Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

“You, not I, are the indifferent killers of the poet’s dreams” – Minotti

We all plan for the future

We all strive to be our very best

We all aspire to live, laugh and love

We all dream of reaching that mountain top

We all wish to have our own “happily ever after”

We all are the indifferent killers of the poet’s dreams

We all see the scars we have carved into the earth

We all know the facts and figures of our actions

We all learn of people struggling to survive

We all discuss the causes and effects

We all ignore, and the earth bleeds

I am not a pessimist nor am I an optimist, I merely am a hopeful realist who is ashamed of his nation, his culture and his own complacency with this life of ease. This blog is not as pretty as the past, nor as clear but I hope the message is conveyed. If not… at least I feel better.

I am not sure when the disease will strike me. I don’t even know what the symptoms will look like. The bacteria could even be at work inside me today. For some, the disease strikes early and for others it attacks when people are in tough situations but sooner or later you will be infected. Despite years of education, the well being of humanity, earth and its resources is replaced with greed for self until the point where self becomes threatened because of the ignorance towards the earth that sustains his own life.

Richmond and the James River Watershed (JRW) is a great example of how the disease infiltrates. We can see throughout history as the JRW is used to sustain life and sustain transport. As man progressed and multiplied he became ignorant of his effects on the earth and his own health. Resources were depleted, chemicals were dumped and the quality of life, while fruitful in an economic sense, was dangerously low. The river no longer even sanitary for Satan, still existed but what was once a clear, clean and thriving with life resource lay stinky and dead. There is a great story I heard from Ralph White which describes how a man finally broke through the City Council’s ignorance and began the river clean up project. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it online but I bet he will share it with us when he comes to visit.

Last fall I went to Virginia Tech to an environmental conference called Powershift which tore through my veil of ignorance about the world’s condition and compelled me be own of the founding members of the Virginia Alliance for a Cleaner Environment (VACE.) This group is a coalition of all 54 universities and colleges in Virginia who are educating, advocating and working alongside national movements such as Quit Coal, GreenPeace, CSCAN, Chesapeake Bay Foundation, Mountain Justice and other groups for a better Virginia. I went to UVA last weekend for a group discussion on our current campaign to work alongside Dominion to support them in a transition to renewable resources. As we went through facts and figures of the damage that has been, is being and will be done to Virginia because of our current rate of consumption, population and ignorance I began to think what am I doing here?

Why do I, as the not completely educated, 100% completely broke college student, seem to be the one of the few people left in this world who see that changes need to be made? I have no political power, no celebrity reputation and very little knowledge of the science and technology that is used for fracking, coal, and oil but I do see the injustice of Dominions monopoly and it’s affect upon small towns, the environment and my own health. Why is it impossible for anyone to make a sacrifice whether it be their time or their wealth for the betterment of the future?

I have the right as a consumer to demand what I want from my supplier but until others stand alongside me, I am merely the extremist, the outcast, and the hippie.

Today, I read an article named “Human use helped shape the James” by Andy Thompson in the Richmond Times Dispatch. I agree with many points that the author made in his article. At the very beginning of his article, he mentioned that he was looking for a book that he would very much like to read: “Falls of the James Atlas” by W.E. Trout III. After many tries to retain the book, he finally found the book at the Fluvanna County Historical Society. The book explains many places of interest from the beginning to the end of the James, the book also put the places of interest into context. At one part of the book, the author mentioned “a mill dam across half the James in that area (the rapids there now are known as Mitchell’s Gut), which shunted water to the mill ‘by damming spaces between the bedrocks with piled blasted stones.’”[1] This simple fact changed Andy’s view of the river completely. He made a conclusion that “James through Richmond, likewise, has a dynamic history of human use that has shaped it, at least in the past 200 years, as much as mother nature.”[2] I agree with Andy completely, learning the history of certain sites has made me appreciate the nature of the sites more. For example, after I learned that Belle Isle was a civil war prisoner camp, I took on a completely different view of it. Many times I hear people disapproving history majors; I think it’s a common misconception that History is just a collection of random facts. I believe that many times spiritual connections with nature, animals, or people are made from the understanding of the history.

