Following the Green Path
reducing harm, being with the suffering, embracing the deep view—these three principles provide a practical and philosophical orientation to the green practice path. Keeping these in mind, we can see how they might guide our steps along the path. But what exactly is that path ? How do we understand what it means for us per- sonally to be on a green path? Is it primarily a matter oflifestyle, or does it involve our family care and livelihoods as well ? How far should we take these green principles? Wrestling with these ques- tions may not be easy, but it is very helpful in determining what we can actually accomplish on the green path in our own lives.
In this chapter I look at stages of development along the green practice path, sharing my observations from working with students, colleagues, and environmentally concerned citizens. Each person experiences green zeal in different ways and to different degrees across his or her life. The green practice path is necessarily very broad, for people are finding many ways to walk this path. One step leads to the next, and then somehow to the next, a journey specific to each person. Walking together on the path with others, the call grows louder and the commitment deepens.
In my introductory class in environmental studies, we invite a number of local environmentalists to panel sessions to tell their stories
and share their current work in the field. The guests range from professionals with years of experience to student peers engaged in campus issues. For their homework the students interview some- one involved in environmental work, asking questions about their experience and motivation. I want young people to hear up close the adventure, the doubt, the twists and turns of how an individual path unfolds. The stories they hear become alluring hooks, encour- aging the young explorers to keep going, to see what lies ahead. They come to see that environmental work is all about people, each person in his or her own way, trying to find a way to respond to their concerns.
In another course, we look at the lives of key thinkers in the environmental field—Henry David Thoreau, Aldo Leopold, Rachel Carson, Wendell Berry, Bill Devall, Karen Warren, among others. I talk about Thoreau’s cabin, Leopold s “shack,” Carson s cottage in Maine, and how these small, private spaces supported their reflection and writing. I share the tragedy of Leopold’s death by heart attack in a grass fire, before he could publish his now-famous collection of essays, Sand County Almanac (1949), and the terrible irony of Rachel Carson’s breast cancer, draining her vitality even as she was writing Silent Spring. We consider the geographies, the education, the class and social background of these thinkers and the people who influenced them. Together we see that their ideas are a direct expression of a lived commitment to the work. We could say that these forebears are some of our role models on the green practice path.
Telling these stories, it can seem as if the practice path is composed of a series of steps, each leading to the next opportunity. At one level this is true; we can show the contours of our path by mapping the most significant steps that have steered the course of our lives. Each of us has our high peaks of achievement and low valleys of sorrow. We have all taken forks in the road that led to unexpected places. But the “winding path” metaphor overlooks the dynamic nature of what is unfolding in every moment. In the immediate experience
Entering the Stream
of walking the path, you are struggling with internal conflicts, hesi- tations, fears, distractions. You don’t know what lies ahead; by turns you feel brave, lonely, assured, and resistant. You can’t be sure you are progressing or developing in your practice. You make an effort any- way, and only later do you see which among your efforts has turned out to be significant.
Around my home are a number of small figures of the bodhisattva Kuan Yin, also known as Kannon, the bodhisattva archetype of compassion and skillful means. In her hands she offers various means of assistance—a wish-fulfilling jewel, a vessel of soothing water, a lotus of merit. In a piece titled Kitchen Kannon, the Japanese silk-screen artist Mayumi Oda portrays a bodhisattva holding a whisk, a frying pan, a spatula, and a fork—all to accomplish her cooking practice on behalf of all beings. Some of the more elaborate Kannon statues have up to a thousand arms, all ready to help in any way possible. One Kannon, the Eleven-Faced Avalokiteshvara, is striking with its stack ofheads, each with three faces. Those facing to the front are calm and serene, radiating kindness. Those on the left are wrathful and protective, while those on the right have fangs to protect the earnest seeker. Some scholars have suggested that the eleven faces or heads represent the ten stages of bodhisattva development described in the Flower Ornament Sutra. 1 In that text the devoted bodhisattva is working tirelessly to save the many suffering beings, but each time she looks back, she sees even more beings arriving to take the place of those she has saved. This causes her head to split apart with grief Over and over, her head breaks open, each grief greater than the last. After the tenth time, the benevolent Amitabha, the buddha of infinite light and potential, gives her his own head, and she is able to continue her tireless work.
This bodhisattva’s story seems to describe the green practice path. In the middle of trying to do something useful for the earth, you feel alternately calm or wrathful or protective of what you’ve accomplished. You think you are following a practice path with clear
intention, but the challenges seem only to multiply beyond your ca- pacity. Your head or heart may be splitting apart with grief but then others come forward to help, and you return to the work. Over the long term the practice of environmental work develops character and wisdom, but in each situation that may not be so apparent. All you can work with is the present moment. And that is everything. Each choice, each reflection, each consideration of what is appro- priate nourishes the inner personal transformation that comes from taking up a path of practice.
