My beloved mother, Jean Elizabeth (Reamer) Harbold, known to her friends as "Betty" and to her sons as our dear, wonderful, and much-loved Ma, passed out of this mortal life and into "a brighter light, upon a further shore" at about 8:15 p.m. this evening, Tuesday, February 27th, 2007.
Although she had been in considerable respiratory distress the last two days, and this afternoon and evening was particularly difficult, her final passing was a peaceful one, as the Lord she has loved and followed all her days sent His angels to safely escort her kind and gentle spirit home.
She never made it to hospice, but was given comfort care at Carroll Hospital Center, and she passed into the next world attended by all three of her sons -- my brothers and myself -- along with one of her daughters-in-law and her youngest niece. My brother John and sister-in-law Susan had prevailed upon me to take some time from Ma's side and come home to have dinner with them, which I did... difficult though it was to leave her. In the meantime, we later learned, my other brother Mark had been joined by his daughter Hannah, who read Ma some of her (Ma's) favorite poems from our "Big Blue Poetry Book," as we always called it -- thus undoubtedly easing her grandmother's final time on this earth.
When John, Susan, and I returned, it was to find Ma breathing far more slowly -- and, thankfully, entirely without distress. Her skin had lost its feverish flush, and was in fact already beginning to fade to pale. Realizing that the end was very near, we rallied around her, holding her hands and resting our hands upon her. I read the final commendatory prayers at the time of departure from the Book of Common Prayer. At some point during or shortly following those prayers, Ma breathed her last, slipping quietly away in utter peace, with prayers in her ears and poems in her heart.
She spoke no word, nor did she open her eyes -- but earlier today her eyes were wide open and tracking, drinking in everything she could of us... perhaps to strengthen herself for her final battle? She even fought her way through the fog of morphine to look deeply into my eyes, communicating her love without need for words. We, all of us, were given a final opportunity to say "goodbye." What a blessing. What a grace.
Those of you who know my mom, and the struggles, pains, and travails she's been through in the last year-and-a-half, especially, and really since the accident in 1999, will understand that while our loss of Ma is a loss that cannot be mended -- she was such a major presence in my life, especially, and the solid core and pillar of our family -- and I am suffering great grief and deep sadness, I am also experiencing feelings of relief and gratitude, that her long suffering is over.
There will be no more interminable visits to the doctors, no sudden hospitalizations, no poking and prodding and IV "sticks," no dressing changes or walkers or unappetizing nursing home food. She will not suffer pain in her back, her legs, or anywhere else; there will be no more pyoderma gangrenosum, no more osteoporosis, no more piles of pills to somehow swallow. Her lungs will never again fill with fluid, her legs swell, or her poor vertebrae compress. She will have no fear of atrial fibrillation or congestive heart failure. She will be in no danger of falling, and will suffer no difficulty swallowing. She need not fear the loss of her mental acuity or her dignity with the progression of dementia (which I think would have particularly appalled her). No nurses or techs will bother her at odd times of the night to check her vitals, and she won't have to wait for somebody to help her when she needs it.
She is free, and at peace. The "long goodbye" is over.
Now it just remains for me to learn how to live without her... and that won't be easy.
I have been Ma's caregiver for so long that I have nearly forgotten how NOT to be her caregiver. I will undoubtedly have more time to myself in the days ahead, and the nights too. I will undoubtedly have more freedom of action, of travel. But I would gladly trade it all for the sight of Ma's smile, or the twinkle in her eyes, or a hug, or the chance to read poetry to her again (or, going further back, one of her home-cooked meals, or a fresh-baked cake with homemade icing). As I used often to put it, modifying the familiar saying, "She's not heavy, she's my mother." I threw myself body and soul into caring for Ma, and it will take some time to learn to drag myself back out.
Please pray for me, friends. And for all the family, as I am not the only one who will be suffering grief and sadness at her loss. But please also rejoice with me that Ma's pain and suffering is at an end, and she is at peace.
And if you possibly can, please do love your parents, and show them that you care. They gave you life -- and if they're even halfway decent, very much more, often at great sacrifice to themselves. You never know when they'll be taken from you. Give 'em a hug, for me.
Tom
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Living life in the "ready room"
On U.S. aircraft carriers during World War Two, fighter pilots who were on duty but not actually in the air waited in “ready rooms” until the time they were called to launch themselves into action. By all reports, the atmosphere in these rooms was a mixture of boredom, tension, nervous anticipation, memories of past actions, and fears and concerns about future ones. The pilots typically put on a brave, even blasé, front, but undoubtedly fooled no one, not even themselves.
As my mother's health problems have advanced over the last year-and-a-half or more, both the number and variety of her ailments and the number and variety of her hospitalizations increasing all the time, I have been experiencing my own version of what I've come to recognize as “ready room syndrome.” Nervousness, tension, fearful anticipation of the next incident, and a mix of unpleasant memories and worries about the future have become a part of my day-to-day life.
I am not complaining when I say this, I am merely noting the fact. My mother has always been my best friend and confidant. After the loss of my father back in 1999 in an accident that left her injured, and perhaps jump-started the series of health problems that led to her current situation, I have felt ever more responsible for her, and protective of her.
My brothers, both of whom live reasonably close, and their families have helped, of course, and I am deeply grateful for their efforts. Without them, the situation as a whole, and my stress level, would be vastly worse than it is now. However, they have families of their own, and so their efforts, energies, and attentions have necessarily and rightly been divided.
Since I am currently single, and have furthermore been living in the home I've shared with my mother (and my father, while he was still alive) since 1989, Ma has been the major focus of my life since her health started to decline. Again, this is not a complaint, merely a statement of fact: I love my mother, I am deeply grateful for all she has done for me throughout my life, and I consider it a privilege to return some of the love and care she lavished on me when I was growing up. To slightly modify the familiar saying, “she's not heavy, she's my mother.”
Nonetheless, I cannot deny that it has been a strain at times, especially recently, as her overall health has declined still further. I have spent ever more time, it seems, in the ready room, less time below-decks in the crew quarters or wardroom.
Recently it has come to me that I need to be much more intentional about practicing what is known as “self-care.” This is not selfishness, it is an awareness that if I am constantly stressed out -- and thus run down -- not only can I not function as well in other necessary areas of life, of which there are many, but I am also not in condition to provide the best possible support to Ma when she does need me.
Unfortunately this is easier said than done. It is hard to get out of that ready room mentality, to force oneself to relax -- a seeming contradiction. It is essential, though. And so I am trying hard to practice better self-care: to eat fewer meals out, get less carry-out, and cook more at home; to get in bed earlier, rather than stay awake until exhaustion overtakes nervous tension and forces me to bed, and even to find or make time for an occasional nap; to practice spiritual disciplines that are relaxing and centering; to take time to spend time with friends.
Has it helped? A little. You can't undo patterns of 18 months duration or more in a few days or even a few weeks of trying. But I'm making progress. That's the important thing. And so I want to encourage other caregivers who may be in similar situations to do the same: it's easy, I've found, all too easy to let the cares and strains of caregiving interfere with other aspects of life.
It's important to eat right, sleep enough, exercise and/or spend time outside in nature, where the largeness of the natural world helps put our human issues in perspective, pray or meditate, and as the saying goes, “let go and let God.” It's not easy, but it's essential. You can't spend your whole life in the ready room.
As my mother's health problems have advanced over the last year-and-a-half or more, both the number and variety of her ailments and the number and variety of her hospitalizations increasing all the time, I have been experiencing my own version of what I've come to recognize as “ready room syndrome.” Nervousness, tension, fearful anticipation of the next incident, and a mix of unpleasant memories and worries about the future have become a part of my day-to-day life.
I am not complaining when I say this, I am merely noting the fact. My mother has always been my best friend and confidant. After the loss of my father back in 1999 in an accident that left her injured, and perhaps jump-started the series of health problems that led to her current situation, I have felt ever more responsible for her, and protective of her.
My brothers, both of whom live reasonably close, and their families have helped, of course, and I am deeply grateful for their efforts. Without them, the situation as a whole, and my stress level, would be vastly worse than it is now. However, they have families of their own, and so their efforts, energies, and attentions have necessarily and rightly been divided.
Since I am currently single, and have furthermore been living in the home I've shared with my mother (and my father, while he was still alive) since 1989, Ma has been the major focus of my life since her health started to decline. Again, this is not a complaint, merely a statement of fact: I love my mother, I am deeply grateful for all she has done for me throughout my life, and I consider it a privilege to return some of the love and care she lavished on me when I was growing up. To slightly modify the familiar saying, “she's not heavy, she's my mother.”
Nonetheless, I cannot deny that it has been a strain at times, especially recently, as her overall health has declined still further. I have spent ever more time, it seems, in the ready room, less time below-decks in the crew quarters or wardroom.
Recently it has come to me that I need to be much more intentional about practicing what is known as “self-care.” This is not selfishness, it is an awareness that if I am constantly stressed out -- and thus run down -- not only can I not function as well in other necessary areas of life, of which there are many, but I am also not in condition to provide the best possible support to Ma when she does need me.
Unfortunately this is easier said than done. It is hard to get out of that ready room mentality, to force oneself to relax -- a seeming contradiction. It is essential, though. And so I am trying hard to practice better self-care: to eat fewer meals out, get less carry-out, and cook more at home; to get in bed earlier, rather than stay awake until exhaustion overtakes nervous tension and forces me to bed, and even to find or make time for an occasional nap; to practice spiritual disciplines that are relaxing and centering; to take time to spend time with friends.
Has it helped? A little. You can't undo patterns of 18 months duration or more in a few days or even a few weeks of trying. But I'm making progress. That's the important thing. And so I want to encourage other caregivers who may be in similar situations to do the same: it's easy, I've found, all too easy to let the cares and strains of caregiving interfere with other aspects of life.
It's important to eat right, sleep enough, exercise and/or spend time outside in nature, where the largeness of the natural world helps put our human issues in perspective, pray or meditate, and as the saying goes, “let go and let God.” It's not easy, but it's essential. You can't spend your whole life in the ready room.
Monday, February 26, 2007
No easy way to say this... my mother is dying.
My mother -- my beloved Ma -- is dying.
I have just returned home, briefly, from what was supposed to be an hour or two's worth of visit to her at the hospital... starting at eleven o'clock this morning. I arrived to learn that she had been taken to the CCU. There I learned that her condition was -- and remains -- very grave.
As I had feared last night, her lungs were filling up with fluid: some internally, and some aspirated when she tried to drink (and, apparently, eat some applesauce). Enough Lasix to help clear out the fluid would damage her kidneys... and it wouldn't clear it all out, in any case. Her breathing was extremely fast and shallow, her heart rate through the roof, her blood pressure spiking. Even receiving oxygen under pressure, her "pulse ox" (dissolved oxygen in her blood) was dangerously low.
Thankfully, she was then aware and responsive enough to make known her desire not to be intubated (respirator w/breathing tube, eating tube, etc.), or to have heroic measures taken to artificially prolong her life. For me as her son, it is hard... but I respect her decision. She is now in a peaceful room (still in the hospital -- we never did get a chance to avail ourselves of hospice), with all her monitors off, with just a regular oxygen mask (with which her O2% had actually come up, after the pressure mask was off), fluid, and such medicines as needed to ease her pains and keep her comfortable.
My brothers and (at different times) both sisters-in-law were able to come and spend time with her, and she/we have had a lot of support from both friends and clergy. I am now taking a brief respite break at home before returning to spend the night with her (my brothers and/or sister-in-law are with her now). There has been reading of poetry, singing of hymns, some laughter, and many prayers. She is very minimally responsive, at best, and it is difficult to gauge her perception, but she appears to be comfortable, or reasonably so under the circumstances.