In reflecting on my last week, one thing that particularly stuck out to me was a conversation with a dear friend about judgment. She has been deeply troubled and convicted about this judgment of all Greeks/ B-School attendees/general prepsters that attend this institution. It really struck a chord with me because of the realization of my own inner stream of one-way gossip that goes on in my head about these innocent people I pass going to and from class, dhall, the library, and so on. I confess I too often fall into the trap of putting myself above someone because of silly reasons like, “I eat organic.” Or, “I would never spend that much money on a purse,” etc. And I cannot seem to solve this problem. Why is it that we humans have this tendency to want to think we are better than someone else?
Inner battle. It is so easy to see and judge people as the mask that they throw on- the “Kappa girl,” “lax bro,” “frat star”…or “hippie,” instead of the humanity that is their essence underneath the exterior. You name it, every person has a label that is easiest to wear, and what a daily challenge it is to see and love beyond that! I feel like sometimes I’m rehashing an inclusion talk from a high school teacher or something, but this mental hierarchy we create doesn’t go away with “growing up,” I think.
My challenge to you- deep down, where is the identity that is hooked most inextricably to who you are? How does that dictate the way you see other people? The labels I too easily don, feel free to point out and tease me mercilessly about until I crack up too–hippie, earth lodger, academic, vegetarian (leaning), social activist, whatever. All pretty silly to put your whole meaning on, don’t you think?
…Because one day, one sad, horrible day, we will not be in Earth Lodge any more. I may fall in love with red meat. I could get a job working for a big corporation doing stuffy white collar things in a cubicle and love it! Or, one day, I could lose my memory (entirely likely) and what would be the point of academia then? If I could remember anything, I would want it to be the God and people I love, not the books I have read, the absurdly long papers I’ve written, or the silly stereotypes I’ve put on myself and others.
So go talk to that guy in the ridiculous pink khakis! Or that girl whose dad is clearly Ralph Lauren…you never know how wonderful a person is until you’ve read more than a few chapters in their way too fancy looking book of life.

I wouldn’t be a true borderline vegan activist without getting a bit preachy at some point, so here goes. You have been warned.

I have been loving the beautiful 70 degree days at the end of January just as much as everyone else. My inner cynic can’t help but burst my bubble and point out how unnatural the weather has been lately and I should be very concerned about the state of the planet right now. My train of thought lead me to consider ways in which every person can reduce their impact on the environment. The first thing I thought of was my annoyance when people use the elevator in Lakeview when they have no good reason to do so; they are not carrying anything or crippled, just lazy. It is unethical to use the elevator when it is unnecessary.

These thoughts about the environment and ethics and the planet synthesized into a desire to educate people about how they can both help the environment, and be more ethical with one simple action.

-Warning.- From here on out, there is a chance you will hate my opinions.

Stop eating so much meat and dairy if you truly care about the planet. Its all well and fine to get a more efficient car and use fluorescent lightbulbs but if you really want to make a change then please reduce your meat and dairy consumption. “According to Environmental Defense, if every American skipped one meal of chicken per week and substituted vegetarian foods instead, the carbon dioxide savings would be the same as taking more than half a million cars off U.S. roads” (1).

If that isn’t enough, consider these facts:
“Researchers at the University of Chicago concluded that switching from a standard American diet to a vegan diet is more effective in the fight against global warming than switching from a standard American car to a hybrid” (2).
“Livestock production is responsible for 70% of  Amazon deforestation” (3).
And if human rights is your thing:
“Globally, we feed 756 million tons of grain to farmed animals. As Princeton bioethicist Peter Singer notes in his new book, if we fed that grain to the 1.4 billion people who are living in abject poverty, each of them would be provided more than half a ton of grain, or about 3 pounds of grain/day — that’s twice the grain they would need to survive. And that doesn’t even include the 225 million tons of soy that are produced every year, almost all of which is fed to farmed animals” (2).

There are many more statistics I can put in, but my basic point is that by at least reducing your meat consumption, you will be doing the planet a favor.

Sources:
1) http://www.peta.org/issues/animals-used-for-food/meat-and-environment.aspx
2) http://www.alternet.org/environment/134650/the_startling_effects/
3) http://www.vegsoc.org/page.aspx?pid=520

For the beauty of the planet.