A PATH OF PRACTICE
When people start out on the green path, environmental issues can feel like a separate world, something very much apart from their own lives. That sense of separation makes it harder to find a way to become part of the work in an effective and meaningful way. In a world of myriad environmental challenges, it is not always clear where to make a contribution. How do you know where to put your effort ? How can you tell if your work is making a difference ? As you look for a way to address our planetary situation, it is important to keep asking such questions until the appropriate answers arrive.
You might wonder where exactly to apply the green principles we’ve discussed. Should you work with a nonprofit organization or a government agency ? Should you get a new, more green job ? Should you work locally, nationally, or internationally? Hardly ever does anyone survey all the possible options and then make a rational decision about “what is best.” There is too much going on; there is too much to know. This may seem overwhelming as you step onto the green path, but actually it is a good thing. We have come a very long way since the word “ecology” made its debut in the 1960s. In the twenty-first century, understanding ecology is central to sustaining life on earth as we know it. There are many conversations, many op-
Entering the Stream
portunities, and many good causes at every possible scale of engage- ment. The key is finding the right “fit” with your knowledge, skills, interest, and values. It also helps if someone extends you a hand.
Being naive can be an advantage to the seeker. You approach any new topic of earth-keeping with a fresh mind, a willing curiosity, and your own humble honesty about how little you know. This means you must turn to others to learn more, coming with open hands as a student. Everything you encounter has some value because you don’t yet know what will be useful. Beginner’s mind is a beautiful gift for those entering the stream or taking up a new phase of the work. By asking for help or information, you take small steps in building relationships with others doing this work. This is very important; it is too easy to become discouraged if you try to go it alone in facing environmental issues. Forging connections with others makes it seem possible to do the work; those with experience are a testimony of success to surviving the challenges.
For some, the call or invitation comes first from the natural world itself In my own formative years in environmental work I lived on the edge of a wild area near the University of California in Santa Cruz. I would often go for walks among the coastal live oaks on the grassy terraces or down to the dark canyon of the redwood-lined creek. During the long and emotionally demanding process of completing my graduate studies, I took my unshaped questions to the land, letting my feet guide me as I walked. I learned to respond to the pulls in different directions, not knowing where I would end up, trusting the process for its own wisdom. Sometimes I would find myself climbing an oak on the mesa for the big view of ocean and sky. Sometimes I would crawl close to a small spring nestled in moss, feeding the creek drop by drop. I found answers through listening closely, waiting for insight that made sense in a way I could recognize.
Some find the call arising from conversations with friends or from watching a stirring film. A neighbor tells you about her community garden plot; a colleague explains his house insulation project. After
FOLLOWING THE GREEN PATH
the widespread showing of A 1 Gore’s 2006 him, An Inconvenient Truth, many people suddenly felt called to take up the challenge of climate change. For some, the response is quiet and personal, an inner re' flection or reckoning: It’s time, I must do something. For others, the process of taking up the green path is social and full of excited possibility, like the coming together of thousands of students involved in the Focus the Nation actions on climate. The sheer social momentum of so much inspiring activity can galvanize a crowd to new levels of green commitment.
This seeking or calling process generates a need to know more, to see who’s doing what, to get your bearings in an unfamiliar universe. These days it is not hard to develop a basic working knowledge of ecological principles and to learn about key areas of concern where people are engaged as citizens and professionals. Information is quite accessible on the internet or in introductory books or environmen' tal magazines. Many environmental groups welcome volunteers in- terested in broadening their knowledge base by working with others who know more. It can be tempting to want to study until you feel you know enough to take action. But if you get bogged down with information overload, it might undermine the forward momentum you are trying to generate. To counter this hazard, you should keep an eye on what I call your “juice meter.’’ Which topics and issues generate energy for you? When do you notice your enthusiasm barometer going up ? These moments offer important feedback in the learning process; they tell you what to pursue and what to leave for others to pursue. You don’t even need to know why something is exciting, you just need to follow that thread to the next step.
In any given problem-solving arena, the question will arise: What is effective action ? This is another way of asking: What can I actually do? How can I be effective, given who and what I know now? How can my work have some impact ? These are important questions that should always be kept nearby in evaluating your potential to contribute, which, of course, is constantly changing. The new-
comer to any environmental topic has a thousand ideas of “what people should do” to “save the environment.” The good news is that most of these ideas are already in progress somewhere. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel, you just need to find people who are already acting on your good ideas and join them. Chances are that they will already have assessed the options for effective action and will have developed initiatives that fit the current situation. People with more knowledge and experience, whether they are with the Sierra Club or the Department of Environmental Conservation or the local recycling center, have already given these matters quite a bit of thought.