We were actually expecting her to pass earlier in the day, but she is showing her typical indominable will right up to the end. Notwithstanding, short of a flat-out miracle, it appears that this is the end of her 79 years' journey in this world. And she is entitled to rest. She has fought the good fight against long odds ever since the accident in 1990 that took my father and seriously injured her, and the last year-and-a-half has been especially difficult. The last six months or so in particular. I would have liked to have had her for more years -- ideally, many more years -- but that is not in our purview as mortals to determine. She is in God's hands now, where she really has been all along.
Of your mercy, friends and strangers, please pray for a good and peaceful passing, and strength for our family as we try to adjust to life without her. Myself especially -- I have cared for her for many years, now, and will miss her incredibly. More than I can say.
Tom
I have just returned home, briefly, from what was supposed to be an hour or two's worth of visit to her at the hospital... starting at eleven o'clock this morning. I arrived to learn that she had been taken to the CCU. There I learned that her condition was -- and remains -- very grave.
As I had feared last night, her lungs were filling up with fluid: some internally, and some aspirated when she tried to drink (and, apparently, eat some applesauce). Enough Lasix to help clear out the fluid would damage her kidneys... and it wouldn't clear it all out, in any case. Her breathing was extremely fast and shallow, her heart rate through the roof, her blood pressure spiking. Even receiving oxygen under pressure, her "pulse ox" (dissolved oxygen in her blood) was dangerously low.
Thankfully, she was then aware and responsive enough to make known her desire not to be intubated (respirator w/breathing tube, eating tube, etc.), or to have heroic measures taken to artificially prolong her life. For me as her son, it is hard... but I respect her decision. She is now in a peaceful room (still in the hospital -- we never did get a chance to avail ourselves of hospice), with all her monitors off, with just a regular oxygen mask (with which her O2% had actually come up, after the pressure mask was off), fluid, and such medicines as needed to ease her pains and keep her comfortable.
My brothers and (at different times) both sisters-in-law were able to come and spend time with her, and she/we have had a lot of support from both friends and clergy. I am now taking a brief respite break at home before returning to spend the night with her (my brothers and/or sister-in-law are with her now). There has been reading of poetry, singing of hymns, some laughter, and many prayers. She is very minimally responsive, at best, and it is difficult to gauge her perception, but she appears to be comfortable, or reasonably so under the circumstances.
We were actually expecting her to pass earlier in the day, but she is showing her typical indominable will right up to the end. Notwithstanding, short of a flat-out miracle, it appears that this is the end of her 79 years' journey in this world. And she is entitled to rest. She has fought the good fight against long odds ever since the accident in 1990 that took my father and seriously injured her, and the last year-and-a-half has been especially difficult. The last six months or so in particular. I would have liked to have had her for more years -- ideally, many more years -- but that is not in our purview as mortals to determine. She is in God's hands now, where she really has been all along.
Of your mercy, friends and strangers, please pray for a good and peaceful passing, and strength for our family as we try to adjust to life without her. Myself especially -- I have cared for her for many years, now, and will miss her incredibly. More than I can say.
Tom
For what do I long?
I am currently reading a book entitled The Mist-Filled Path: Celtic Wisdom for Exiles, Wanderers, and Seekers. Despite my Germanic surname, I have a considerable amount of Celtic blood -- Scots, primarily, and some Irish -- on both sides of my family, and have long had a strong interest in and love for Celtic history and heritage, culture and spirituality.
The chapter I'm reading at the moment deals with the issue of longing, so classic and vital a part of the Celtic character and worldview. So I am led to reflect on what I long for. This is not an exhaustive list, by any means, but it is a snapshot of where I stand at the moment.
I long for the days of my childhood, when my mother was in good health and strength, and all those I loved were still alive.
I also long for the sense of connection I had then, to the world and all that was in it, especially the world of nature, which felt like an extension of myself... or vice versa, my self an extension of the natural world.
I long to live in and with nature, not apart from her... as a fellow-creature and a participant, not an outside observer, however sypathetic.
I long for a closer sense of communion with God (the Divine, the Great Spirit, the Eternal, the Mysterium tremendum et fascinans, and many other names we humans have used, in an attempt to express the inexpressible), at a time when I feel... not "cut off," precisely, but distant, the connection tenuous at best.
I long for a world in which the world of humankind and the world of nature are not separated and at odds, but integrated, to the point of oneness.
Beyond even that, I long for a world in which there is true communion, true interrelation, beween God, nature, and humanity.
I long for the opportunity and ability to do more to help bring that world into being.
On a more pragmatic note, I long for a time of greater security, personally, in which I did not feel so much as if everything in my life, from the life of my mother to my source of income to the place where I live to... well, everything... was rocky and insecure, under constant threat of sudden and cataclysmic change.
I long for more success with my writing, so that something which is so central to my sense of vocation may not be so peripheral to my occupation -- that, combining the two, my writing can become my "occupassion," to quote Joel Salatin.
And I long, deeply, for someone to share my life, to be the recipient of the immense amount of love and caring I have to give, and also to help me shoulder my burdens, bear my pain -- as I, in turn, would help her shoulder her burdens and bear her pains.
I suppose where all those come together is in a longing, a yearning, for the opportunity to use my gifts of writing, of expression, to help re-weave the rifts that our techno-industrial civilization have torn in the web which joins God, nature, and humankind... and to have someone by my side to share that dream, and that vocation.
The trick, at present, is turning longing into action. And that is not so simple as it may sound, staring at the words on the screen of my laptop............
The chapter I'm reading at the moment deals with the issue of longing, so classic and vital a part of the Celtic character and worldview. So I am led to reflect on what I long for. This is not an exhaustive list, by any means, but it is a snapshot of where I stand at the moment.
I long for the days of my childhood, when my mother was in good health and strength, and all those I loved were still alive.
I also long for the sense of connection I had then, to the world and all that was in it, especially the world of nature, which felt like an extension of myself... or vice versa, my self an extension of the natural world.
I long to live in and with nature, not apart from her... as a fellow-creature and a participant, not an outside observer, however sypathetic.
I long for a closer sense of communion with God (the Divine, the Great Spirit, the Eternal, the Mysterium tremendum et fascinans, and many other names we humans have used, in an attempt to express the inexpressible), at a time when I feel... not "cut off," precisely, but distant, the connection tenuous at best.
I long for a world in which the world of humankind and the world of nature are not separated and at odds, but integrated, to the point of oneness.
Beyond even that, I long for a world in which there is true communion, true interrelation, beween God, nature, and humanity.
I long for the opportunity and ability to do more to help bring that world into being.
On a more pragmatic note, I long for a time of greater security, personally, in which I did not feel so much as if everything in my life, from the life of my mother to my source of income to the place where I live to... well, everything... was rocky and insecure, under constant threat of sudden and cataclysmic change.
I long for more success with my writing, so that something which is so central to my sense of vocation may not be so peripheral to my occupation -- that, combining the two, my writing can become my "occupassion," to quote Joel Salatin.
And I long, deeply, for someone to share my life, to be the recipient of the immense amount of love and caring I have to give, and also to help me shoulder my burdens, bear my pain -- as I, in turn, would help her shoulder her burdens and bear her pains.
I suppose where all those come together is in a longing, a yearning, for the opportunity to use my gifts of writing, of expression, to help re-weave the rifts that our techno-industrial civilization have torn in the web which joins God, nature, and humankind... and to have someone by my side to share that dream, and that vocation.
The trick, at present, is turning longing into action. And that is not so simple as it may sound, staring at the words on the screen of my laptop............
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Personal update 2/24/07
It's hard to really know whether anyone is reading this thing or not, as I am only notified if one of my posts gets a comment... But in case anyone is, I apologize for not posting much this week. My mother, who has been having health problems for the last year-and-a-half or more, and has been in a nursing facility since shortly before Thanksgiving, has been back in the hospital. Among other things, we've learned that in addition to her physical problems, she is now suffering from some form of dementia/Alzheimers. Relatively mild, so far, but very sad news, nonetheless.
She has long been the strong tower of support for and living core of our family, a true "matriarch" in a good and positive sense. I cannot possibly enumerate all the things she means to me, or all the good things she's done for me over the years of growing up, and even into adulthood. She has been my best friend and confidant, throughout my entire life (with a few blips in late adolescence and early 20s, when most of us tend to distance ourselves from our parents). To see her so ravaged and diminished by disease, both of body and now of mind as well, and at her age -- 79 is not a "spring chicken," of course, but nowadays it's not so old, either -- has been heart-breaking.
Needless to say, her situation has been taking up the lion's share of my time and mental, emotional, and spiritual energy. Hopefully next week, if or as things settle out a bit, I'll be able (and inspired) to post more. And if you are of a religious persuasion, or even if you are not, please join me in praying that what is best for "Ma's" overall wellbeing is what works out.
Thanks for your understanding.
She has long been the strong tower of support for and living core of our family, a true "matriarch" in a good and positive sense. I cannot possibly enumerate all the things she means to me, or all the good things she's done for me over the years of growing up, and even into adulthood. She has been my best friend and confidant, throughout my entire life (with a few blips in late adolescence and early 20s, when most of us tend to distance ourselves from our parents). To see her so ravaged and diminished by disease, both of body and now of mind as well, and at her age -- 79 is not a "spring chicken," of course, but nowadays it's not so old, either -- has been heart-breaking.
Needless to say, her situation has been taking up the lion's share of my time and mental, emotional, and spiritual energy. Hopefully next week, if or as things settle out a bit, I'll be able (and inspired) to post more. And if you are of a religious persuasion, or even if you are not, please join me in praying that what is best for "Ma's" overall wellbeing is what works out.
Thanks for your understanding.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Giving up consumerism for lent (Column)
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the Christian penitential season of Lent, as observed by Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and even many Protestants, although our Eastern Orthodox brothers and sisters began their Lent yesterday. For Western Christians, today is Shrove Tuesday, the past tense of a somewhat archaic English word ("shrive," past perfect "shriven") meaning to have confessed and been forgiven one's sins.
The forty days of Lent are traditionally a time of fasting -- abstaining from food, especially rich foods -- in penitence for one's past sins, for the grace to amend one's life, and in memory of the forty days Christ fasted in the wilderness. Therefore today is also sometimes called "Pancake Day" or "Doughnut Day," for the same reason that the French (including the Cajun French of Louisiana) call it Mardi Gras, literally "Fat Tuesday": making doughnuts or pancakes is a good way to use up all the fats and oils in the house, before the Lenten fast begins.
If you see a friend or neighbor with what looks like a smudge of dirt on their forehead tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, it is the mark of ashes, imposed by a priest or pastor in order that the recipient may "remember that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." It is a sober, and indeed salutary, reminder of our own mortality, and the fact that we don't have an unlimited amount of time to get our lives in order.
Traditionally, Lent has been largely about individual sins, whether of commission or of omission: "We have left undone those things that we ought to have done; and we have done those things that we ought not to have done, and there is no health in us," in the words of the traditional Anglican prayer of confession. But individual sins often manifest in ways that affect other people, or even the larger world, and it's to some of those that I'd like to direct our attention as we -- whether Christian or otherwise -- move into the season of Lent, the season of repentance.
To repent of something one has done is not just a matter of feeling sorry about it. It means to literally turn back or turn around, and proceed in a more positive direction. So you may consider this, if you like, a call to both individual and collective repentance.
I would like to call us, first of all, to repent of our pattern of consumerism, of conspicuous consumption, which the Christian tradition has historically named as "greed." Despite notable exceptions, many of us have internalized, to one degree or another, the absurd notion that "whoever dies with the most toys wins," a recipe for social inequity and environmental catastrophe. Consumerism is a good word for this, as we are consuming the world's resources -- many of them, like fossil fuels, irreplaceable in any kind of human timescale -- at a frightening rate.
