Samsara & Nirvana in San Francisco

I'm in San Francisco for a week, taking a break from the winter wonderland that is Canada. Its a harsh climate for this tropical antipodean born human. A primal hunger for Vitamin D and stimulation drove me to take this break from my first full snowy winter!

First shock : The entire North American continent is NOT under snow. Greg's place (where i'm staying) has a GARDEN out back with gorgeous weeds that drew me out like Triffids 10 seconds after arrival. all i wanted to do was get my hands on them. Being in snow and ice everyday, it didn't dawn on me that there are places not so far from Canada that AREN"T!

Second shock : All sorts of my favourite indulgent things endow the city - things i don't get in Cranbrook. Dim Sum! Indian Food! Contact Improvisation, Yoga, Seasides, Cheap chinese foot massages! Broadway! Wierd arty performances! Vintagely fashionable gender benders, funky thrift stores....

Third shock : I don't want to move back to a city, despite the 'trappings' of civilisation. Yoga? Indian Food? Pretty People? So what?? Cities seem so chock full, yet empty. Leah summed it up well last night over tempura soba. Cities are crowded, landscapes are brimming over, people are in close proximity, but, there is such distance between people. In the countryside however, there more space, wild open landscapes, yet, somehow, a closer connection between people.

I'm starting to think that maybe relationships in the city sometimes give the impression of depth and meaning - new age, educated, progressive city slickers know how to talk the talk of emotions and feelings, psychology, liberal politics and to 'be in the now'. People in the country on the other hand might use less words but somehow they know how to BE more authentically...more research and observation required!!

Fourth Shock : Samsara is Suffering, remember? On first appearance, San Fran seems like the realm of the Gods. One can run from one indulgence to the next. However, to use the traditional Buddhist metaphors of the states of being we find ourselves in, the Hungry Ghost and Hell Realms are very visible here too. Cycling round the city i found myself in very pained neighborhoods full of people on drugs, the homeless, destitute, but more than anything material, in such states of suffering. I felt the pain in my body, fear arose. Seeing such extreme states manifesting clearly in districts such as the Tenderloin, or even the violent memories floating through touristy Alcrataz Prison, have helped me recognise the more subtle hell states within my own being - The "tenderloin" of San Francisco also arises in me and i presume in all of beings, whether consciously or not.

As the Buddha tried to tell us, Samsara and Nirvana are one. Suffering is ripe, it is the nature of the world, as is infinite compassionate bliss - ain't that the lesson of the lifetime!!??

Our first summer - Karma Yoga

An excerpt from A SUMMER OF KARMA YOGA AT CLEAR SKY, by Linda Hochstetler.
Linda is Clear Sky's Farm Committee Manager
The full article was published in the Naked Alaya Newsletter - November 2009.

This summer was filled with farming and gardening projects from sun-up to sun-down and often on into the evening. We built a composter to accommodate the new Humanure additions, and tackled endless weeding. I joined in the building project training which produced a garden shed in record time, thanks to 25 people working flat-out for two days. I also assisted Adrian in cooking treats and meals for ravenous builders and gardeners.

As the Saskatoon berries ripened, I wrestled approval from the public health department to sell our jams and jellies at the Cranbrook Farmer’s Market. With our certificate in hand we cranked into production. Every available person picked berries or learned the art of making jams, jellies, and pies. We developed our flagship recipes – Saskatoon berry chutney and an organic low-sugar Saskatoon berry/rhubarb jam. Every conversation I had for the next three weeks CENTERED AROUND Saskatoon berries. They even intruded into my meditations! I can still hear David asking for more Saskatoon juice. We experienced the elation of taking our products to the Cranbrook Farmer’s Market and bringing home an average of $350 every Saturday. Imagine! We had found a way to use free, wild fruit on the property to benefit Clear Sky as well as jam aficionados.

Meanwhile, in the field and Gaia Garden, three large plots produced the best-tasting green beans and peas, not to mention scrumptious raspberries. We improved on the 100 mile diet plan, and were enjoying instead our 100 footstep produce plan! The potatoes were still in the fields as I left, but it looked like they would yield a bumper crop. We ate mounds of spinach, arugula, and lettuce salads all summer, with enough left to sell at the farmers market. We didn’t come close to producing enough vegetables to feed the gang at dinner each night, but we did do an amazing job of beginning to feed ourselves and preparing the fields to produce more next year. It delights me to know that we are well on the way to providing our own food, especially if we ever face a crises in years to come. It thrilled me to see everyone fall in love with our home grown produce and guard it so well, as if every raspberry was a jewel and every bean a gem.