The most important aspect in the early stages of the green prac' tice path is to find what is personally satisfying and meaningful. With' out this, you won’t continue the work. It is also crucial to make some friends in the process. Without friends, you will feel isolated and lonely and the work won’t be as much fun. People don’t usually think of environmental practice as “fun,” but if you are spending time with good people and sharing a sense of purpose, you are hav' ing a good time helping to create a more sustainable world. Whether you take up this work in your family setting or as a volunteer, in school or downtown, it is all useful. It is all part of the process of shifting the social paradigm toward active care for the place where you live, the place you call home. Your early experiences with green practice often set the direction for where the path leads you next, which may be further into the fray.
DEEPENING THE PRACTICE
Being a beginner with any environmental topic, by definition, can- not last. The more you know about the environment, the less you can rest in blissful ignorance. It is too disturbing. The more you know about climate change, threatened species, energy needs, and human
FOLLOWING THE GREEN PATH
impact, the more concern you are likely to feel. The more time you spend in beautiful natural areas, the more you find out about the physical and political threats to their well-being. The more you understand about social inequity and environmental injustice, the harder it is to see your own actions in isolation. Environmental knowledge can be a double-edged sword: learning more about the world s suffering often generates alarm and emotional distress. At the same time that very knowledge can galvanize you to take action and put that knowledge to work to alleviate suffering.
As a beginner you may have ventured into environmental work in a single arena such as food or caring about a personally significant place. Your shift to green thinking may have come from a single bout of intense commitment or smaller explorations at a gradual pace. If you stay on the green practice path, your range of interests and concerns will expand. If your interest has been sparked through organic foods, you might want to learn more about eating local. If you are concerned about the health impacts of pesticides, you might want to learn more about hormone disrupters. At some point you realize you are asking the green question more and more often. What is the environmental impact of this product ? Of this housing development? Of this zoning policy? You realize you are no longer living in a bubble as if your actions had no impact anywhere. You know they do. Your environmental innocence is gone.
This is how a person enters the next stage of the path of practice. You may not have planned on it. You may find yourself surprised by your own growing convictions. Or you may be wondering how to become a more effective advocate for the environment. As a professor I am invited to be part of such wonderings, as students come to me considering graduate school or midcareer professionals ask about switching fields. Each person arrives in my office carrying a bundle of questions and possible options. They want to think out loud with someone and find something that matches their yearning. I ask them what has brought them this far on the path, and then I try to gauge
what level of commitment they imagine for themselves. I listen while they share what they have been thinking about, no matter how tentative their vision. They have come for encouragement, to hear someone say, “Keep going, yes, you can do more.” It is clear they want a wider engagement with environmental concerns in their personal or professional lives, or maybe even both.
Taking up this phase of deeper commitment involves several sig' nificant inner processes that inform each other. When the green critique penetrates further into your life, you may need to rethink personal priorities. Every day and every hour we are making choices that reflect our current priorities. We choose to invest our time, em ergy, money, relationships in certain things over others. Rethinking priorities means examining our current patterns and seeing if they really reflect what matters most to us. If environmental concerns come to occupy more of your everyday thoughts and activities, then it makes sense to move them more into the forefront of your activf ties. For example, you might learn enough about eating local foods to decide to grow some food of your own. This then means invest' ing in a garden plot and in tools, seeds, soil amendments, compost box, and so on. It also requires an investment of your own precious and limited time. As you share the fruits and vegetables of your labors with others, success generates its own momentum and your invest' ment pays off
Rethinking priorities leads naturally to the second process of personal assessment. From those early stages of beginner s mind, you now have accumulated new skills and knowledge and likely have developed ethical stances in the areas where you have some under- standing. So you ask yourself: What do I know ? What can I actually do? What more do I need to he helpful on another level? It can be very useful to talk this through with someone who can be a witness to your per- sonal growth as a concerned earth citizen. As much as you see what you have gained thus far, it will be obvious that there is much more to learn. It is not possible to do it all, no matter how concerned you
are. Yon are only one person with a finite number ofhours to give to earth care. So you must make some strategic choices to guide your next steps. For some people, what is appropriate is more education and professional development to prepare for fulhtime work in an environmental field. This is a common motivation for seeking a grad' uate degree. Others may need a change of location, a geographical move to bring them closer to a hub of environmental activity, such as Washington, D.C., or one of the rising centers of sustainability, such as Portland, Oregon. Still others may want a major change in lifestyle or more spiritual training to support deeper environmental work.