Closely allied to this, and equally needful of repentance, is the arrogance of power which allows us to carelessly or callously exploit both other people and natural resources in our "climb to the top," whatever we consider the "top" to be. Striving is not a bad thing, nor is achievement. But they become damaging and hurtful when we pursue them to the extent that we forget to love our neighbors as ourselves, or to practice responsible stewardship of this Earth, our home.
Finally, I want to call us to repent of over-emphasizing those elements in our spiritual traditions which direct our attention primarily, even solely, to the next world, to the exclusion and even detriment of this one.
Expectation of a continued spiritual existence in a world to come, a belief common to most religions, can empower us to live more fully and hopefully in this one. But an excessive emphasis on our heavenly home which allows us to devalue, degrade, and damage our present, earthly one is, I believe, wrong-headed, dangerous, and even sinful. Just as Jesus said you cannot love God and hate your neighbor, so you cannot rightfully claim to love the Creator while doing violence to the creation.
And so, on this Shrove Tuesday, as you eat your pancakes or doughnuts and ponder how to observe the Lenten fast, I hope that you'll consider emphasizing simplicity over consumerism, humility over prideful ambition, and care for the good earth God has given us over an obsessive concern for the world to come. These thoughts in mind, I wish you a holy Lent.
The forty days of Lent are traditionally a time of fasting -- abstaining from food, especially rich foods -- in penitence for one's past sins, for the grace to amend one's life, and in memory of the forty days Christ fasted in the wilderness. Therefore today is also sometimes called "Pancake Day" or "Doughnut Day," for the same reason that the French (including the Cajun French of Louisiana) call it Mardi Gras, literally "Fat Tuesday": making doughnuts or pancakes is a good way to use up all the fats and oils in the house, before the Lenten fast begins.
If you see a friend or neighbor with what looks like a smudge of dirt on their forehead tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, it is the mark of ashes, imposed by a priest or pastor in order that the recipient may "remember that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." It is a sober, and indeed salutary, reminder of our own mortality, and the fact that we don't have an unlimited amount of time to get our lives in order.
Traditionally, Lent has been largely about individual sins, whether of commission or of omission: "We have left undone those things that we ought to have done; and we have done those things that we ought not to have done, and there is no health in us," in the words of the traditional Anglican prayer of confession. But individual sins often manifest in ways that affect other people, or even the larger world, and it's to some of those that I'd like to direct our attention as we -- whether Christian or otherwise -- move into the season of Lent, the season of repentance.
To repent of something one has done is not just a matter of feeling sorry about it. It means to literally turn back or turn around, and proceed in a more positive direction. So you may consider this, if you like, a call to both individual and collective repentance.
I would like to call us, first of all, to repent of our pattern of consumerism, of conspicuous consumption, which the Christian tradition has historically named as "greed." Despite notable exceptions, many of us have internalized, to one degree or another, the absurd notion that "whoever dies with the most toys wins," a recipe for social inequity and environmental catastrophe. Consumerism is a good word for this, as we are consuming the world's resources -- many of them, like fossil fuels, irreplaceable in any kind of human timescale -- at a frightening rate.
Closely allied to this, and equally needful of repentance, is the arrogance of power which allows us to carelessly or callously exploit both other people and natural resources in our "climb to the top," whatever we consider the "top" to be. Striving is not a bad thing, nor is achievement. But they become damaging and hurtful when we pursue them to the extent that we forget to love our neighbors as ourselves, or to practice responsible stewardship of this Earth, our home.
Finally, I want to call us to repent of over-emphasizing those elements in our spiritual traditions which direct our attention primarily, even solely, to the next world, to the exclusion and even detriment of this one.
Expectation of a continued spiritual existence in a world to come, a belief common to most religions, can empower us to live more fully and hopefully in this one. But an excessive emphasis on our heavenly home which allows us to devalue, degrade, and damage our present, earthly one is, I believe, wrong-headed, dangerous, and even sinful. Just as Jesus said you cannot love God and hate your neighbor, so you cannot rightfully claim to love the Creator while doing violence to the creation.
And so, on this Shrove Tuesday, as you eat your pancakes or doughnuts and ponder how to observe the Lenten fast, I hope that you'll consider emphasizing simplicity over consumerism, humility over prideful ambition, and care for the good earth God has given us over an obsessive concern for the world to come. These thoughts in mind, I wish you a holy Lent.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
I am now a Subdeacon in the ACA
This morning, at the 9:15 service at St. Stephens Traditional Episcopal Church, I was (along with the other postulants in the parish) "set apart" for the "office and work of Subdeacon," by the Ven. Guy P. Hawtin, Rector of St. Stephens and Archdeacon of the Diocese of the Eastern United States, Anglican Church in America. Our sponsor was the Rev. James Johnson, Associate Rector of St. Stephens.
Lest any wonder just what the "office and work of Subdeacon" might be, here is the requisite part of the "Order for the Setting-Apart of Subdeacons":
I had expected to ask myself if I felt any different following this service of installation, and had expected to answer myself, "no, not really." Oddly, though, that's not the answer I get. Although this was not a service of ordination -- that is reserved, in our tradition, for the "major orders," and this is a "minor order" -- hands were indeed laid on my head, and it seems that some spiritual graces were indeed conferred. Or perhaps it is just that the solemnity of the occasion has served to underline the solemnity of the office in my mind.
In either case, I do feel a strong sense of reaffirmation and, perhaps, destiny toward my vocation to the priesthood... which is good, as I have to confess that it was becoming a bit shaky. Many factors and experiences in my personal life have battered against my sense of call and, indeed, my faith in recent months. It may be that I needed this. At any rate, I am grateful that it occured.
Brothers and sisters, please pray for me, a sinner, as I embark on this next phase of my journey.
Lest any wonder just what the "office and work of Subdeacon" might be, here is the requisite part of the "Order for the Setting-Apart of Subdeacons":
Priest: Declare, we pray thee, unto those who are gathered, what the office and work of a Subdeacon are.In effect, I have been restored to all of the duties and offices I held at Ascension, save for preaching -- and we are to offer a couple of meditations during Lent, so there will even be a little bit of that. I was functioning effectively as a Subdeacon-plus at Ascension, though without the title. Now I have the title to go with the "office and work." And I am another step on the way toward eventual ordination.
Then shall the Sponsor answer,
The duties of a Subdeacon are to read the Epistles, to assist at the Holy Table, and to administer the Chalice during the Eucharist; to read the Daily Offices and to study Holy Scripture; and to present an example of Christian humility and service in their daily lives.
I had expected to ask myself if I felt any different following this service of installation, and had expected to answer myself, "no, not really." Oddly, though, that's not the answer I get. Although this was not a service of ordination -- that is reserved, in our tradition, for the "major orders," and this is a "minor order" -- hands were indeed laid on my head, and it seems that some spiritual graces were indeed conferred. Or perhaps it is just that the solemnity of the occasion has served to underline the solemnity of the office in my mind.
In either case, I do feel a strong sense of reaffirmation and, perhaps, destiny toward my vocation to the priesthood... which is good, as I have to confess that it was becoming a bit shaky. Many factors and experiences in my personal life have battered against my sense of call and, indeed, my faith in recent months. It may be that I needed this. At any rate, I am grateful that it occured.
Brothers and sisters, please pray for me, a sinner, as I embark on this next phase of my journey.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Heaven's not so bad, after all
I recently ran across this review of militant atheist and crypto-Buddhist Sam Harris' book, Letter to a Christian Nation. While the review, entitled "The Celestial Teapot," was quite interesting in many respects, it seemed to me that the reviewer, James Wood, was seriously astray on at least one point. This is my response to his review, left in the Comments section:
Dear Mr. Wood:
I read with considerable interest your objections to the "Free Will Defense" of Christianity, as this is precisely the approach I have used in coming to terms with the theodicy: if God intervened whenever there was a problem, we would lose both our free will and our ability to function for ourselves, our ability (however inadequate it can be, at times) to come up with solutions to our own problems. We would end up being either automatons or resentful servitors of God, depending on how much awareness was left to us.
God could easily have created automatons, but chose not to -- so the Christian tradition teaches -- because he wanted humans to come to love him freely, of their own choice, without necessary (intrinsic, "hard-wired") constraint. He may be willing to apply both carrots and sticks to convince us, but ultimately, the choice still is ours. I have been over the arguments and objections so many times on my own that nothing you have raised convinces me to rethink that notion.
But the idea that heaven itself is part of the problem was novel to me, and so I read that section with considerable interest and attention. With all due respect, however, I think you're rather missing the point.
True, heaven is a constraint on freedom, for those living there. And I confess, I have problems with the notion of spending an eternity chanting the praises of the Triune Godhead. That sounds more torturous than beatific, to me. But I think we need to be careful about being too literalistic in our assessments of heaven. Whatever our image of it, we are likely to be surprised, I suspect, if/when we get there.
More to the point is the issue of constraint versus freedom. It is true that, if the Christian conception of heaven is true -- even allegorically -- we will have less freedom than we do here, in that we will no longer have the freedom (some would say, the desire) to do things that are evil, sinful, etc. But since many of us spend our lives, in part, struggling against the urge to do things that we know are wrong, is not that also a type of freedom -- perhaps, a freedom of a higher order? That we are freed from the base impulses of our nature, in order to give the higher ones free reign at last?
Furthermore, the reality is that the Christian faith itself is a constraint on freedom. If we are striving to be good Christians, there are choices we must make, and therefore things that we must decide not to do: give in to our baser appetites, for instance, whether for unrestrained sexuality, greed for money, or the arrogance of power. The point is that we choose not to do these things, we are not constrained -- except by our conscience, and our beliefs -- to prevent us from doing so.
Nor is Christianity alone in this. Being a good citizen is also a constraint on freedom. We do not have, if we are law-abiding citizens, the freedom to drive 95 mph in a 25 mph zone, or konk someone on the head and take something they have that we want. But although we may be constrained in part by fear of the law, for most of us, most of the time, we are constrained largely by our own choice: not to do things which are unbecoming a citizen. We exercise our freedom of will in ways which constrain our freedom of action. Christianity is no different, except that it has (presumably) more cosmic and long-lasting effects.
The point about heaven is that, while our freedom of action may be constrained once we get there -- although the classical tradition would argue more by the purification of our desires than by some sort of rigidly-imposed moral strait-jacket -- our choice to seek heaven is a free one. If we choose to embrace the Christian faith, it is presumably, hopefully, because we have considered both the options and the consequences, and made our choice accordingly. Not everyone has, of course; some do it out of fear, some out of inertia. But that's the ideal.
Therefore, I must respectfully disagree with your assertion that "heaven is the very problem." Not so, my friend, not so.
I have other objections to your objections, but I shan't belabor the point. The above must suffice. At any rate, if I have a problem with Christianity, it is its exclusivity -- claiming to be the only way to union with God -- not with the nature of heaven.
Having said all that, I have to say also that I greatly appreciated and enjoyed your essay, particularly Parts II and III, when you actually addressed the book(s). I have read neither, although I am familiar with the contents and concepts contained therein -- and I agree with Harris that "Religion is the one area of our discourse where it is considered noble to pretend to be certain about things no human being could possibly be certain about." Rather odd, that.
Nonetheless, this review, overall, tends to confirm my gut sense that reading either Dawkins or Harris complaining about religion would be a waste of my time. I find it in part amusing, in part simply sad, that men of such great intellect would waste it attempting to disprove what cannot be disproved, and endeavoring to convince people who cannot be convinced. That they are operating far outside the bounds of their own disciplines, and thus are unfamiliar with the finer points and nuances of doctrine and discourse, is also usually painfully evident.