The song is Don’t Panic by Coldplay

For the content of this post.One of my favorite punk bands – Rise Against. The song is Ready to Fall

By the way, two of the band members are vegetarian and the other two are vegan. Awesome.
This is the quote at the end of the video in case you missed it.
“Every action has a reaction. We’ve got one planet. One chance.” – Tim McIlrath of Rise Against

If all of this has inspired you to explore further check these documentaries and this book out. If you hate this post then this goes doubly for you.

http://www.forksoverknives.com/

http://www.thecovemovie.com/

http://thechinastudy.com/

And one more for good measure because I am sure it sounds like I am doing this. And it is a good song.

The High Road by Broken Bells

Skip your class tomorrow. Seriously, you don’t want to go; I don’t want you to go. Besides, what has learning how to calculate standard error or Diels-Alder ever personally done for you? Simply schemes we memorize with the hope of seeing high marks on the next exam, a means to an intangible end. Leave your cell phone and laptop in the dorm. Check your fears and apprehensions at the door; trust me they’ll still be there when you get back. No one wants to take those anyway.

So take your heaviest boots out of the closet, the ones inscribed with all your anxieties, brush off the settled dust, and step into them. I’m sure they’ll be uncomfortable at first but soon you’ll find that you actually enjoy their feeling; there is something metaphorically satisfying about treading all over your angst.

Proceed out the door and down the street. Where you go from here is up to you and your boots; there is nothing to tie you back to the warmth of the dorm room. Get in a car, without a map, and drive or be driven. To where? Where would make you happy? Only Forty-eight short hours exist before they send out the dogs.

Adopt a policy of yes; buy a stranger’s lunch. Anything that makes you nervous, do. Nobody knows who you are, and they’ll doubtfully see you again after your intrusion into their routine lives, so you have nothing to lose by being sociable. Become like those animals mocking our methodical lives—shed any objections and obligations. Once you stop listening to your own subconscious and simply subsist the whole world will open up and the multitude of imperfections make themselves known. Notice how perfect they are! Each person is flecked with their own individuality yet yearns for the same goal, to love and to be loved, let’s hope that is enough.

Do not focus on material things. Do not worry about that test you missed today. Do not love what is intangible, that promise of a brighter future if we follow all the right rules. Do not adore what is impossible; nothing hinders a heart full of life.

Hit rock bottom and discover that friendship, warmth, and happiness are all that is needed to sustain you. Become so far removed from your old self that they become unrecognizable. True change comes from within those who have the least. It is time we hasten that decline.

Search for love, search for life, and enjoy all the small things along the way.

Bonus points: convince a friend to come along with you and your heavy boots.

It is difficult to be alone. It is more difficult to become alone. In order to be alone, you have to remove yourself from people, which is what we saw Chris do in Into the Wild. He decides to forsake his family, his friends, his culture, his lifestyle, almost everything just to go be alone in the woods. He tests his independence by cutting himself off from all that is somewhat dependable. But think about it, the very fact that you are alive right now depended (and even still depends) upon someone else deciding to take care of you, willing you to live from the beginning.

We aren’t meant to be alone. It isn’t good for us to be alone. That’s why we long to have relationships with people. We can be alone and be happy, because you only cut yourself off from people is if you are determined it will bring you happiness. But it seems to me that the only real happiness I’ve felt is when I have been satisfied with where I am and have been able to overcome thinking about myself in order to enjoy the presence of others.

This year has been a challenging one. I lost a lot of things that I depended upon to bring me happiness over the summer and spent a lot of time being upset about it. I kept thinking about how sad I was and how I wanted all those things back and thought that I could never
be happy again without them. (Rather dramatic, I KNOW!). I tried, and succeeded in being moderately happy at times, but it never lasted because I didn’t want to let others partake in that happiness. I tried to hoard it for myself. The only way for me to get over my thinking about myself and my own sadness, was to think about other people, specifically the people I live with. After a certain
point, meaning the camping trip we took, I realized that I was hiding myself from other people. I had been removing myself from the community I had purposefully pursued the semester before. Everyone around me had such vision for their lives, such compassion for one-another, such openness and I hadn’t even tried to find it out. It was selfish of me and I’m sorry for it.