Complementing both of these processes is selfireflection on the Big Picture: What is really important now, both in my own life and in the world? When I was preparing to take lay ordination vows in the Soto Zen tradition, I was asked to do just this. My Zen teacher had me sit in a room quietly all day by myself, thinking about what it meant to take these vows. I felt somehow there was much more going on than I completely understood. I read the Buddhist precepts and recited the three refuges, settling my mind on accepting this commitment as best I could. In late afternoon I took a long slow walk in the New Mexico landscape, preparing to cross through this gate. The next day, after a light snow had dusted the mountains, I repeated my vows in the presence of the local Zen community and received affirma' tion from my teacher. Afterward we held a wonderful party, and one of my teacher s senior students called in on the phone to offer com gratulations. He explained that before this day I had been practic' ing primarily for myself, to improve my own physical and mental well being. Now, with these vows, my practice would be primarily in the service of others. When you come to take environmental work seriously, you realize you are doing it on behalf of all beings, not just for your own well-being. Looking at the Big Picture means understanding the nature of the current threats, seeing who the political players are, finding the initiatives that make the most sense in the long run. It also means really trying to apply global principles of
justice and sustainability. We cannot do effective environmental work without taking up the roles of race, class, gender, power, and privilege in perpetuating environmental damage and inequity.
In the last few years the global conversation has shifted to focus on the impacts of climate change. All other environmental work seems to be subsumed or compared to the call to “do something” about elf mate change. Many of us find ourselves falling short in knowledge or skill to respond to this call and perplexed at how to shift personal priorities. Reflecting on the Big Picture of climate change, peak oil, and the exploding demand for resources is very unsettling. It is a time of great foment, with many ideas surfacing, many big conversa- tions at play that will affect all of us. We are all being invited into this second stage of the practice path, with no time to waste.
TAKING UP THE PATH
For some people, and certainly not for all, there will be a third stage of the green practice path. At this point the practice becomes a “lifeway.” In Native American traditions, people speak of everyday practice and culture fused into a way of life, something practiced by the whole community 2 The lifeway includes ethics, spirituality, so- cial mores, and a deeply tested way of doing things that makes sense. A lifeway is not a religion, it is not something you can adopt or be baptized into. A lifeway is also not an identity, in the sense of ethnic or political identity. A lifeway is a way of being in the world that carries strong intention and shared wisdom. People who follow a shared lifeway help each other develop this wisdom and the strength to persevere under duress.
To introduce my class to this idea of lifeway, 1 invite my friend Amy Seidel to visit as a colleague and role model. Amy is the director of Teal Farm, a demonstration site in northern Vermont for living sustainably in the future. Each year she gives us a progress report
on developments at the farm. Plantings have been designed with a warming climate in mind; the system of solar and microdiydro sources is set up to feed energy back into the grid. In the main house there are facilities for hulk food preservation and storage. I have walked around the site with Amy, marveling at the care and foresight to so many details. Amy describes the vision of living close to the land on what it produces. She grounds this vision solidly in ecological principles, looking clear-eyed at a warming planet. She doesn’t exhort the students, she just shares what she knows about sustainable practices and how to plan for a green future. It is obvious that she is extending an invitation to the green lifeway to everyone in the room. Afterward the students come down and mob her with questions, eager to learn more.
If you find you are revising your priorities to reflect your environmental concerns and seeking out friendships that support your environmental priorities, you may see that something significant has shifted in your depth of commitment. Thinking about the earth is no longer something you do now and then; it has become a way of life. Non-harming and systems thinking have become second nature to you. In every situation you look for the green alternative that makes the most environmental sense. Because this is a way of life, you feel morally obliged to look at every aspect of your food choices, your buying patterns, your energy use, your civic contributions to greening your community.
There is no single lifeway to hold up conveniently as a gold standard. You do not necessarily have to be a vegan or vegetarian, or live oflF-grid or in a green-built house, or have a job influencing environmental policy. You do not have to drive a hybrid car, grow a garden, or wear organic clothing. What marks the green lifeway is not specific choices but depth of commitment and intention. The person in this stage of the practice path takes it very seriously, questioning the impacts of their actions in all that they do. This process of ethical re-
flection is fueled by a deep and abiding love for the well-being of life on Earth.