Far better, it seems to me, to devote such intellectual energy to finding ways in which believers (of all faiths) and non-believers alike can work together to better our world. That is what is chiefly needed, in my opinion. Should that be accomplished, we might actually have some tea in our terrestrial teapot.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Mother Nature's Valentine gift
After an unnaturally warm December and (most of) January, Winter has finally moved into the north-central region of Maryland (and many other places too, of course). A slow-moving coastal storm that began Monday evening and continued through Wednesday morning has dropped between five and six inches of mixed sleet, snow, and freezing rain -- mostly sleet -- on us.
Partial melting and compaction over the last two days has further compressed this into a layer of solid, white ice. It's really quite impressive, actually, as well as quite beautiful: I'm able to walk on top of it without sinking in, something that's rarely happened since I topped ??? lbs (what, did you think I was going to 'fess up?) some years ago, and the ice crystals sparkle with a diamond-like efect. It looks much like the top layer of a glacier; in fact, the whole effect is rather glacial-looking: I keep expecting a miniature mammoth to pop over a liliputian rise in the icy landscape!
But please don't get the idea I'm complaining. A half-dozen inches is nothing compared to the many feet they're digging out from, up in northern New York State, for instance, and the teens and twenties we're dealing with is balmy compared to, say, Minnesota. In fact, I'm kind of enjoying this. I had begun to fear we wouldn't really have a Winter, this year -- and I'm grateful to Mother Nature for thus ensuring that we really will appreciate Spring when it arrives!
Partial melting and compaction over the last two days has further compressed this into a layer of solid, white ice. It's really quite impressive, actually, as well as quite beautiful: I'm able to walk on top of it without sinking in, something that's rarely happened since I topped ??? lbs (what, did you think I was going to 'fess up?) some years ago, and the ice crystals sparkle with a diamond-like efect. It looks much like the top layer of a glacier; in fact, the whole effect is rather glacial-looking: I keep expecting a miniature mammoth to pop over a liliputian rise in the icy landscape!
But please don't get the idea I'm complaining. A half-dozen inches is nothing compared to the many feet they're digging out from, up in northern New York State, for instance, and the teens and twenties we're dealing with is balmy compared to, say, Minnesota. In fact, I'm kind of enjoying this. I had begun to fear we wouldn't really have a Winter, this year -- and I'm grateful to Mother Nature for thus ensuring that we really will appreciate Spring when it arrives!
Words of hope from Loreena McKennitt... and Gandhi
In the liner notes to her latest album, An Ancient Muse, Loreena McKennitt -- the Canadian neo-Celtic and world fusion singer with the amazingly ethereal voice, comments that this latest "musical document" includes "ruminations on the universal human themes of life and love, conquest and death; of home, identity, and the emigrations of people and the resulting evolution of culture." She continues,
These views certainly are not shared by the Islamofascists of al-Qaeda and its ilk. Alas, they are also apparently not shared by plenty of people here at home, either. While remaining mindful of the need to defend ourselves against those dedicated to our destruction, we must ensure that we present a credible philosophical and spiritual alternative to hatred, violence, and domination... not just present the same basic dish in a slightly different flavor.
But through it all, I am reminded of the words of Mahatma Gandhi, who said,
Our paths may differ but our quests are shared: our desire to love and be loved, our thirst for liberty and our need to be appreciated as unique individuals within the collectivity of our society... Ever-mindful of the weight of history behind us that allows us to draw lessons from its ancient voice, I have not wavered in my conviction that we are a culmination of our shared histories and that there should be more to bind us together than to tear us apart. Nor have I ceased to hope that in striving toward harmonious, integrated diversity, we will be guided by collective beliefs that will be life affirming at their core.I share both that conviction and that hope. Sadly, however, it appears that those of us who do so are a distinct minority in today's world.
These views certainly are not shared by the Islamofascists of al-Qaeda and its ilk. Alas, they are also apparently not shared by plenty of people here at home, either. While remaining mindful of the need to defend ourselves against those dedicated to our destruction, we must ensure that we present a credible philosophical and spiritual alternative to hatred, violence, and domination... not just present the same basic dish in a slightly different flavor.
But through it all, I am reminded of the words of Mahatma Gandhi, who said,
When I despair, I remember that, all through history, the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and, for a time, they may seem invincible. But in the end, they always fall. Think of it: always.May it always remain so.
A U.K. ritual for Darwin Day
I have no doubt that some people will get up in arms over this, but as one of those (apparently) rare birds who believes in God as Creator (primal Cause, unmoved Mover, primus mobile) and evolution as mechanism and process, I found this suggested "rite" for the commemoration of Darwin Day hilarious. The fact that I'm a strong afficionado of liturgy and ritual probably helped...
Striking a blow for food choice
Unlike our neighbor to the north, Pennsylvania, and a number of other states throughout the U.S., Maryland does not believe that people should have a right to purchase fresh, unpasteurized milk and other dairy products from trusted local farmers. Under the guise of protecting our health, the regulators are actually preventing us from enjoying the health benefits of milk and other dairy items which have not been "killed" by pasteurization, and which therefore contain their full compliment of enzymes and beneficial probiotics.
However, with the assistance of the Maryland Independent Consumer and Farmers Association (MICFA), that may be about to change. This very week the Health and Government Operations Committee of Maryland's House of Delegates is considering a bill that would de-regulate direct farmer-to-consumer sales of raw milk and dairy products, restoring both the right and responsibility to make informed food choices where it belongs: with the consumer. And, not incidentally, increasing the ability of small farmers to keep far more of the food dollar than they presently enjoy.
Here is my letter of support, sent to the Committee:
However, with the assistance of the Maryland Independent Consumer and Farmers Association (MICFA), that may be about to change. This very week the Health and Government Operations Committee of Maryland's House of Delegates is considering a bill that would de-regulate direct farmer-to-consumer sales of raw milk and dairy products, restoring both the right and responsibility to make informed food choices where it belongs: with the consumer. And, not incidentally, increasing the ability of small farmers to keep far more of the food dollar than they presently enjoy.
Here is my letter of support, sent to the Committee:
Honorable Delegates,Let's hope this bill not only passes in committee, but makes it through the other hoops and hurdles to become law. As I indicated in the letter above, small farmers, rural communities, the environment of Maryland (including the Bay), and the health of consumers stand only to benefit from the freedom to purchase and consumer this most basic and beneficial of natural foods.
Please let me add my voice to those already raised in support of HB1010, sponsored by Del. Mary Ann Love, which would legalize direct producer-to-consumer sales of raw milk.
It is deeply frustrating to me and to many that we do not have the choice to purchase and consume natural, fresh, unpasteurized milk and dairy products from trustworthy farmers in Maryland, despite considerable evidence of the health benefits such raw dairy products provide. At present, the system is skewed to support huge industrial dairies -- for whom pasteurization is an undeniable necessity -- and regulators have been unwilling or unable to think outside the box. HB1010, if enacted into law, would change that.
In the process, it would not only provide a major boost to health-smart consumers in the Old Line State, but it would help to enable more small farmers to stay on their land, by providing them with a greatly-enhanced source of income. This is good for consumers, farmers, rural communities, and the environment alike: the latter, particularly since farmers whose operations are geared toward on-farm sales of fresh, raw milk to savvy consumers also tend to be farmers practicing sustainable, ecologically-friendly farming methods. This, in turn, is a benefit to the Chesapeake Bay, as well as to our overall quality of life, state-wide.
For the health and well-being of consumers, farmers, and the land, I strongly encourage you to support HB1010.
My heartfelt thanks go to those members of the Committe who are co-sponsors of this bill: Peter Hammen, James Hubbard, Nicholaus Kipke, Karen Montgomery, and Joseline Peña-Melnyk. Those of us who care deeply about fresh, healthy, natural and local foods owe you a debt of gratitude.
And for the rest of you, I implore you to come onboard. With the passage of HB1010, we could be seeing the dawn of a new day for Maryland consumers and farmers alike.
Respectfully and with thanks,
Thomas H. Harbold
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Celebrity silliness, sleaze reflects poorly on U.S.
In the news today, three people are fighting over the body of recently-deceased starlet Anna Nicole Smith: her mother, the man who claims to be her husband, and the man who claims to be the father of her child. Actually the man who claims to be her husband claims to be the father of her child, too. I'm not sure which is more disreputable, that three people are fighting over custody of her corpse, or that this is considered newsworthy.
And then of course there's the saga of the Lisa Marie Nowak, the Space Shuttle "astro-nut" and married mother of three who drove 1,500 miles in diapers to confront her romantic rival for the affections of another astronaut, and stands charged with attempted kidnapping and murder. Only Smith's death prevented the media from making a bigger deal of this than they did.
It's no wonder that Islamic extremists worldwide consider the U.S. to be morally decadent, and that even some of our historic friends and allies are having trouble taking us seriously. Here we are, in the middle of a global war against terrorism, two active shooting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the potential of some sort of military action against Iran, and these stories lead the news. And we're the world's last surviving superpower.... it's sad, is what it is.
And then of course there's the saga of the Lisa Marie Nowak, the Space Shuttle "astro-nut" and married mother of three who drove 1,500 miles in diapers to confront her romantic rival for the affections of another astronaut, and stands charged with attempted kidnapping and murder. Only Smith's death prevented the media from making a bigger deal of this than they did.
It's no wonder that Islamic extremists worldwide consider the U.S. to be morally decadent, and that even some of our historic friends and allies are having trouble taking us seriously. Here we are, in the middle of a global war against terrorism, two active shooting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the potential of some sort of military action against Iran, and these stories lead the news. And we're the world's last surviving superpower.... it's sad, is what it is.
Personal news: Installation to the Subdiaconate
Some readers may know that, shortly prior to Advent of last year (2006), I switched ecclesiastical jurisdictions from the Episcopal Church to the Anglican Church in America, and was also granted postulancy for Holy Orders in that jurisdiction.
This coming Sunday, the 18th of February, during the 9:15 a.m. service, I (along with the other postulants in the parish) will be installed as a subdeacon at St. Stephens Traditional Episcopal Church, ACA, in Timonium, MD. In our tradition, this is installation to an office, not ordination (in the Roman Catholic Church, subdeacons are considered "clerks in minor orders"), but it is a further milepost on the journey.
I am also beginning efforts toward launching a mission parish of the ACA in Westminster, or at least in the Carroll County, MD, area. God willing, of course. We shall see what happens!
This coming Sunday, the 18th of February, during the 9:15 a.m. service, I (along with the other postulants in the parish) will be installed as a subdeacon at St. Stephens Traditional Episcopal Church, ACA, in Timonium, MD. In our tradition, this is installation to an office, not ordination (in the Roman Catholic Church, subdeacons are considered "clerks in minor orders"), but it is a further milepost on the journey.
I am also beginning efforts toward launching a mission parish of the ACA in Westminster, or at least in the Carroll County, MD, area. God willing, of course. We shall see what happens!
A new year, a new effort
As I stated in my profile, in this new year of 2007 I have decided to once again try my hand at "blogging." An unattractive word, if I may say so, for an attractive concept: the idea that ordinary human beings might have something to say that others might be interested in hearing (or reading).
The majority of my posts will probably be the weekly columns I write for the Carroll County Times, a daily newspaper headquartered in Westminster, MD (if you are a publisher, print or web, who may be interested in carrying my column, please let me know -- contact info is found in my Profile). These will be interspersed with (usually) shorter comments not otherwise published.
So, with no further ado, welcome to the newly-relaunched Albion's Meade! I hope you enjoy it, and that it provokes thought and reflection on some of the issues facing us as we move further into this new century, and new millenium.
Respectfully,
Tom
The majority of my posts will probably be the weekly columns I write for the Carroll County Times, a daily newspaper headquartered in Westminster, MD (if you are a publisher, print or web, who may be interested in carrying my column, please let me know -- contact info is found in my Profile). These will be interspersed with (usually) shorter comments not otherwise published.