I’ve realized that the greatest part of my joy comes from taking my mind off enjoying the people around me. Alone, I can only wallow in my shortcomings and broken dreams. When I’m with others, I don’t have time to think about the past and the future, only my present happiness. I have heard a lot of people say that they want to “get away” and “just enjoy creation”. People are part of that creation. The world wouldn’t be complete without people in it. This year of my life wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t have Earth Lodge. I am so thankful that I wasn’t able to cut myself off completely from my friends because then I wouldn’t be able to appreciate the great and beautiful things that are happening in and through their lives. So I wholeheartedly agree with the note in Chris McCandless’ book. Happiness is only real when shared.

Random add-ons

*Every time I look at the night sky I think about something I once read: “Lift your eyes to the heavens, who has created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls them each by name”. I also think of this verse when I consider the people in my
life. I wonder at where who they are and where they come from. Each one is different and each one has a specific name to be called by.*

**I saw two bald eagles flying over the lake together earlier this week. They were either very in love or very territorial, but either way it was beautiful and I got overly excited and started yelling to my friend Joell who was sitting approximately 5 inches away. I didn’t believe you TLB when you said that we had them in this area. Now I do….**

Each summer my family spends a week on the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, a 70-mile stretch of barrier islands along the coast of North Carolina.  The islands are so narrow that you can see and hear the Atlantic Ocean swelling through the curves of the sand dunes and turn 180 degrees on the spot to look at Pamlico Sound, which spans the gap between the islands and the mainland.

The beaches are broad and clean and unencumbered.  The hardy residents have done a fantastic job of keeping commercialization off the islands and nearly all of the businesses, restaurants, grocery stores, and even gas stations are locally owned and operated.  Within the towns, everything is within biking or walking distance.  The elaborately-porched cottages stand high on stilts, armored against the eastern wind by dark wooden shingles.  It’s simple, unrefined, and real—the people who come here come for the sea and nothing more, because nothing more is there and nothing more needs to be.

Every facet of island life is defined by the sea.  Its presence is constant and constantly influential.  It’s the vibrating, swirling, crashing force which has called, seductively, to each and every salty soul suspended in its grasp on the narrow shore.  Its call is so strong, in fact, that it can routinely swallow up the rickety haven its disciples have created on the narrow shore and still maintain its hold.  With every major storm, the Atlantic Ocean overtakes the dunes and sends homes, boats, businesses, and roads spilling into the Sound.  As the storms clear, the devoted disciples faithfully emerge to rebuild their paper houses and happily await the next surge.

We’re helpless, humans.  We like to think of ourselves as serene masters of this world, creating stunning technologies and barreling through landscapes with the bloated delusion that our superficial purposes matter, that our impacts matter and will last.  But the truth is that the only true masters are the forces of nature and marvel or degrade as we might, we are subject to their whims.  As gracious inferiors, the most we can do is live mindful of this fact and make every effort to respect, acknowledge, and enjoy our role in the balance.

Enjoying time in Hatteras necessitates an awareness of the temporality of the stark human comforts stationed there and a gradual, meditative refusal to depend on them.  The same is true in any case of growing close to an environment.  We must accept the supremacy of the natural world and learn to cede our control.  Our time here is short, but we’re blessed to bear witness to the truly divine eternal forces ebbing and flowing across and inside the earth.  These eternal forces bewitch us, baffle us, and challenge us but time after time, when they call, we answer.

Here’s an old favorite for the week, pretty fitting I think. 

I encourage anyone and everyone to check out the artist, Andrew Bird.

One of my simple pleasures is taking a walk at night and gazing at the night sky. On clear nights I take the long path back along the lake to my dorm just to look up and lose myself. I love staring at a large full moon and identifying visible planets, and the few constellations I know. When I was little I viewed the night sky as a giant black blanket pinpricked with tiny holes of light. The moon was like a large flashlight that would slowly shine and recharge over the course of the month. I grew up in a village 20 miles outside New York City and I believe that the location I grew up in has definitely encouraged my fascination for the stars. It is not because I can see the thousands of stars or the band of the Milky Way, but the lack thereof. It was a real treat to see more stars, wish upon a shooting star, or watch a satellite glide overhead. Often times, the night sky at UR reminds me of home because on any given night I can only make out a few dozen stars. Living 5 miles from the downtown lights of Richmond is relatively equal to the light pollution of NYC and my own chunk of suburbia.