From this perspective, any aspect of human activity is open to ethical reflection and incorporation into a green lifeway. In new and inspiring ways, people are carrying this process forward into uncharted territory. Churches and temples are trying to green their sanctuaries as part of their congregational lifeway. Universities are looking for ways to green not only their curricula but also their buildings. A local green parenting store opened up recently on our downtown pedestrian marketplace. Green marriages have come into fashion to support couples committed to caring for the earth in all they do. And there is now a green burial movement in the United States which considers the environmental ethics of our choices in dealing with the dead.
But let me repeat again, lifeway is not lifestyle. It is not about personal choice as a green consumer or the A lifeway is informed by the wisdom and experience of others and is nourished by building community with others on the green practice path. These may be friends, colleagues, family members, or role models from afar. “Community” may not necessarily mean neighborhood; people following this path find each other across the continent and globe. We encourage each other, we lean on each other, and we build on each other s strengths and experiments. When there are setbacks or frustrations, as in the eight years under President Bush s leadership, we look to others in Europe, India, Australia, and beyond to keep the momentum going and the practice path strong. Experimental communities in places such as Auroville, India, model visions of the future where practicing a green life way is backed by infrastructure as well as intention.
Some time ago I came to the realization that no matter how committed I was to a green lifeway, this work would not he completed in my lifetime. The forests would not all grow back, the energy grids
perfecting of green virtue.
would not all go solar, the roads would not all have bike lanes before I left this world. At the time I thought that was discouraging, but mostly it was deeply sobering. It led me to see that it is very impor- tant that I pass the green spark on to the next generation. Young people need to be mentored and encouraged to explore the green path of practice. They need support, opportunities, friends, and a multigenerational community of practice partners. The vision I carry of a healthy and life-sustaining earth will take some time to accomplish. It is a cross-generational and cross-cultural project. We don’t know how long we must invest in this path of practice. A very important part of following the green lifeway is inviting younger people along, showing them it is possible to nurture the green heart and live a life of conscious intention.
HOW THEN SHALL WE LIVE?
In today’s world, the pace of change seems to accelerate exponentially year to year. It is not easy to take the time to reflect on our actions, assess priorities, set intention, and build community. Mostly we fall short of our green hopes and ideals. Sometimes the rate of destruction seems to be speeding up right before our eyes. But it is also true that the rate of learning—the spread of information and new ways of doing things—is faster than we ever could have imagined ten or twenty years ago. Yes, people and nations vary considerably in their commitment to the new sustainability practices. But the overall momentum toward the green practice path is accelerating and headed in the right direction, urged on now by the most pressing matter of climate change.
I know only some pieces of what will be required in taking up these challenges. But I do know we need each others voices and hearts as we deliberate about how to proceed. The green practice
path will be fraught with difficulty; the obstacles are everywhere. We need to understand that these very obstacles are the path. We will all be called to deepen our green commitment to be ready for the complexities, the impossibilities, the world as we can’t yet imag- ine it—both terrible and beautiful in its unfolding.
as we take up the green practice path, we begin to see the hurdles before us. Even if we feel confident that we are taking the right steps, we inevitably encounter obstructions and setbacks as we pursue our environmental work. In some countries, a person can be put in jail for speaking out about environmental concerns. Wangari Maathai, the winner of the 2004 Nobel Peace Prize, was beaten and publicly humiliated for her tree-planting campaigns in Kenya. Nigerian activist Ken Saro-Wiwa, whose tribal lands had been abused by oil extraction, was executed with eight others for speaking out on behalf of the Ogoni people. Holding to green prim ciples lays the foundation for the green practice path. This chapter takes up the personal challenges that will test your commitment. It is hard to face these things. We wish they didn’t exist. But under- standing these challenges is central to the spiritual work of the green practice path.
DIFFICULT MIND STATES
Environmental despair was first identified in the 1960s when people were grappling with the issues raised by the use of nuclear power
Engaging Skillful Effort
and the long term challenges of nuclear waste. The risk of serious exposure to radiation seemed to be very high, whether from plant meltdowns, transportation accidents, or faulty storage. Antinuclear activists found it difficult to arouse the average person on the street to the same levels of concern they were feeling. And worse, they found that over time, they couldn’t keep themselves aroused to the same degree of heightened anxiety. What was going on ? Psychologist Robert f. Lifton, who studied the impacts of Hiroshima on survivors, described a process he called “psychic numbing.” This numbing gem erates a state of dullness—reduced response to life, a short-circuiting of strong feeling, something that happens when we get too scared, too anxious, too concerned, too anything that we can’t sustain over time. Something inside us shuts down in a protective way. Enough is enough, the mind says. Don’t tell me about one more bad thing.