So, with no further ado, welcome to the newly-relaunched Albion's Meade! I hope you enjoy it, and that it provokes thought and reflection on some of the issues facing us as we move further into this new century, and new millenium.
Respectfully,
Tom
Trans fats tip of Orwellian iceberg (Column: 2/13/07)
If, as seems likely, avoidance is the typical American response when faced with a problem, overreaction is the typical American response when the problem can no longer be ignored. Case in point: trans fats.
Some astute nutritionists, especially those of unconventional persuasions, have been saying for some time that the likely culprit in coronary heart disease is not natural fats, saturated or otherwise, but unnatural ones, such as trans fats, as well as other industrially processed and refined foods. Small quantities of trans fats occur naturally in meats and dairy products, but these naturally-occurring fats have not been implicated in health problems.
The problematic fats are those created artificially by injecting hydrogen into vegetable oils to make them mimic the texture and behavior of naturally-occurring saturated fats. Crisco, for instance, is an artificially-created hydrogenated vegetable oil specifically intended to look and feel like lard. Now, ironically, it is turning out that lard is a good deal healthier for us than Crisco. This is a good example of why it pays to be skeptical of faddish health and dietary claims, and look to traditional foods and diets instead -- but I digress.
Now that it has been confirmed that trans fats are indeed a serious health risk, not only are restaurants and food manufacturers scrambling to find alternatives (some of which have their own problems associated with them), but many municipalities across the country are passing legislation to ban the use of trans fats.
That's where I draw the line.
For the record, I am very pleased that trans fats are being discredited. But I am not pleased that any time something appears to be bad for us, we pass laws to ban it. This kind of nanny-state mentality does us little credit, either as Americans or as humans. It should not be necessary to spell this out, but perhaps it is: freedom includes the freedom to make bad choices. Bad choices come with consequences, from which (hopefully, if we survive) we draw the experience to make better choices in the future.
Regulating every jot and tittle of our lives not only robs us of freedom, it robs us of the opportunity to learn and grow through our experiences. It moves us closer and closer to an Orwellian existence as automatons under the watchful eye of Big Brother, enjoying the last modicum of illusory freedom: the freedom to choose which corporate-controlled, government-approved channel to watch on our giant-screen plasma TVs.
I am exaggerating, of course, but maybe not by much. We see this nanny-statism all around us, and the trend seems to be growing. I don't smoke, in fact I strongly dislike smoking, but I'm still troubled by moves to ban smoking in all public places -- in some municipalities, even outdoors -- and if some radicals had their way, even inside private homes. I am troubled by plans to conduct body-mass indicator (BMI) tests on school-children and send the results home.
I am troubled by the response to the E. coli spinach scare, which is to recommend the creation of a massive new federal bureaucracy that will allegedly guarantee food safety (the same way the Feds guarantee border security, or success in Iraq?), rather than allowing people to make their own choices between industrially mass-produced and centrally-distributed foods, or local foods purchased from a trusted farmer.
And this is just a handful of the more prominent examples. Each of these can be defended, individually, on various grounds. But collectively, they add up to a massive invasion of our rights to privacy and self-determination. We are losing our freedom in the only way we can lose it: by passive acquiescence.
Lulled by high technology, labor-saving devices, and mind-numbing entertainment, Americans have gotten out of the habit of doing for themselves, and into the habit of expecting government to do it all for us: including make our decisions. And government, which by its very nature tends toward the ever more centralized and authoritarian, is all too willing to respond.
I hope I will not be found too irreverent if I paraphrase Martin Neimoeller's famous dictum: “They came for the smokers, and I did not speak, because I was not a smoker. They came for the junk-food eaters, and I did not speak, because I ate little junk food. They came for the trans-fat consumers, and I did not speak, because I avoid trans fats. Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak.”
Some astute nutritionists, especially those of unconventional persuasions, have been saying for some time that the likely culprit in coronary heart disease is not natural fats, saturated or otherwise, but unnatural ones, such as trans fats, as well as other industrially processed and refined foods. Small quantities of trans fats occur naturally in meats and dairy products, but these naturally-occurring fats have not been implicated in health problems.
The problematic fats are those created artificially by injecting hydrogen into vegetable oils to make them mimic the texture and behavior of naturally-occurring saturated fats. Crisco, for instance, is an artificially-created hydrogenated vegetable oil specifically intended to look and feel like lard. Now, ironically, it is turning out that lard is a good deal healthier for us than Crisco. This is a good example of why it pays to be skeptical of faddish health and dietary claims, and look to traditional foods and diets instead -- but I digress.
Now that it has been confirmed that trans fats are indeed a serious health risk, not only are restaurants and food manufacturers scrambling to find alternatives (some of which have their own problems associated with them), but many municipalities across the country are passing legislation to ban the use of trans fats.
That's where I draw the line.
For the record, I am very pleased that trans fats are being discredited. But I am not pleased that any time something appears to be bad for us, we pass laws to ban it. This kind of nanny-state mentality does us little credit, either as Americans or as humans. It should not be necessary to spell this out, but perhaps it is: freedom includes the freedom to make bad choices. Bad choices come with consequences, from which (hopefully, if we survive) we draw the experience to make better choices in the future.
Regulating every jot and tittle of our lives not only robs us of freedom, it robs us of the opportunity to learn and grow through our experiences. It moves us closer and closer to an Orwellian existence as automatons under the watchful eye of Big Brother, enjoying the last modicum of illusory freedom: the freedom to choose which corporate-controlled, government-approved channel to watch on our giant-screen plasma TVs.
I am exaggerating, of course, but maybe not by much. We see this nanny-statism all around us, and the trend seems to be growing. I don't smoke, in fact I strongly dislike smoking, but I'm still troubled by moves to ban smoking in all public places -- in some municipalities, even outdoors -- and if some radicals had their way, even inside private homes. I am troubled by plans to conduct body-mass indicator (BMI) tests on school-children and send the results home.
I am troubled by the response to the E. coli spinach scare, which is to recommend the creation of a massive new federal bureaucracy that will allegedly guarantee food safety (the same way the Feds guarantee border security, or success in Iraq?), rather than allowing people to make their own choices between industrially mass-produced and centrally-distributed foods, or local foods purchased from a trusted farmer.
And this is just a handful of the more prominent examples. Each of these can be defended, individually, on various grounds. But collectively, they add up to a massive invasion of our rights to privacy and self-determination. We are losing our freedom in the only way we can lose it: by passive acquiescence.
Lulled by high technology, labor-saving devices, and mind-numbing entertainment, Americans have gotten out of the habit of doing for themselves, and into the habit of expecting government to do it all for us: including make our decisions. And government, which by its very nature tends toward the ever more centralized and authoritarian, is all too willing to respond.
I hope I will not be found too irreverent if I paraphrase Martin Neimoeller's famous dictum: “They came for the smokers, and I did not speak, because I was not a smoker. They came for the junk-food eaters, and I did not speak, because I ate little junk food. They came for the trans-fat consumers, and I did not speak, because I avoid trans fats. Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak.”
Real food versus "nutritionism" (Column: 2/6/07)
Partially hydrogenated cottonseed oil, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, hydrolyzed vegetable proteins, monosodium glutamate, sodium alginate, disodium guanylate, sodium tripolyphosphate, tocopherols.
What am I listing? These are just a sampling of the more than fifty ingredients in a convenience food product called "Hearty Cup o' Noodles" (source: "Know Your Ingredients," in Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon).
Such mind-boggling, and tongue-twisting, ingredient lists are the rule rather than the exception among the brightly-colored packages of processed and prepared foods that line our grocery shelves these days. Convenient, yes; attractive, certainly. But healthy? That's a whole 'nother story. It's a story that is told by, among others, Michael Pollan -- author of the highly acclaimed The Omnivore's Dilemma -- in a New York Times article entitled "Unhappy Meals."
The problem, as Pollan sees it -- and I heartily agree -- is that the whole eating experience has been taken over by a worldview that he calls "nutritionism": a paradigm that takes nutrients out of the context of food, food out of the context of meals, and meals out of the context of culture.
Not all cultures share this view, however, and some of them who consider such things as pleasure and socializing, rather than health, to be the centerpiece of eating are actually healthier than we are. The French are a popular case in point.
My own suspicion is that by taking the emphasis away from flavor, enjoyment, and communal bonding, nutritionism probably has a negative effect on overall health, if only because it makes eating yet another source of stress, rather than pleasure and relaxation. As Pollan notes, "Worrying about eating can't possibly be good for you."
Still, what you eat does matter. The challenge, nowadays, is discerning authentic food from laboratory-created imitations.
Once, Pollan points out, food was all you could eat. But now, he notes, there are "lots of other edible foodlike substances in the supermarket." Some of them even make health claims. However, he notes, "if you're concerned about your health, you should probably avoid food products that make health claims. Why? Because a health claim on a food product is a good indication that it's not really food, and food is what you want to eat."
So what counts as food? According to Pollan, eat food your great-grandmother would recognize as food. Get out of the supermarket, and buy local and seasonal foods. Pay more (for high-quality food); eat less (of everything). Avoid food products that make health claims, have ingredients that are unfamiliar, unpronounceable, or more than five in number, or that contain high-fructose corn syrup.
Pollan further recommends, "Eat more like the French. Or the Japanese. Or the Italians. Or the Greeks. Confounding factors aside, people who eat according to the rules of a traditional food culture are generally healthier than we are. Any traditional diet will do: if it weren't a healthy diet, the people who follow it wouldn't still be around."
This is an important point, also made by Sally Fallon and the Weston A. Price Foundation: fad diets based on theories and short-term studies are untrustworthy. Traditional diets that have kept traditional peoples healthy for hundreds or even thousands of years are vastly more likely to be healthy for modern people, even if some of their contents seem to go against the grain of contemporary nutritional orthodoxy.
Pollan and Nina Planck, author of Real Food: What to Eat and Why and The Farmers Market Cookbook, both agree that Mom was right: fruits and vegetables should make up the majority of a healthy diet. Pollan emphasizes leafy vegetables, and acknowledges that meat is okay, though more as a side dish than the main course. Planck flatly asserts, on her realfood.com website, that "meat, fish, poultry, eggs, and milk are some of the best foods you can eat. Most traditional diets contain plenty of all of them, and even traditional vegetarian diets all rely on milk and eggs for complete protein, B vitamins, and essential fats. There are no traditional vegan societies."
Finally, Pollan recommends, do your own cooking, and ideally, plant a garden. Don't be a passive recipient of prepackaged nutrients; rather, "take part in the intricate and endlessly interesting processes of providing for our sustenance." Do your part to combat the corrosive idea that "food is fuel, and not communion. The culture of the kitchen," he notes, "contains more wisdom about diet and health than you are apt to find in any nutrition journal or journalism."
The bottom line is this: want real health? Eat real food. Bon appetit!
What am I listing? These are just a sampling of the more than fifty ingredients in a convenience food product called "Hearty Cup o' Noodles" (source: "Know Your Ingredients," in Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon).
Such mind-boggling, and tongue-twisting, ingredient lists are the rule rather than the exception among the brightly-colored packages of processed and prepared foods that line our grocery shelves these days. Convenient, yes; attractive, certainly. But healthy? That's a whole 'nother story. It's a story that is told by, among others, Michael Pollan -- author of the highly acclaimed The Omnivore's Dilemma -- in a New York Times article entitled "Unhappy Meals."
The problem, as Pollan sees it -- and I heartily agree -- is that the whole eating experience has been taken over by a worldview that he calls "nutritionism": a paradigm that takes nutrients out of the context of food, food out of the context of meals, and meals out of the context of culture.