In spite of intense karma yoga, I found time to immerse myself in the powerful wongkurs offered by Sensei each Saturday throughout the summer.

The rest of August offered an intense group experience with nearly daily committee meetings and plenty of productive conflict and confrontation. Luckily there were always plenty of hugs and Saskatoon berry cordials to go around to help smooth the path through difficult discussions. Many evenings ended close to midnight following informal farm committee meetings to reshuffle priorities and juggle competing needs to mulch, weed, and deal with berries. I’m sure I drove other karma yoginis crazy with my rebelliousness and independent impulsiveness. I’d been warned that karma yoga work can be intense and can bring up lots of conflict. Still, I was pleasantly surprised with how well we all got along. Perhaps keeping the purpose of spiritual awakening first and foremost in our thoughts and actions was what helped us in this regard. I made a final promise to stay connected throughout the year and to help out with some of the on-going Clear Sky projects.

My karma yoga experience reminded me of the importance of real life awareness. It doesn’t end when you get up off the cushion, but continues into every aspect of our daily lives. And having experienced awareness, it is nearly impossible to go back to old selfish patterns and to pretend we live in a world of our own.

On Sparking Gaia / Cara

I haven't written here for a while. I kept telling myself that I should but I couldn't think of anything to say. I sunk lethargically into a dull mind, spaced out mind. I lost the urge to see and to share the wonder of the miraculous mundane. Sometimes, I lose my will to spark gaia. Do you?

Spark gaia?

Yes. To alert and enliven the planet with a crash, lightning cymbals. To flip the switch of passion that lies waiting forgotten in every belly. The spark that will open our eyes, allow us to see our wounds, and then take actions to heal, change, see, transcend. Spark gaia, wake up gaia!....t0 burn passionately with life! fire under foot, crows pulling at your hair.

I guess this notion of sparking gaia might apply to the planet, in that theres troubling times ahead, and we need change NOW. but i guess at a personal level, "spark cara" is what I really want. I want the energy and the will to become the rumbling of my atoms. I am silently wishing there was a spark that would set me alive forever. that i would be free, energetic and of true service. But no... there doesn't seem to be a magic pill!= I am realising that to spark gaia, I have to will it so every single moment.

Spark. Spark!

ss..pp aarrk!

So...Does the same principle apply to our planet then? To our imploding Gaia ship earth? How do we make her healthy again? Or more, how do we learn to be stewards of the planet again? Probably, we have to want to be stewards to be stewards.

The Grunting Good In Us All

Grunt grunt go go! I am stoked like cherry flame testosterone pride! I drove a tractor!!

Now, it was no monster, it was a dear John Deere, green and cute. It had a broken seat so I had to sit, ramrod butt, spine straight up and down. And a manly metallic spine at that. There were four gears which shift clunky. I was daring and even climbed to 3rd gear on the home stretch! It rumbled and puffed like the magic dragon, grunting out smokey goodness as it chugged along. I was the heroic cowgirl, minus a horse, straight backed, upright, high in the air. My noble task was to transport the household rubbish bags to the burning pile out back of the barn. It was a glamourous enterprise, especially when the bags kept falling off! oh boy were those levers fun. Big teeth UP, big mouth OPEN, big arm down, mind the bum as you turn the corner.

I am also realising how USEFUL tractors are...and am really asking how it is possible to grow organically, fertilising by hand with mulches etc, on a scale that is large enough to be economically viable. I spoke with a young farmer in BC about this tonight, and he says he has struggled with that question too - sure, if 90% of our population grew food, we could grow on small scales very efficiently. However, with 4-5% of the population trying to feed the rest of us, it seems we may NEED to use some of the methods of agribusiness -namely tractors, non-mulch fertilisers. Its all very well making your own compost for your garden, but how about for 10 acres of land? I'm beginning to see why farmers use chemical fertilisers. The farmer here has also challenged my understanding of 'organic' - organic Bat poo fertilisers may be flown half way round the world - is that good? Organic is getting old, 'carbon footprint' and food miles are in, dude. How far does your food travel?

I have also nourished my inner mother egg - THREE times I have gathered duck eggs! I am learning the round white art of tiptoeing among the offerings sprawled around the barn. The ducks bury some of them deep, and I feel their eyes watching me, hoping hoping that I will miss their latest hiding place. Of course, they get the last laugh as I have to scrape off compacted shit and woodshavings from their buried treasures. I imagine the Quack Ringleaders are the culprits for those few hidden ones. They're the ones that lead the otherwise rather contented ducks into fearful chaos at my every move. The George Bushes of ducks? She's either with us, or against us, and she's definately not a duck! I keep my arms down, walk slowly, while entertaining with mantras and singsong. They lay about one a day each.

