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AUGUST 2012
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NEWSLETTER: Photo by August Jensen
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FROM THE EDITOR
You probably heard of the wildfires we had in Colorado earlier this summer. Stoked by hot, dry weather (the warmest spring on record, they say) and a build-up of fuels from the pine-beetle infestation the past few years, they burned many thousands of acres of wildlands and destroyed many homes. Other parts of the country had similar fires, as well. Many of us are feeling the painful devastation of the fires and their rippling effects on the ecosystem, wildlife, |
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homes, and families as well as alarm at the heat records being broken over and over again. On the other hand, my friends in Seattle tell me the weather has been unusually wet and cool, and I've been in touch with my friend in Florida where there are serious floods and tornadoes. Heat, drought, floods, winds ... as the climate scientists have been warning us, the weather is getting more variable and more extreme!
Now, here I sit, trying to let this heat into my body. I have this idea that if I can take it in deeply enough and let it out slowly six months from now, the cold of next winter will not be as intense. Which reminds me that I did the same thing last winter, trying to let in the cold, knowing that this summer heat would be just a half-a-turn around the sun. Here, now, the snow is so cold it creaks, my cheeks are freezing, and my body relaxes. Ahh.
This little mental game reminds me that the circle of life is always whole. We focus here or there, mouse-like, as we do in summer. Come fall, we dig deep into the dark places, through muck with our bare hands and tears. Then, winter's here and we clean up, straighten ourselves, and look around to see who else needs a hand. And with the arrival of spring, we get to step back and catch a glimpse of the big picture. ... Just before we feel our bodies once again with their own hot summer aliveness.
We bring you this Summer 2012 School of Lost Borders newsletter with trust in the turning of your life. May you be whole.
With best wishes,
John Davis
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The Weather
From the book, The Four Shields: by Foster and Little, available at Lost Borders Press
For centuries, poets and artists have tracked the dimensions of human weather with metaphorical anemometers and vanes. Reactive emotions are hot; the mind is cold; the feelings are dark; the spirit is bright. In the summer of childhood, conditions are optimal for growth; the barometer reads "high/" In the winter of adulthood, life is hard, suffering great; the barometer has fallen to "low." The "fall" from high to low is chronological, a veering off into the dark regions of change. Sooner or later, the winds are buoyed by the rising spirits of spring. The body is renewed. Fair weather comes again. But not for long. Nothing changes so much as the weather. And always, the hurricanes, the droughts, the floods, the thunderstorms, the twisters, the invisible radiations of happenstance, riding the jet streams of energy through the skies, continents, and oceanic currents of human sentience - the winds of human self-thus descending and rising between hot and high, and cold and low, like a hawk gyring through shifting thermal regions of brightness and shadow.
We are not only profoundly dependent on "the weather," but the weather is profoundly dependent on us. Together with all the other species that exist in this particular mixture of gasses and electromagnetic radiations called "earth's atmosphere," we co-create the weather, and so insure our common survival. Without all of us there would be no weather. Without weather, we would not be. How rich the idea! That we are, in fact, weather systems whose purpose is to maintain the survival cycle of summer, fall, winter, and spring.
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Before the Dawn
by
Em North When the Friend visits No matter which robes are worn We touch the ankle Head going down How can so much grief flow Between the rocks of Anger and blame? This one Speaks endlessly In the desperate hours before the dawn When the Friend visits No matter which robes are worn, We reach up and out Expanding beyond any speech How can so much Oneness flow Between the rocks of Delight and warmth? This one does not speak at all In the holy hours before the dawn When the Friend visits No matter which robes are worn We embody the touch Swift or soft Fearful, ecstatic or strong Standing in the Garden of life and death We long only to meet you At the doorway before the dawn. |
Mourning and forgiveness on a vision fast:
An excerpt from a story by Karen Rempel
The spring after my father died in 2000, my family held a ceremony to scatter my father's ashes on the Horsefly River. I was very moved that my mother and four siblings were each willing to participate in the nature ceremony that I suggested, and each brought their own unique contribution to add to the ceremony. We sang Amazing Grace on the hillside overlooking my mother's ranch and then walked single-file to the river, each holding a candle. We released my father's ashes into the river and poured in some of his favorite vodka. The candles bobbed on the water, floating with the current until one by one they were extinguished.
But mourning a parent can be a long process, and when I set out to do my second vision fast, in 2006, I still had many unresolved feelings about my father and our relationship. I was still mourning him and seeking some kind of peace that eluded me.
My father was not on my mind as I prepared for the vision fast. A few days before leaving, I had wrenched my shoulder while fooling around on the monkey bars at the park near my childhood home, and I was in severe pain as the trip began. It seemed the purpose of the trip for me was learning to accept feeling helpless and letting others help me. When we arrived at the slick rock base-camp in the high mountain desert, I couldn't carry my pack or set up my tarp. For someone who is fiercely independent and likes to do everything herself, this was very difficult! The apprentice helped me set up my tarp, and during the days of preparation for the solo, I received incredible support from the entire group.
