility, someone on Facebook shared this TED Talk by Teresa Bejan, “Is Civility a Sham?” I really like this talk. If we define civility as never speaking our mind, and only surrounding ourselves with likeminded people, we’re doing civility wrong.

Managing Our Stuff

Over the years, I have noticed that I seem to use two rules to help me manage my physical possessions. By “manage” I mean 1) keep track of; and 2) utilize in a timely fashion so they wear out or get used up rather than rot/spoil, get lost, etc.

Confession: I am easily overwhelmed by physical stuff. I can be a bit absent-minded and misplace things, or forget I even have them.

The two rules that seem to help me manage my stuff are 1) Don’t have too much stuff; and 2) Conduct visual inventories of my stuff on an ongoing basis.

Of course, the definition of “too much stuff” varies from one person to the next. One person’s “excessive” is another person’s “not-enough,” is yet another person’s “just right.”

The definition varies by category too. I can manage fairly extensive collections of art and craft supplies without getting overwhelmed. But do not give me ONE SINGLE electrical cord, or electric/electronic device, beyond the few devices I use on a daily basis. Cords in particular make me crazy. Today at a housecleaning job, I encountered the “basket of snakes” that is common in so many North American households, even households of modest means. Seeing that basket of tangled cords, and all of them plugged into a power-strip, and almost impossible to even lift the basket to dust the TV cabinet, and impossible to find a way to plug anything else (like, say, a vacuum cleaner) into the power strip because all the plugs are occupied and all the cords are braided together into incestuous immobility, reminded me of one reason why I don’t want a TV and all its associated paraphernalia. In that moment, I realized that I would even rather do without electricity entirely than have a vicious cord-snarl in my home!

To each his or her own. The point is to decide what and how much stuff you can manage, and try not to burden yourself with anything beyond that.

Now, since I tend to be a bit forgetful and absent-minded, I will STILL forget about stuff even if I have only very little stuff to keep track of. This is where conducting visual inventory comes in. I literally have to remind myself of what stuff I have. It’s just a quick visual task, and can be done one room or even just one drawer at a time, when I have a spare moment. The other day I overviewed my spare box of needles and thread. Not spool by spool or anything like that. More like just reminding myself of the box’s contents: pins, needles, scissors, thread, tape measure.

I’ll do a drawer or cabinet the same way. “Cool, got plenty of jars with lids here; no need to collect any more.” Or, “Oh yeah, I already have a backup bottle of dish liquid.” Or, “Oops, running low on dental floss!” Or, “These little bottles of acrylic paint are in danger of drying up before I use them up — time to plan an art project before that happens!” (And in the meantime add a drop or two of water to each bottle to keep them from drying out.)

I find that I need both of my “rules” working together. If I neglect the ongoing “visual survey,” I find I quickly lose track of my stuff. And this would probably be true even if I had much less stuff than I do now.

And conversely, I have to keep a strict limit on the amount of stuff I let into my life. If I had any more stuff than I have at the moment, the volume would be too unwieldy for me to be able to perform that ongoing “visual survey” that helps me keep a handle on things.

Do you ever feel bogged down in stuff? Do you have techniques and strategies that help you manage your stuff?

Nothing keeps forever. I feel like, if I were an object such as a tube of paint, a tool, or an article of clothing, I would rather meet my end by being used up/worn out than by rotting, spoiling, rusting, or being lost and forgotten!

Further Exploration:

• On mental hoarding: For me (and maybe for some of you), a mind full of ideas, hoarded rather than shared, feels like that dreadful power-strip of tangled cords. Or a drain clogged with solidified grease. Or one of those giant handbags from the 1980s, stuffed with crumpled receipts. Regarding mental hoarding, I read some great advice today. This is from the email newsletter of Jeff Goins, writer: “Annie Dillard has this quote about writing, that we should write it all—’spend it all’—every time, no matter what, holding nothing back. Because if you don’t do that, if you hoard your work for later, she says you will return to the safe where you kept it and all you will find is ash. It’s a startling reminder that life is short and we should always show up to do our best work every day.” This hits uncomfortably close to home for me. I feel called to share from the deepest depths of my brain and soul, but all too often still I feel myself holding back, holding something in reserve. (But, stand by, because I do have some fresh tricks up my sleeve to help those thoughts attain escape velocity from my head and get out into the world to do some good, before they are lost or forgotten!) By the way, this issue of Jeff’s newsletter is titled, “Why you should teach everything you know.”

Development Built Around a Simulated Surfing Park

This morning in my hometown paper (Daytona Beach News-Journal), I read an interesting story about a simulated surfing park that’s being built in south Florida, as part of a residential and commercial development.

Reports the News-Journal: “The nation’s largest “WaveGarden,” a simulated surfing park, is slated to come to Midway Road as a part of a 200-acre community development.

“It is to feature 800 residential homes, 600 hotel rooms, 400,000 square-feet of retail space, 125,000 of office space and thousands of potential jobs.”

I’m of two minds about this. On the one hand, I appreciate developments that integrate residential and commercial; if done well, it reduces car-dependency. I also like that the recreational centerpiece is something besides yet another golf course.