I am also proud to report that I have winter sandpaper lips! This is a rare occurance for one with a gentrified upbringing! Not to mention woodblock hands and the immovable dirt under my nails. mmmm...yummmy. It can be as cold as -15 C at night. I have to revert to all night electric heating sucking me dry! Anyone want a kiss?

Well, you guys are all to far away, but Paws and Liam might give me one. Thats them below in the Greenhouse. (photo as you requested John!)

From winter apprenticeship 2008/9, Edmonton AB

Ladies and Gentlemen, its Farm Time!

A day goes FAST on this farm. Its probably the case on all farms, boy are these folks hard working! However, when I review what I actually did in 7 hours of physical activity, it seems scarily little! every thing is s..l o..w...e...r. I feel like I've upgraded my world view software! This time its 3D, big, and heavy! I'm a girl used to typing at brain speed and endless thinking. This change to using my body to DO STUFF in the heavy chunky relative world of large objects just seems ...slower. Slower than my usual ideas that never get done! I feel like I'm actually doing SOMETHING for the first time in my life. I feel like I've been living in my head and daydreams until now. This is solid stuff baby.

Time ticks as I lift the next heavy basket of beets or carrots or duck legs to their new positions in cars, fridges, cutting tables or shelves. Time ticks as we roll up 300metres of heavy duty irrigation piping for the winter. Tick Tock says the clock as breakfasts, lunches and dinners comes round, fuel in for energy out. It takes a couple of hours to dig up four baskets of beets or turnips.

I had breakfast with the family and the 9 birds, 3 dogs and 3 cats all in the kitchen. I had the privlege of being chosen by one parrot as a shoulder roost and feeder of sunflower seeds from my own muesli. After that, in my day of work, I did two things, neither completed, but both well attempted. I started at the picnic table, aka lowtech vege sorter. I cut the heads of the rainbow beets I'd pulled yesterday. They are so called 'heritage varieties' with all sorts of interesting colours. It makes them a mint more money, branding this family farm the superstars of the Edmonton local vege fiefdom. So I chopped beets relentlessly and left a giant mound of leaf carcasses in my wake. The dark red beet stems look particularly murderous. Along with the carnage I proudly birthed fresh baskets of clean cut mohawk beet-nicks, all looking particularly naked. They are destined for storage bins in a slightly too warm barn room (the next refrigeration project will cost $9000)...and sniff sniff...they may rot before we can sort and sell them. I'm learning there is a lot more behind farming than first appearances. $$$$ is required to do it well!

I was really windy and I'd suited up in my Salvation Army winter overalls. Bbbrrr... I was guiltily and gleefully listening to my ipodcasts about fungi mycellium saving the world when I think I hear sounds... Its around 11 and I looked up...I heard human man sounds wafting over. Whats Mr Farmer up to I wondered... I drop my scissors and am pulled like the hypnotised victim in a horror movie, to the giant...humongous...wood shavings mound!

Wood shavings used in the duck barns had been delivered in a huge truck the day before. Our very own yellow sahara sand pyramid out in the middle of Alberta. Its all fine and dandy when its calm out...but oh boy..the wind came today. So anyway I got to the woodpile and found farmer Hercules fighting a huge battle. He's trying to keep the tarp on the blowing pile. He's hurling 50kg turkey cages to hold the sheet down. He's a big guy, but his technique for super human strength is to yell like those American gladiator wrestler hunks on TV. Pretty incredible. And today he was yelling like a bear A LOT. So in this wind I run to the pile and throw my body onto the corner he gives me! It was a violent snow storm of wood dust that stuck to my eyeballs and gagged in my throat. In all the activity all I could think about was whether I would suffocate in it, or fall off the mound cos I couldn't see. I imagined my eyes full clogged with the ghastly stuff. But we kept fighting. The tarp kept coming off. We kept fighting. He even got the tractor to dump the turkey trays on as high as he could. I mean, come on, it was just WOOD DUST, but it felt like gold going down the toilet. Or a fire in the village! My body said EMERGENCY! Fight! Exhilaration! Joy too! Exhaustion too! Eventually the wind won and we threw in the towel. We let the wind make love to whatever it damn well wanted to, today it had the hots for wood shavings and plastic tarpaulins. The $1000 shavings blew and swirled gleefully away. Maybe half will be gone tomorrow. Now if we had $10,000 we could build a shed JUST FOR woodshavings.

Tonight my eyes are red, theres a few pieces of chopped up trees still hiding beneath my lids, ouch, grumble grumble. I think the forests got their revenge! My karma for using paper!

Written during a 2 month winter apprenticeship at a farm near Edmonton AB