Not all cultures share this view, however, and some of them who consider such things as pleasure and socializing, rather than health, to be the centerpiece of eating are actually healthier than we are. The French are a popular case in point.
My own suspicion is that by taking the emphasis away from flavor, enjoyment, and communal bonding, nutritionism probably has a negative effect on overall health, if only because it makes eating yet another source of stress, rather than pleasure and relaxation. As Pollan notes, "Worrying about eating can't possibly be good for you."
Still, what you eat does matter. The challenge, nowadays, is discerning authentic food from laboratory-created imitations.
Once, Pollan points out, food was all you could eat. But now, he notes, there are "lots of other edible foodlike substances in the supermarket." Some of them even make health claims. However, he notes, "if you're concerned about your health, you should probably avoid food products that make health claims. Why? Because a health claim on a food product is a good indication that it's not really food, and food is what you want to eat."
So what counts as food? According to Pollan, eat food your great-grandmother would recognize as food. Get out of the supermarket, and buy local and seasonal foods. Pay more (for high-quality food); eat less (of everything). Avoid food products that make health claims, have ingredients that are unfamiliar, unpronounceable, or more than five in number, or that contain high-fructose corn syrup.
Pollan further recommends, "Eat more like the French. Or the Japanese. Or the Italians. Or the Greeks. Confounding factors aside, people who eat according to the rules of a traditional food culture are generally healthier than we are. Any traditional diet will do: if it weren't a healthy diet, the people who follow it wouldn't still be around."
This is an important point, also made by Sally Fallon and the Weston A. Price Foundation: fad diets based on theories and short-term studies are untrustworthy. Traditional diets that have kept traditional peoples healthy for hundreds or even thousands of years are vastly more likely to be healthy for modern people, even if some of their contents seem to go against the grain of contemporary nutritional orthodoxy.
Pollan and Nina Planck, author of Real Food: What to Eat and Why and The Farmers Market Cookbook, both agree that Mom was right: fruits and vegetables should make up the majority of a healthy diet. Pollan emphasizes leafy vegetables, and acknowledges that meat is okay, though more as a side dish than the main course. Planck flatly asserts, on her realfood.com website, that "meat, fish, poultry, eggs, and milk are some of the best foods you can eat. Most traditional diets contain plenty of all of them, and even traditional vegetarian diets all rely on milk and eggs for complete protein, B vitamins, and essential fats. There are no traditional vegan societies."
Finally, Pollan recommends, do your own cooking, and ideally, plant a garden. Don't be a passive recipient of prepackaged nutrients; rather, "take part in the intricate and endlessly interesting processes of providing for our sustenance." Do your part to combat the corrosive idea that "food is fuel, and not communion. The culture of the kitchen," he notes, "contains more wisdom about diet and health than you are apt to find in any nutrition journal or journalism."
The bottom line is this: want real health? Eat real food. Bon appetit!
Of Candlemas and Groundhog Day (Column: 1/30/07)
"February second, Candlemas day: half your wood, and half your hay. Half the winter has passed away, we'll eat our supper by the light of day!"
This old rhyme hearkens back to an earlier time in our nation's history, when our society was mostly rural and agricultural, when we could not simply go to the Wal-Mart or the SuperFresh and buy more of whatever we were running short of: when the seasons, and our preparation for them, could be literally a matter of life or death.
"As the light lengthens, so the cold strengthens." This is another old saw, the truth of which we have certainly seen this year. With most of December and even the first part of January vernally warm, the recent cold snap has seemed all the more brutal. But really, it's just part of the natural cycle of things: the coldest days of all the year typically fall in late January and early February.
It's no surprise, then, that February second, which we know as Groundhog Day and earlier generations knew as Candlemas, Brigitmas, or earlier yet, Imbolc -- falling as it does halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox -- was understood as the halfway point of the winter. If, on this day, you have "half your grain and half your hay, you'll make it safely through 'til May," as yet another old proverb put it.
But what's the deal with the groundhog, anyway? Why "Groundhog Day"? I never quite understood that, either, until I listened to naturalist and storyteller Doug Elliott. On his CD, "Groundhogology: Whistle-pigs and World Politics," he explains that the end of January and early February is groundhog mating season. These portly rodents, who have been hibernating since fall, get up, drag themselves out of their dens -- at least the males do -- and go looking for love. That makes them one of the earlier signs of coming spring.
But why, if a groundhog sees his shadow, do we get six more weeks of winter? That is a more complex question, and linked to spiritual and metaphysical speculation. The idea dates, Elliott says, back to ancient bear and badger cults, in pre-Christian Europe. The ancients "didn't so much worship bears and badgers," he says, "as they watched them." And they saw them crawl underground in the fall, and seemingly die. But then, in the spring, they appeared to be reborn, coming out of their dens refreshed and reinvigorated.
The ancients believed, as many primal peoples do to this day, that all animals and not just humans had a spirit or soul. And animals, like humans, had a shadow side. "We all have a shadow," Elliott points out. We all have a "dark side" to our personalities, what the Christian tradition names as sin. But the ancient peoples believed that when we die, that shadow side is washed away, and we are reborn fresh and new.
Thus when a bear or badger -- or a groundhog -- sleeps the sleep of death in hibernation, its shadow-side too is washed away. But if it sees some of that shadow lingering when it comes out of its den, it dives back underground to complete the healing and cleansing process... and we have six more weeks of winter.
Now, you can take this idea or leave it, as suits your preference. But at least it does a better job of explaining the old "groundhog sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter" story than any other I've run across!
The more practical view is that February second is the halfway point between Solstice and Equinox, and thus the halfway point of the deepest cold of winter. We can be reasonably confident of six more weeks of gradually-mellowing winter, no matter what ol' Punxatawney Phil sees and does.
But we can still enjoy eating our supper by the light of day, and it's still a good time to take stock of our lives and our resources. Do we have enough of whatever we need, for the next phase of life's journey? Are there things we can or should lay aside, shadows we need to cast off?
The second of February occurs on Friday of this week. In the days between now and then, why not take some time to take stock of our lives and resources, material and spiritual alike? And whether you celebrate Candlemas, Imbolc, or Groundhog Day, here's wishing you a restful hibernation, and a fruitful awakening.
This old rhyme hearkens back to an earlier time in our nation's history, when our society was mostly rural and agricultural, when we could not simply go to the Wal-Mart or the SuperFresh and buy more of whatever we were running short of: when the seasons, and our preparation for them, could be literally a matter of life or death.
"As the light lengthens, so the cold strengthens." This is another old saw, the truth of which we have certainly seen this year. With most of December and even the first part of January vernally warm, the recent cold snap has seemed all the more brutal. But really, it's just part of the natural cycle of things: the coldest days of all the year typically fall in late January and early February.
It's no surprise, then, that February second, which we know as Groundhog Day and earlier generations knew as Candlemas, Brigitmas, or earlier yet, Imbolc -- falling as it does halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox -- was understood as the halfway point of the winter. If, on this day, you have "half your grain and half your hay, you'll make it safely through 'til May," as yet another old proverb put it.
But what's the deal with the groundhog, anyway? Why "Groundhog Day"? I never quite understood that, either, until I listened to naturalist and storyteller Doug Elliott. On his CD, "Groundhogology: Whistle-pigs and World Politics," he explains that the end of January and early February is groundhog mating season. These portly rodents, who have been hibernating since fall, get up, drag themselves out of their dens -- at least the males do -- and go looking for love. That makes them one of the earlier signs of coming spring.
But why, if a groundhog sees his shadow, do we get six more weeks of winter? That is a more complex question, and linked to spiritual and metaphysical speculation. The idea dates, Elliott says, back to ancient bear and badger cults, in pre-Christian Europe. The ancients "didn't so much worship bears and badgers," he says, "as they watched them." And they saw them crawl underground in the fall, and seemingly die. But then, in the spring, they appeared to be reborn, coming out of their dens refreshed and reinvigorated.
The ancients believed, as many primal peoples do to this day, that all animals and not just humans had a spirit or soul. And animals, like humans, had a shadow side. "We all have a shadow," Elliott points out. We all have a "dark side" to our personalities, what the Christian tradition names as sin. But the ancient peoples believed that when we die, that shadow side is washed away, and we are reborn fresh and new.
Thus when a bear or badger -- or a groundhog -- sleeps the sleep of death in hibernation, its shadow-side too is washed away. But if it sees some of that shadow lingering when it comes out of its den, it dives back underground to complete the healing and cleansing process... and we have six more weeks of winter.
Now, you can take this idea or leave it, as suits your preference. But at least it does a better job of explaining the old "groundhog sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter" story than any other I've run across!
The more practical view is that February second is the halfway point between Solstice and Equinox, and thus the halfway point of the deepest cold of winter. We can be reasonably confident of six more weeks of gradually-mellowing winter, no matter what ol' Punxatawney Phil sees and does.
But we can still enjoy eating our supper by the light of day, and it's still a good time to take stock of our lives and our resources. Do we have enough of whatever we need, for the next phase of life's journey? Are there things we can or should lay aside, shadows we need to cast off?
The second of February occurs on Friday of this week. In the days between now and then, why not take some time to take stock of our lives and resources, material and spiritual alike? And whether you celebrate Candlemas, Imbolc, or Groundhog Day, here's wishing you a restful hibernation, and a fruitful awakening.
Barak Obama and the art of nuance (Column: 1/23/07)
Illinois Senator Barak Obama is currently the darling of the media, having recently announced the formation of a Presidential exploratory committee. This is perhaps not surprising. He is young, photogenic, articulate, and tends to speak in terms of bringing people together, rather than separating them -- a refreshing breath of air, in a country often bitterly and rancorously divided by partisanship.
However, it's an old saying that any shaft of wheat that sticks its head above its neighbors will get cut down. And so Senator Obama has been drawing fire -- especially from the left -- for being, of all things, "too nuanced." Too nuanced? Give me a break! After years of black-and-white, my-way-or-the-highway rhetoric from both left and right, we could use a little nuance in our nation's political discourse. Actually, we could use a lot.
Now, it is an open question as to whether Senator Obama is really as nuanced in his thinking as his own rhetoric makes him appear: his voting record, what there is of it, reveals a solidly liberal Democrat. But whether Obama proves to be the man the times are calling for or merely a flash in the pan, I repeat that our national discourse could use a large helping of nuance.
I don't think I'm stupid, but I fail to understand why the American electorate is not interested in any opinion or perspective which cannot be boiled down to a 30-second sound bite. Actually, I take that back: I do understand it, all too well. We have become addicted to 30-second sound bites, thanks to at least two generations of TV commercials, and now the internet. This shortening of the American attention span does us a real disservice, because issues of any substance cannot be discussed adequately, still less resolved, in 30 seconds.
Whatever our principles and ideals -- and principles and ideals are good and worthy things, believe me -- the reality is that life happens not in black and white, but in shades of grey. We need someone in the White House who is not only capable of perceiving shades of grey, but of working within them to get things done and move the country ahead in a positive matter. Right now, Republicans and Democrats are solidly dug into their own entrenched positions like the Allies and Germans in World War One, shelling each other back and forth across No-Man's Land.
Something has to give, because just as the physical landscape of France was destroyed by the artillery barrages of WWI, the rhetorical crossfire between left and right is really tearing up the terrain of our national life. The razor-thin margins by which Presidents have been elected, and even the Houses of Congress controlled, in recent years demonstrates the sharpness of the divide, and those of us who are huddled, somewhat uncomfortably, on the middle ground spend more and more of our time looking apprehensively at the armies gathering to the left and right.
I use the term "armies" advisedly, of course. Thankfully, America has been spared the warring of rival militias which has devastated Iraq, Somalia, and many other nations worldwide. Our system still works. But it is seriously strained by the level of rancor, mistrust, and one-upsmanship which has replaced civility and domestic statesmanship on the national scene.