On the other hand, Fort Pierce is located smack dab on the Atlantic Ocean! And Fort Pierce Inlet State Park is supposedly a surfer’s paradise.

Questions to ponder: How do you think “nature theme parks” got popular? What do you think of “nature theme parks”? Do you think they have the potential to bridge the chasm that’s developed between modern humans and the rest of the natural world? Or do you think they only serve to widen that chasm?

I’ll be back later to share some of my own thoughts with you.

Later — More thoughts. Could it be that our act of disconnecting from nature (to escape from bugs, tigers, snakes, and other assorted danger) has made life too dull, and that’s why we build adventure games and theme parks? Could nature theme parks, designed and operated by eco-aware people, be used as a gateway or “on-ramp” that eases people back into living more fully integrated with real nature?

My preferred focus will always be more direct: How can I entice more people to simply experience and appreciate the natural world that’s all around us right here, right now? What we love, we nurture and protect.

The Beauty of Sunrise — And Beyond

From the time I was a little girl, I have always loved watching the skies. My favorite times are early morning, late afternoon into sunset, and night. The beauty is ever-changing, with so much depth and richness of cloud and color.

That’s been true everywhere I’ve lived. But when I moved to the Atlantic coast of Florida, my sky-viewing awe got cranked up several notches, as I found myself initiated into sky colors and textures of a whole new richness of golds, pinks, peaches, purples. Sometimes it feels like I need a whole extra set of eyes just to take it all in.

Naturally, heading to the beach to watch the sunrise is a popular activity. For visitors from places with lots of hills, trees, or buildings, it might be their first unobstructed view of the sun coming up over the flat horizon. But locals love walking to the beach to watch the sunrise too. It may be primally ingrained in us humans to eagerly await the sun’s first rays after the long night.

This morning I was out doing a small task in the yard, and basking in the brilliant morning color show. Layered clouds, backlit gold, heathery purple sky-shadows. 

A man and woman who I recognized from the neighborhood passed by, walking briskly toward the beach, coffee cups in hand. I called good morning to them. They asked if I had gotten to see the sunrise (the beach is about 5 minutes’ walk from my house). I was a little taken by surprise, as I always am when people ask that, because to me, we were in the sunrise! Right here right now. I mumbled something generic and waved at them. 

How easy it could be for me to miss the full glowing sky-show of daybreak, if I were just focused in on seeing that orange sunball come up over the horizon line. 

And it reminded me of how mainstream society focuses on a very narrow range of beauty in many ways. The garden plant is valued for its flower, but ripped out when it’s finished blooming, to be replaced with new different flowering plants. While the old flower’s seed-stalks that would produce an abundance of blooms next year, with no human intervention, gets discarded as “yard waste.”

We don’t see the beauty of the late summer-browned stalk and seed heads. Not because they aren’t beautiful. (If you’ve never taken a close look at wildflower stalks and seed heads, try it sometime! The geometry is stunning, and the strawlike color and texture remind me of autumn-gold fields.) We don’t see the beauty not because it isn’t there, but because our modern mainstream Western society is trained-in to see only a narrow slice of the full spectrum.

We can re-train ourselves, though. Open up our boxed-in minds.

Last year around this time, I often sat in my “outdoor living room” (car-free driveway with chairs) and savored the fall beauty of the wildflower stalks in the lowering angle of afternoon sunlight. And felt the first whiff of winter in the air (yes even here in Florida you can feel it if you tune in), and looked forward to what I think of as the “orange-and-brown” months: October and November.

Have you ever noticed some area of your life where you’ve gotten focused in on a very narrow range of beauty (or a very narrow definition of accomplishment)? I have, often! Fortunately it’s pretty easy to shift to a wider bandwidth of appreciation, just by slowing down and setting an intention to tune in to the natural world.

Further Exploration:

• Right after I made this post, I read my local paper. What a fun synchronicity to find that Mark Lane’s popular “Darwinian Gardener” column for that day mentioned the Beautyberry as a true sign of fall in Florida. This Florida native plant is just an unassuming shrub for 10 months out of the year. But in fall, it bursts into bright-pinky-purply berries. He mentioned that his neighbors give him a hard time for bothering to keep a plant that isn’t spectacular year-round. He explains: “The American beautyberry is admittedly a rough-looking bush in the winter and a so-so yard resident in the summer. But fall in Florida would totally sneak up on the Darwinian Gardener if the green berries of the beautyberry didn’t purple up at the height of hurricane season. They bring hope that someday the heat will abate. Just be patient. This might happen.”

• Another good read, which I just started, is Doug Tallamy’s book Nature’s Best Hope: A New Approach to Conservation that Starts in Your Yard. Tallamy, an entomologist and advocate of re-wilding residential yards, is someone I’ve often mentioned on this blog. He’s written many articles and given at least one TED Talk. This book is a lovely and encouraging read so far. He talks about our yards as “Homegrown National Park,” a place to savor the unique beauties of each season; a refuge for humans as well as wildlife.