I spent the first few days of my solo laying in the sun, fully clothed and with every inch of my body covered in cloth or mosquito netting to keep out the biting gnats. As I lay there, helpless, and baked, my soul was infused with the warm sun, the delicate precious desert flowers, the sound of distant drumming at dusk, the constant drone of gnats. Letting myself rest and be, a vision of a ceremony for my father began to take shape. Halfway through the third day, I knew what I needed to do...
Here is the lInk to the full story, "A Father's Forgiveness,"
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Rites of Passage Summit, April 2012, Oakland California
A report from Gigi Coyle
 This spring a number of organizations and individuals were invited to a conference on Rites of Passage for Young People organized by Frederick Marx. I attended as a representative/member/leader/yelder of the School of Lost Border's Youth Program, Beyond Boundaries, and the Ojai Foundation. I loved the fact that the group respected and followed the energy without feeling a need to make something happen. Everyone participated fully, and if nothing more ever happens, I believe the people were served. Frederick will make an even better film, and the ripples will go out through all the projects and programs. At the same time, a small follow-up group will conference together and explore next steps that may include a conference next year, a research collection, and sharing common rites of passage guidelines and language. We will see how the reality of an alliance between us and others in this work might serve. The challenge of getting anywhere in depth within two days was palpable, yet the depth was felt viscerally in all the people - a great group - embodying hope for this work continuing to grow and be passed on. There was a great deal of diversity in the group. Frederick and all involved are to be commended. While no one attempted to put all rites of passage work in one box, the commitment to some essential ingredients seemed understood and shared. There was equal respect for old timers and young ones, shorter and longer programs, inner city work and the wilderness connection. One of the highlights for me might best be described as a continual truth-speaking and balanced experience present in the room. To my delight, the discourse became mostly "YES, AND" rather than "BUT." Just a few examples of these "YES, AND" insights: All young people need rites of passage, even the ones from wealth- often upper and middle class dysfunctional families can be overlooked and forgotten when we are focused on youth at risk... AND, we need remember that access to ROP in our culture still remains limited and often defined by class, color, and sex. We must focus on the idea of all being youth at risk. The connection with nature, our inherent lineage as part of nature, our realization of earth as our community, must be remembered and awakened... AND, simultaneously, we need to have meaningful rites in the inner city and in places where asphalt dominates and know we are all under the same moon. The importance of having incorporation as a part of every program and rites of passage as a part of every community... AND, many will not have a community to return to, many will be ready and need to be supported to find and make new community wherever they are. It is up to us to encourage all of it , with good words and community building skills, and remind them this is a beginning of a good whole experience that can be co-created again and again throughout their lives. To keep the youth paramount in our hearts, we had three wonderful street performers sing and dance for us Saturday evening only to awaken to a murder outside of our hotel Sunday morning. How to hold the paradoxical truth that everything is perfect and whole as it is AND that we need change now? How to honor the blessing AND not lose sight of what's missing. How to do what we do 100 percent AND not forget it does not all depend on us because we are part of something much bigger? How to move with intention and purpose AND surrender into the unknown? This meeting was a beautiful reminder of why we all do this work, and the people in the room were wonderful mirrors - all ages together co-creating the future: a village of youngers, middlers and elders. May it continue . With gratitude, GG |
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Anouncements
Three Creeks Heron House: Please look to the Resources page on the School's website to see a new slide show on the whole story of the making of the Heron House council hut ... start to finish. Please contact us if you would ever like to use it for some meeting, greeting or ceremony or to help out on the next Three Creeks community project .
Gigi, gigicoyle@earthlink.net
Wilderness Therapy Symposium, September 21 - 23, 2012, Boulder, CO
The School of Lost Borders will again have a presence at the Wilderness Therapy Symposium. This is an important gathering of professionals and others interested in the broad field of wilderness therapy, rites of passage, field-based ecotherapy, and the like. Ruth Wharton and John Davis, SOLB staff members, will present a day-long workshop on "The Bare Bones of Wilderness Rites of Passage," and John will present a shorter workshop on research findings on the benefits of nature experiences. In the past, our workshops have been well attended and well received, and we feel this is an important service to this field. If you have interest in attending the Symposium, please go to http://obhic.com/symposium/about.html for information.
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My friends always say, "You better be careful of what you ask for." Well then, in the spirit of Saint Jerome, I ask, "Strip me bare." I want to see beyond these blurry eyes. I know this is a foolish request. A presumptuous one too. So, I'll be foolish and presumptuous. In truth, I don't even know I am asking. I'll just brace myself, and hope that the stripping is not totally unbearable.
~ Betsy Perluss
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