Doctrinal orthodoxy, which may be admirable (to a point) in religion, has become the order of the day in politics. Some Democrats feel that they cannot even be friends with anyone who voted for George Bush, and some Republicans feel the same way about someone who might be willing to vote for Hillary Clinton. This is hardly a recipe for domestic tranquility.
It is, of course, far too early to determine whether Barak Obama is the one to break this philosophical gridlock, and restore a spirit of cooperation, civility, and bipartisanship to American politics. In fact, that is undoubtedly too much to expect of any one person.
Still, someone has to make a start. I firmly believe that we need more nuance and less absolutism; less black-and-white posturing and more willingness to work within the shades of grey which are an inevitable part of politics. If Senator Obama can make that start, more power to him. Time will tell whether he is the best person to fill the Oval Office after the 2008 elections. But whatever else he may or may not be, Obama deserves credit, not blame, for trying to restore the lost art of political nuance.
However, it's an old saying that any shaft of wheat that sticks its head above its neighbors will get cut down. And so Senator Obama has been drawing fire -- especially from the left -- for being, of all things, "too nuanced." Too nuanced? Give me a break! After years of black-and-white, my-way-or-the-highway rhetoric from both left and right, we could use a little nuance in our nation's political discourse. Actually, we could use a lot.
Now, it is an open question as to whether Senator Obama is really as nuanced in his thinking as his own rhetoric makes him appear: his voting record, what there is of it, reveals a solidly liberal Democrat. But whether Obama proves to be the man the times are calling for or merely a flash in the pan, I repeat that our national discourse could use a large helping of nuance.
I don't think I'm stupid, but I fail to understand why the American electorate is not interested in any opinion or perspective which cannot be boiled down to a 30-second sound bite. Actually, I take that back: I do understand it, all too well. We have become addicted to 30-second sound bites, thanks to at least two generations of TV commercials, and now the internet. This shortening of the American attention span does us a real disservice, because issues of any substance cannot be discussed adequately, still less resolved, in 30 seconds.
Whatever our principles and ideals -- and principles and ideals are good and worthy things, believe me -- the reality is that life happens not in black and white, but in shades of grey. We need someone in the White House who is not only capable of perceiving shades of grey, but of working within them to get things done and move the country ahead in a positive matter. Right now, Republicans and Democrats are solidly dug into their own entrenched positions like the Allies and Germans in World War One, shelling each other back and forth across No-Man's Land.
Something has to give, because just as the physical landscape of France was destroyed by the artillery barrages of WWI, the rhetorical crossfire between left and right is really tearing up the terrain of our national life. The razor-thin margins by which Presidents have been elected, and even the Houses of Congress controlled, in recent years demonstrates the sharpness of the divide, and those of us who are huddled, somewhat uncomfortably, on the middle ground spend more and more of our time looking apprehensively at the armies gathering to the left and right.
I use the term "armies" advisedly, of course. Thankfully, America has been spared the warring of rival militias which has devastated Iraq, Somalia, and many other nations worldwide. Our system still works. But it is seriously strained by the level of rancor, mistrust, and one-upsmanship which has replaced civility and domestic statesmanship on the national scene.
Doctrinal orthodoxy, which may be admirable (to a point) in religion, has become the order of the day in politics. Some Democrats feel that they cannot even be friends with anyone who voted for George Bush, and some Republicans feel the same way about someone who might be willing to vote for Hillary Clinton. This is hardly a recipe for domestic tranquility.
It is, of course, far too early to determine whether Barak Obama is the one to break this philosophical gridlock, and restore a spirit of cooperation, civility, and bipartisanship to American politics. In fact, that is undoubtedly too much to expect of any one person.
Still, someone has to make a start. I firmly believe that we need more nuance and less absolutism; less black-and-white posturing and more willingness to work within the shades of grey which are an inevitable part of politics. If Senator Obama can make that start, more power to him. Time will tell whether he is the best person to fill the Oval Office after the 2008 elections. But whatever else he may or may not be, Obama deserves credit, not blame, for trying to restore the lost art of political nuance.
Just in time, or too little, too late? (Column: 1/16/07)
I'm torn between two ways to characterize President Bush's plan to “surge” more than 20,000 additional troops into Iraq over the next several months: one is “it's about time,” the other is “too little too late.” They are variations on a theme, and the difference between them is hair-thin.
The sad reality is that this administration, and this country, has not taken this war seriously enough from the outset. Oh, certain segments of the public have, of course, especially those directly affected because they have loved ones in the armed forces. And the armed forces themselves have certainly taken it seriously. They have given the last full measure of devotion to their country, regardless of how flawed both the justification for going to war, and the execution of it, may have been.
But from the beginning, much of the administration and the country have treated the war as a sideshow. While claiming its centrality in the war against terror, the Bush administration has called for no general mobilization, no increase (until quite recently) in the size of the military, no sacrifices on the part of the citizens of this country. It has been slow is providing material support -- such as body and vehicular armor -- needed by troops in Iraq, and has consistently underestimated the number of troops needed to control the situation on the ground, once the initial military phases of the overthrow of Saddam Hussein were over.
And lacking leadership from the President, the public has been basically happy to go along. The length of this war has now exceeded that of World War Two. During World War Two, the public bought war bonds, planted victory gardens, endured rationing to make sure the troops got the first and best of everything, worked extra shifts in plants producing military materiel, and enlisted in droves. We may have yellow "support our troops" ribbons on our SUVs, but show little concrete action to back the words.
Of course, one obvious difference is that in World War Two, we were directly attacked. In the war in Iraq, we were the ones doing the attacking. So the parallels are not precise.
Nonetheless, the point is that if you're going to fight a war, you'd better darned well do it right. You'd better go in there like you mean it, and make sure you have the troops and materiel to make a success of it. General (later Secretary of State) Colin Powell, when he served as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during the presidency of the first George Bush, got it right in his so-called “Powell doctrine”: if you're going to fight, you go in with overwhelming force, and you make sure you've got a clear exit strategy.
The Iraq war has thus far been an abject failure on both points. That dishonors our troops and discredits the United States of America. As Commander in Chief, based on our performance in Iraq, President Bush deserves to be cited for malfeasant in office. Now, belatedly, he's trying to accomplish what should have been done in the first place. He and his advisors appear to have forgotten the old saying about do it right the first time, because it's far more difficult and expensive to come back and fix it, later.
And so, here in the eleventh hour, we're surging in more troops. And, forgive me for saying so, a pitifully small number of troops. If we were genuinely serious about bringing this war to a satisfactory conclusion, we ought to be surging in 50,000 to 100,000 more troops -- possibly even doubling the number we have there now.
Oh, that's right, I forgot: we don't have that many more troops. From the Clinton administration until very recently, we've been focusing on reducing our troop strength, because our technology is so incredible we don't need as many boots on the ground as we used to, back in the old days. Yeah, right. We've seen how well that works.
So, is the current proposed troop surge “just in the nick of time,” or “too little, too late”? I don't know. Ask me in six months. If I had a crystal ball, I'd be making oodles of money in a Washington think-tank somewhere. But I do know this: if this latest strategy doesn't work, if we're stuck in an endless meat-grinder in Iraq, or worse yet forced to withdraw with our tail between our legs, we'll be in for a world of hurt over the years and decades to come.
So we'd better get down on our knees and pray it works.
The sad reality is that this administration, and this country, has not taken this war seriously enough from the outset. Oh, certain segments of the public have, of course, especially those directly affected because they have loved ones in the armed forces. And the armed forces themselves have certainly taken it seriously. They have given the last full measure of devotion to their country, regardless of how flawed both the justification for going to war, and the execution of it, may have been.
But from the beginning, much of the administration and the country have treated the war as a sideshow. While claiming its centrality in the war against terror, the Bush administration has called for no general mobilization, no increase (until quite recently) in the size of the military, no sacrifices on the part of the citizens of this country. It has been slow is providing material support -- such as body and vehicular armor -- needed by troops in Iraq, and has consistently underestimated the number of troops needed to control the situation on the ground, once the initial military phases of the overthrow of Saddam Hussein were over.
And lacking leadership from the President, the public has been basically happy to go along. The length of this war has now exceeded that of World War Two. During World War Two, the public bought war bonds, planted victory gardens, endured rationing to make sure the troops got the first and best of everything, worked extra shifts in plants producing military materiel, and enlisted in droves. We may have yellow "support our troops" ribbons on our SUVs, but show little concrete action to back the words.
Of course, one obvious difference is that in World War Two, we were directly attacked. In the war in Iraq, we were the ones doing the attacking. So the parallels are not precise.
Nonetheless, the point is that if you're going to fight a war, you'd better darned well do it right. You'd better go in there like you mean it, and make sure you have the troops and materiel to make a success of it. General (later Secretary of State) Colin Powell, when he served as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during the presidency of the first George Bush, got it right in his so-called “Powell doctrine”: if you're going to fight, you go in with overwhelming force, and you make sure you've got a clear exit strategy.
The Iraq war has thus far been an abject failure on both points. That dishonors our troops and discredits the United States of America. As Commander in Chief, based on our performance in Iraq, President Bush deserves to be cited for malfeasant in office. Now, belatedly, he's trying to accomplish what should have been done in the first place. He and his advisors appear to have forgotten the old saying about do it right the first time, because it's far more difficult and expensive to come back and fix it, later.
And so, here in the eleventh hour, we're surging in more troops. And, forgive me for saying so, a pitifully small number of troops. If we were genuinely serious about bringing this war to a satisfactory conclusion, we ought to be surging in 50,000 to 100,000 more troops -- possibly even doubling the number we have there now.
Oh, that's right, I forgot: we don't have that many more troops. From the Clinton administration until very recently, we've been focusing on reducing our troop strength, because our technology is so incredible we don't need as many boots on the ground as we used to, back in the old days. Yeah, right. We've seen how well that works.
So, is the current proposed troop surge “just in the nick of time,” or “too little, too late”? I don't know. Ask me in six months. If I had a crystal ball, I'd be making oodles of money in a Washington think-tank somewhere. But I do know this: if this latest strategy doesn't work, if we're stuck in an endless meat-grinder in Iraq, or worse yet forced to withdraw with our tail between our legs, we'll be in for a world of hurt over the years and decades to come.
So we'd better get down on our knees and pray it works.
Polar Bears in Peril (Column: 1/9/07)
They're big... very big. They look cuddly, from a distance. The young ones, especially. The mothers and cubs play together in ways that seem almost human-like, at times. But they're massive and lethal killing machines, especially if you're a seal. Even if you're not, you might find yourself being mistaken for food: they've attacked humans, and human structures and settlements, before. And in order to survive, they need sea ice -- a lot of it.
"They" are polar bears: the biggest, most powerful ursines on the planet. And in a remarkable decision with far-reaching implications, the Bush administration has requested that they be listed as "threatened" under the Endangered Species Act, on the grounds that their sea-ice hunting grounds are shrinking dramatically due to global warming.
The reason for the requested listing was very specific and categorical; other threats -- including the possibility of over-hunting, oil exploration, and pollution -- were explored, but ruled out as major threats to the bears' future well-being. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, an agency of the Department of the Interior, global warming leading to the melting of sea ice is the issue.
Coming from this administration, that admission is startling, if not stunning. If nothing else, it should serve as a shot across the bows of the few remaining flat-earthers who don't believe global warming is a real problem. And it may well place the U.S. government in the position of being required, by its own laws and regulations, to make a genuine effort to reduce carbon emissions from factories, power plants, and motor vehicles: something it has resisted doing for the last six years.