Fear of strong emotions, fear of feeling guilty or powerless, fear of distressing others—these all prevent people from responding to environmental abuse. We don’t know what to do with the feelings that rise up strongly as we hear about another massive oil spill, another round of clear-cutting. These compromised responses are socially reinforced by the apathy of the media and by personal pressures of work and family. Often we feel there is no time to do anything extra, let alone add to our already long list of worries. It is all too easy to settle for political passivity, cynical blaming, or distraction through entertainment. If we feel overwhelmed, it is tempting to just turn away from it all or End a way to escape the bad feelings.
It can seem like the obstacles associated with environmental concerns are different from anything we’ve seen in the past, somehow more life-threatening, more challenging, more impossible to address. But human societies have faced overwhelming horrors in other centuries that also seemed way beyond anyone’s capacities at the time. Bubonic plague, colonization and genocide, the cruelty of slavery, worldwide war—all these have seemed unsurmountable. And yet people have, in fact, taken up very difficult situations and
found ways to respond. The environmental work of the twenty-first century is yet another daunting test that will stretch us in ways we can’t even begin to imagine. Learning how to carry on environmental work in the company of obstacles will be an important strength to cultivate for the long effort ahead. This chapter takes up the practice of understanding obstacles as not only inevitable but a necessary part of the green path.
We can begin this practice by learning to recognize difficult mind states when they arise and by studying how they affect us personally. The self-help bookshelves offer many guides to understanding the psychology of emotions; I am going to draw on a Buddhist framework because that is the perspective that makes the most sense to me. So far at least, it seems to address the wide range of mind states I’ve encountered across my years of environmental work. Buddhist psychology is also complementary and supportive of other approaches to emotional awareness. Moreover, Buddhist psychology takes these mind states seriously as a crucial part of the practice path, providing skillful means for working with them. Working directly with difficult emotions can provide a useful grounding in the midst of challenging environmental work.
In a fundamental sense, all feeling states can be described as primarily pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Being on a wooded mountain trail breathing fresh air awakens pleasant feelings; driving by an oil refinery spewing smoke awakens unpleasant feelings. The pleasant feelings are attracting; they pull us toward the thing that has stimulated those feelings. The unpleasant feelings are repulsing; they push us away from the stimulating thing or thought. Given a choice, we generally want more of the good feelings and less of the bad feelings. These impulses toward and away are hardwired into our animal bodies, based on the need to find food and mates and to escape predators and other dangers. Neutral feelings pull us neither way, as when we feel confused or unable to take action.
The problem with any of these feelings, from a Buddhist per- spective, is identifying with them as part of your personal story, or becoming conditioned by certain emotional habits. Being hooked by feelings happens when we identify with our opinions, our prefer- ences, our desires and appetites, and insist on their rightness. People get hooked by environmentally generated feelings in a number of ways. Some people are caught by a self-righteous sense of virtue or idealism in their concerns; some are hooked by alarmist fears of nuclear meltdown or climate catastrophe that keep them awake at night. Being “hooked” means being stuck, obsessed, caught, and generally unable to see the feeling as a passing phenomenon.
Buddhist teachers speak of the “three poisons”—greed, hate, and delusion—as the feelings that most disturb the mind. Named in such strong terms, you might not relate to them—who wants to think of themselves as greedy, hateful, or deluded ? The three poisons are shorthand terms for the three tendencies related to our feelings—to go toward what we want (greed), to turn away from what we don’t want (hate, or aversion), and to be confused by what we don’t understand (delusion). Environmental debates are often marked by strong rhetoric of blame and aversion, pointing to the destructive horrors of modern industrialism. They can also be quite deluded by dreams of back-to-the-land simplicity, which overlook gaping class and race differences. The challenge of the green practice path is to be aware of these feelings and watch how they work in the mind, even though this may be uncomfortable and even painful at times.
We could make a list of the most wearing mind states that seem to undermine our intentions and best efforts for environmental progress. Here are some that have ravaged my own attention at different times: Fear of a frightening future, with destructive climate events or deathly pandemics. Anger at those who block citizen initiatives for clean energy or global cooperation. Despair for the damaged world our children will inhabit. Worry that not enough can be
done fast enough. Grief for the hundreds of species and beautiful places being lost or degraded beyond repair. Cynicism and exhaus- tion—will anything we do really matter against the dominant politi- cal forces ? Ignorance and helplessness in seeing our own limits of knowledge and power. These are powerful mind states.
By focusing our attention on the experience of the feelings, we can keep from being swept away by them. By staying present in the actual moment of the troublesome mind state, we engage it directly and can observe how it affects us. The goal in this practice is to com serve energy—our own energy, that is. We want to minimize the loss of energy to mind states that distract and drain us, because we need all the energy we can generate to address the environmental dilemmas before us. We can t afford to spend weeks or months lost in despair or anxiety.