I feel that no matter where I travel I cannot escape the confines of light pollution. Even hiking and camping near my home I could not seem to get away. My first experience with a true starry night sky was when I visited Arizona. It seemed unreal and made me ponder. Was this the same sky people used to gaze at before the advent of electricity? Can I see shooting stars other than during the Perseids and Leonids? A vivid memory of my stargazing was when a friend said sarcastically “Yeah, those things there are called stars.”

It is saddening how light pollution has affected the stargazer’s perfect night, going so far as to encompass the James River skyline which I assumed would have been clearer. Celeste had a small birthday bonfire at Pony Pasture last month. Huddling close to the fire as it hailed, I could see two distinct glows. To left lay the aura of UR and to my right was the effulgence of downtown Richmond. I could make out the waning moon and maybe a dozen stars that night. Not even the distinctive Orion’s belt was visible. It amazed me just how bright UR’s lights really are and how much our school illuminates the night sky. It’s fascinating the amount of light people actually produce in Richmond, the U.S., and throughout the world. I truly believe that Earth Hour should become more popular throughout the U.S. so that everyone can see that inspiring Arizona night sky I once saw. One hour without the lights can reduce the amount of energy used. It can also provide simple stargazers a brief chance to view a naturally bright night sky. Earth Hour this year is March 31 from 8:30-9:30pm! I hope that many Richmonders will turn off their lights and get outside. If you want to find me that Saturday night, just look for the kid near the lake looking at the sky.

Earth Hour 2012: www.earthhour.org/

Earth at night: http://www.google.com/imgres?start=99&num=10&um=1&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1300&bih=699&tbm=isch&tbnid=ANaFbJammmGIfM:&imgrefurl=http://energy.gov/articles/make-locally-and-sell-globally&docid=P0mGi9O34x-IaM&imgurl=http://energy.gov/sites/prod/files/styles/article_hero/public/World_at_night_hero.jpg&w=745&h=373&ei=LAwqT_2fKsfo0QHN4pztCg&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=282&sig=113886785661022272995&sqi=2&page=6&tbnh=98&tbnw=195&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:20,s:99&tx=112&ty=43

Recently I have been thinking a lot about how young the United States is. As the first permanent settlement (Jamestown) was established a mere 405 years ago, we tend to forget that many different groups of indigenous people belonged to this land long before us. Though much has happened to drastically alter the world since the Europeans and Native Americans first made contact, four centuries is a relatively brief span of time to inhabit a land. I am currently taking a course called “Indigenous Film of North America,” which, in conjunction with Geography of the James, has encouraged me to think a great deal more about the heritage of the state and continent that I consider home, and the ways that we disrupt and interact with our environment. I keep wondering about the status of the Native Americans in our region currently and what their relationship to the area is now that four hundred years have separated them from complete autonomy over the land. And how can it be that we, as Americans, consider our large portion of this continent to be our home—key to our national identity—and yet do not often consider the indigenous peoples who lived here for thousands of years before our arrival? When there is “evidence of human activity that dates back at least 17,000 years,” how can we justify a 405-year claim? From discussing Native American history in class and reading online specifically about those native to Virginia, I have found a lot of information about their history, from the pre-contact period (10,000 BCE to 1607) to their fight for recognition (1980 to present). As the James River has always had such a huge impact on the peoples of Virginia, I am finding that developing my knowledge of the indigenous people and their relationship to their environment is particularly relevant for this class.

Here’s a link to an interesting map of the area around Jamestown. Click the Modern River Names tab and the Modern Cities to get some perspective. Also, check out the respective regions of the Indian tribes!

http://www.virtualjamestown.org/smith_voyages/jsmith_voyages.html

And here’s a great website if you’re interested in a brief overview of the history and present status of Native Americans:

http://virginiaindians.pwnet.org/index.php