Polar bears are what ecologists call an "indicator species" -- an improbably large "canary in the coal mine," that lets us know when things are getting dangerously out of balance. And they are. Ironically but tellingly, shortly after this announcement came the news that a huge ice-shelf, 43 square miles in area and 3,000 years old, had broken off from Ellesmere Island in the Canadian Arctic. We are clearly approaching, if indeed we are not already in, a crisis. In fact, a recent report by British climate scientists suggests that 2007 may be the warmest year yet. It's not just the polar bears, either: warming temperatures could result in a major die-back of northern boreal forests, releasing still more carbon into the air and exacerbating the problem.
Warming trends have appeared in the earth's past, and it is tempting to dismiss the current situation as yet another of these normal fluctuations. But never before in the past have human beings been pumping so much CO2 into the atmosphere: mostly from burning fossil fuels such as oil and coal, themselves made largely of previously-sequestered carbon, and also from clearing forests, which would otherwise absorb and neutralize carbon.
Whether we are the sole cause of the problem or not (and there is some evidence that we would actually be in a global cool spell, were it not for human-generated greenhouse gases), it seems clear that we are at least contributing to it. It would be smart to scale back, and do it dramatically: what a recent Washington Post editorial called "buying insurance." "It's worth paying to limit carbon emissions now,” the authors note, "in case the more pessimistic climate projections are accurate."
But CO2 emissions and carbon sequestration are abstract, theoretical concepts for many people. Polar bears forced to swim in open water and drowning, or dying of malnutrition, are a graphic demonstration that something is out of kilter. They are perhaps the ultimate charismatic megafauna: big, attractive animals that direct people's attention to environmental problems.
The peril of the polar bears may serve as a wake-up call, not only for the current administration, but for the human population at large. It should. "The science is extraordinarily clear: global warming in the Arctic threatens polar bears," Kassie Siegel, an attorney with the Center for Biological Diversity based in Tucson, Arizona, told CNN. "We can't save polar bears without the reduction of greenhouse gases."
We are long overdue for a serious national conversation on the subject of global warming, and our contribution to it. Beyond mere conversation, we need to set specific, tangible, and effective goals, and plans for how to attain them. Listing polar bears as threatened would be a good start. That something must be done is plain: the plight of these Arctic ursines is proof, and the Bush administration clearly knows it.
"They" are polar bears: the biggest, most powerful ursines on the planet. And in a remarkable decision with far-reaching implications, the Bush administration has requested that they be listed as "threatened" under the Endangered Species Act, on the grounds that their sea-ice hunting grounds are shrinking dramatically due to global warming.
The reason for the requested listing was very specific and categorical; other threats -- including the possibility of over-hunting, oil exploration, and pollution -- were explored, but ruled out as major threats to the bears' future well-being. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, an agency of the Department of the Interior, global warming leading to the melting of sea ice is the issue.
Coming from this administration, that admission is startling, if not stunning. If nothing else, it should serve as a shot across the bows of the few remaining flat-earthers who don't believe global warming is a real problem. And it may well place the U.S. government in the position of being required, by its own laws and regulations, to make a genuine effort to reduce carbon emissions from factories, power plants, and motor vehicles: something it has resisted doing for the last six years.
Polar bears are what ecologists call an "indicator species" -- an improbably large "canary in the coal mine," that lets us know when things are getting dangerously out of balance. And they are. Ironically but tellingly, shortly after this announcement came the news that a huge ice-shelf, 43 square miles in area and 3,000 years old, had broken off from Ellesmere Island in the Canadian Arctic. We are clearly approaching, if indeed we are not already in, a crisis. In fact, a recent report by British climate scientists suggests that 2007 may be the warmest year yet. It's not just the polar bears, either: warming temperatures could result in a major die-back of northern boreal forests, releasing still more carbon into the air and exacerbating the problem.
Warming trends have appeared in the earth's past, and it is tempting to dismiss the current situation as yet another of these normal fluctuations. But never before in the past have human beings been pumping so much CO2 into the atmosphere: mostly from burning fossil fuels such as oil and coal, themselves made largely of previously-sequestered carbon, and also from clearing forests, which would otherwise absorb and neutralize carbon.
Whether we are the sole cause of the problem or not (and there is some evidence that we would actually be in a global cool spell, were it not for human-generated greenhouse gases), it seems clear that we are at least contributing to it. It would be smart to scale back, and do it dramatically: what a recent Washington Post editorial called "buying insurance." "It's worth paying to limit carbon emissions now,” the authors note, "in case the more pessimistic climate projections are accurate."
But CO2 emissions and carbon sequestration are abstract, theoretical concepts for many people. Polar bears forced to swim in open water and drowning, or dying of malnutrition, are a graphic demonstration that something is out of kilter. They are perhaps the ultimate charismatic megafauna: big, attractive animals that direct people's attention to environmental problems.
The peril of the polar bears may serve as a wake-up call, not only for the current administration, but for the human population at large. It should. "The science is extraordinarily clear: global warming in the Arctic threatens polar bears," Kassie Siegel, an attorney with the Center for Biological Diversity based in Tucson, Arizona, told CNN. "We can't save polar bears without the reduction of greenhouse gases."
We are long overdue for a serious national conversation on the subject of global warming, and our contribution to it. Beyond mere conversation, we need to set specific, tangible, and effective goals, and plans for how to attain them. Listing polar bears as threatened would be a good start. That something must be done is plain: the plight of these Arctic ursines is proof, and the Bush administration clearly knows it.
Living on the Earth (Column: 1/2/07)
Our children are taught many things, in school and out of it, these days, but with rare exceptions, they're being taught little about how to live on this earth. Oh, sure, they're being taught -- formally and by immersion -- all about how to live in our contemporary techno-industrial society, but that is by no means the same thing.
In fact, our present society does not help us live on the earth; rather, it insulates us from the need to. It helps us to live off of the earth; that is, to exploit and subdue the natural world, to consume resources faster than natural processes can replenish them, but that is something entirely different from living on the earth.
In fact, in many ways, in our climate-controlled buildings and vehicles, our synthetic-fiber clothing, eating industrially-grown and processed food and drinking artificially flavored and sweetened drinks, we are like space aliens on our own planet. Destructive aliens, at that.
We are not the first human culture to exceed the carrying capacity of its environment; many fallen empires can be traced to this recurring human tendency. But we are the first to do so on a global level, and the implications of that are truly frightening. There is an old saying that goes, "if you want to dance, you have to pay the piper." We've been dancing at a dizzying rate in recent decades, and it's starting to look like payment's coming due.
This is reflected in the realization that global stocks of oil and natural gas are not inexhaustible, and are nearing -- if indeed they have not already reached -- the peak of their production, worldwide. Declines will surely follow. It is reflected in worsening weather conditions, melting glaciers, and other indications that the climate is out of whack, and that this is due in large measure to human activities.
It is reflected in phenomena like desertification, extended droughts, crop failures and famine abroad, and increasingly, wars or threats of wars over scarce water and fuel resources. Overpopulation in the developing world is part of the problem. But consumption overpopulation in the developed world, where each individual uses many times the energy used by people elsewhere, is an even bigger contributor to the current crisis.
Although the specifics are different in every case, the root cause seems the same: we have forgotten how to live on the earth, instead of living off of it. It's a lesson we must re-learn. Obviously, we can't become intimate with the entire earth; it's too big. But we can become deeply acquainted with our own particular piece of it: our own bioregion, as it is called. Here are some questions from "A Bioregional Quiz," available online, which can provide a sense of how well you know that portion of the earth on which you live:
Trace the water you drink from precipitation to tap.
From which direction do winter storms usually come in this area?
Where does your garbage go?
How long is the growing season in this area?
Identify five edible plants native to your area.
And here's a bonus question -- consider it extra credit: trace the runoff of rainwater, and the sediments and chemicals it carries, from your downspout or driveway to the Chesapeake Bay.
Now give yourself a grade: 5 right is a 100%; 4 right is 80%, 3 right is 60%, and so on. How well (or otherwise) did you score? If you got three questions or less correct, including the bonus, ask yourself: am I truly living here in Carroll County, or am I just happening to exist here, temporarily? And is that what I really want, for myself and my family? To be a visitor, a stranger, an alien?
Douglas Wood, writing in his book Fawn Island, said it well: “At rock bottom, either we belong here or we don't. Either the smell of crushed pine needles, forest breezes, sweet clover, rain, and moist earth is the smell of home or it is not… Either we identify with this world of tree and star, flower and desert, stone and water and belong to it or not... If not, we are essentially aliens, refugees on our own planet.”
Let's make it our resolution, this New Year, to overcome our alienation from our earthly home: to learn more about the bioregion in which we live, and how to live more lightly and respectfully within it, and on the earth itself. Our planet, and future generations, will thank us.
In fact, our present society does not help us live on the earth; rather, it insulates us from the need to. It helps us to live off of the earth; that is, to exploit and subdue the natural world, to consume resources faster than natural processes can replenish them, but that is something entirely different from living on the earth.
In fact, in many ways, in our climate-controlled buildings and vehicles, our synthetic-fiber clothing, eating industrially-grown and processed food and drinking artificially flavored and sweetened drinks, we are like space aliens on our own planet. Destructive aliens, at that.
We are not the first human culture to exceed the carrying capacity of its environment; many fallen empires can be traced to this recurring human tendency. But we are the first to do so on a global level, and the implications of that are truly frightening. There is an old saying that goes, "if you want to dance, you have to pay the piper." We've been dancing at a dizzying rate in recent decades, and it's starting to look like payment's coming due.
This is reflected in the realization that global stocks of oil and natural gas are not inexhaustible, and are nearing -- if indeed they have not already reached -- the peak of their production, worldwide. Declines will surely follow. It is reflected in worsening weather conditions, melting glaciers, and other indications that the climate is out of whack, and that this is due in large measure to human activities.
It is reflected in phenomena like desertification, extended droughts, crop failures and famine abroad, and increasingly, wars or threats of wars over scarce water and fuel resources. Overpopulation in the developing world is part of the problem. But consumption overpopulation in the developed world, where each individual uses many times the energy used by people elsewhere, is an even bigger contributor to the current crisis.
Although the specifics are different in every case, the root cause seems the same: we have forgotten how to live on the earth, instead of living off of it. It's a lesson we must re-learn. Obviously, we can't become intimate with the entire earth; it's too big. But we can become deeply acquainted with our own particular piece of it: our own bioregion, as it is called. Here are some questions from "A Bioregional Quiz," available online, which can provide a sense of how well you know that portion of the earth on which you live:
Trace the water you drink from precipitation to tap.
From which direction do winter storms usually come in this area?
Where does your garbage go?
How long is the growing season in this area?
Identify five edible plants native to your area.
And here's a bonus question -- consider it extra credit: trace the runoff of rainwater, and the sediments and chemicals it carries, from your downspout or driveway to the Chesapeake Bay.
Now give yourself a grade: 5 right is a 100%; 4 right is 80%, 3 right is 60%, and so on. How well (or otherwise) did you score? If you got three questions or less correct, including the bonus, ask yourself: am I truly living here in Carroll County, or am I just happening to exist here, temporarily? And is that what I really want, for myself and my family? To be a visitor, a stranger, an alien?
Douglas Wood, writing in his book Fawn Island, said it well: “At rock bottom, either we belong here or we don't. Either the smell of crushed pine needles, forest breezes, sweet clover, rain, and moist earth is the smell of home or it is not… Either we identify with this world of tree and star, flower and desert, stone and water and belong to it or not... If not, we are essentially aliens, refugees on our own planet.”
Let's make it our resolution, this New Year, to overcome our alienation from our earthly home: to learn more about the bioregion in which we live, and how to live more lightly and respectfully within it, and on the earth itself. Our planet, and future generations, will thank us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)