Buddhist psychology speaks of the “five hindrances” to a calm mind, flames of strong feeling and mental unrest that can be cooled by the practice of mindfulness. These are: greed, ill will, dullness or sleepiness, worry and anxiety, and doubt. The first one, greed, is said to be like a trap that keeps us in its hold—wanting things to be different, wanting more knowledge before we act, or wanting more people to support our ideas. These traps hold us back from being present with how things actually are. Anger or ill will is more like a sickness that eats away inside of you. It might take the form of resentment or blame against those who are causing environmental damage. We think, It is all theirfault —they are the ones who are destroying the forests, polluting our drinking water. But this anger is like boiling water; it scalds you more than anyone else, for you are the pot, boiling over with rage.
Drowsiness comes on us when we are exhausted from our emotional struggles. We may feel some respite and relief from the endless battles, but then may feel sleepy and be unable to concentrate. Dullness overcomes the sluggish mind, weary from too many e-mails, too many opinions, too many things to do. The mind loses its flexi-
bility and vitality, worn down and unable to respond. Worry and anxiety work in the opposite way, overstimulating the mind. We get hooked on our own adrenaline, afraid that if we stop worrying we won’t be able to keep going with the tasks before us. This him drance is sometimes compared to slavery; we become enslaved to our worries for the planet and can never enjoy peace of mind.
Doubt, like all the other hindrances, comes up regularly in ad' dressing environmental issues. In many situations, we really do not know what the next step is or what the right thing is to do. We are having to invent responses to situations we have never seen before. It is very easy to begin doubting yourself and your capacities; you can feel lost and without direction. Your inner voice might needle you: You’re not smart do you think you are? This can be very unsettling, particularly for some' one who is used to passionately following their environmental ideals. Doubt sows confusion and makes it hard to move actions forward. Doubting others and doubting oneself both undermine progress, leaving the situation dangling and unresolved.
How then, do we learn to “be with” these difficult mind states ? How do we learn to practice with these obstacles without being swept away by their power ? The first step is naming the mind states as they arise. Some people practice this naming in the quiet space of meditation. But you do not have to meditate to be aware of these obstacles; they will present themselves for your attention if you are alert. In the midst of a public hearing or a political showdown, you can pause and ask yourself: Whatamlfeehngnow? What is going on here? How am I being hooked by this feeling? How is it affecting my behavior? As you take the time to be with the feelings, you gain familiarity with your own emotional triggers around environmental concerns. This helps you contain your emotional heat and leave more space for others in the conversation. As you focus on the awareness rather than on the passion of the feelings, you cultivate equanimity and mental stability for more challenges ahead.
enough to handle this, or \ ou re not spiritual enough—who
WORKING WITH THE OBSTACLES
What might this practice look like if we apply it to a difficult envi- ronmental concern ? I’ll nominate climate change, because that is the one I am wrestling with right now myseffi And I’m hardly alone. My college president and state governor are wrestling with it. My senators and representatives are wrestling with it. And my young students, barely into their twenties, are trying to figure out how to cope with something that will rearrange their entire world. I think it is highly likely that we will run into many, if not all, of these challenging mind states as we turn to face the all-encompassing all- hands-on-deck situation of climate change. I confess there are days I want to escape into denial and days I just wring my hands with worry. Watching the arctic ice shrink beyond anyone’s projections certainly doesn’t help.
Let’s consider three practice approaches as possible ways to work with the obstacles of climate change. Buddhist environmental teacher and activist Joanna Macy has developed a process that works with emotions as bound energy, capable of transformation. 1 Originally called “despair and empowerment work,’’ her guided exercises help people acknowledge their pain for the suffering of the world under assault. Through simple questioning, listening, and instructed activity, people are invited to express what they have been feeling—the fear, grief guilt, helplessness. I have participated in a number of workshops with Joanna and taken her advanced trainings, eventually facilitating the work in my own teaching. I consider Joanna to be a primary mentor in shaping my sense of how important it is to address deeply held environmental concerns. I was carrying no small measure of despair and worry for our world when I first learned of this work. Macy encourages people to see that strong feelings are a compassionate response to the world, a form of energy that can be freed up for constructive action.
When we express our feelings as honestly and clearly as we can, we arrive fully in the present moment, accepting that “this is how it is right now.” We can then take the next step of reconsidering our usual self-absorbed perspective by shifting to a systems view. We do this through a shift of focus, away f rom our immediate pain and toward the big-system energy flows we are participating in all the time. We see ourselves as part of those flows, with momentum and opportunity. This new perspective generates a natural transformation from bound pain to unbound creativity. The process can be experienced in one of Macy’s exercises that is based on the Tibetan meditation practice of tonglen. This practice is a way ofboth being with the difficult emotions and also transforming them into generative energy.
We can try this out with climate change. We begin by tuning in to the breath, to the ribbon of air that moves through the nose, into the chest and abdomen, visualizing the breath-stream as it moves in and out, connecting us with the larger web of life. Then we imagine in our minds’ eye the hardships we know already that are a part of climate change . . . flooding in New Orleans from Hurricane Katrina, melting ice in Greenland, polar bears threatened with extinction, coral reefs bleaching in overheated water. Worry arises, we breathe through. We call to mind the harsh droughts of summer and parched fields of corn. Despair arises, we breathe through. We think of island peoples driven from their homes as the ocean floods the shore. Fear arises, we breathe through.
As we breathe, we stay present with ourselves. We pay attention while the waves of feeling present themselves, while we observe the difficult mind states. When a wave of feeling subsides, we return to the stabilizing breath, the sense of being connected with the wider web of life. As Macy says, we allow ourselves to “be breathed by life;” 2 we trust the wider web to support us and help transform the difficult mind states. Grief arises, the breath tightens. Breathing through to connection, the breath relaxes. The breath becomes a direct aid
to both observing and letting go of obstacles. For Macy, trained in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, this practice is a foundation for envF sioning a more sustainable world, literally available through freeing the mind.
The Tibetan approach and Macy’s creative imagination were, for me, a stark contrast to the spare contours of Zen practice, my own root training. The Zen way is not for everyone, but it has a sharp clarity that can be very effective in practicing with difficult mind states. Formal Zen centers often have a statue of Manjusri on the altar as a reminder to students of his power to “cut through.” Manjusri is the bodhisattva of wisdom, and he is usually depicted holding a sword in one hand, ready to cut through delusion and attachment. Students are encouraged to use the sword with their own minds, cutting through the debilitating effects of the hindrances. Like the famous “whack!" of the stick, this method is firm and direct, no nonsense. It can appear harsh, but in fact it is refreshing to be lib- erated from the paralysis of certain mind states. Suddenly there is the bigger truth in front of you, the whole situation, the big energetic dynamic playing through of all the parts. And “whack!” Your own selFabsorption in fear or grief has evaporated.
How might that work for the person concerned with climate change? I find myself groaning as I prepare my class lecture on climate change, putting together the facts and figures of a planet under assault. The experts say we have only ten years to turn this around. I have read the books and reports. I know too much. I am awash in concern. Will there be a pandemic from some new pathogen that has surged into new habitat? Will there be terrible wars for the last remaining oil reserves? What horrors will my students witness? I am sinking, I am anxious, how can I talk about this with them? Whack, whack! Get out the sword! Stop beforeyou drown! The mind clears, just enough to consider: Hey! There might be something else happening besides my feelings! I remember the students are organizing for a big event near Washington, D.C.— the first national youth summit on
climate change. How can I invest my energy in that? Creativity is flowing now, I contact the organizer, invite her to class to tell every- one what’s happening. I will invite those who are going to the conference to come down in front so we can invest our class energy in them. And then, I think, let’s pass the hat for them! And I will pledge to get our faculty to match whatever the students throw in.
What happened here ? The terrible projections of the future were clogging my mind with debilitating feeling states. I didn’t stop to analyze them, name them, or even focus my breathing on them. I just got out the sword and cut them off Radical! And refreshing. Something moved, my self-centered views dropped away. I realized there were other people in the picture; I could put my energy into them instead of my feeling states. It changed my orientation to climate change; I could be part of what the young people were doing. For them, this is an unprecedented opportunity to create a better world than the one they’ve inherited. Let’s go with that; I’ll keep that Man- jusri sword handy for the next round of anxiety.
Both of these approaches may not be easily accessible without some training. The third approach, however, is based on straightforward common sense, drawn from the earliest Buddhist teachings on skillful effort. “Effort,” in this context, means firm resolve to address difficult mind states and minimize their impact. “Skillful” means using an approach that is effective and reliable. Skillful effort is another one of the eight spokes of practice that the Buddha taught in his Four Noble Truths. He offered it as a way to address everyday mental and emotional suffering. I believe this approach can also work for the mind states we experience as we think about climate change.
There are four steps in this approach; these should be thought of as long-term reorientation in working with feelings that affect our capacity to do good environmental work. 3 The first step is to prevent negative states of mind from arising. This requires vigilant mindfulness practice and intimate familiarity with our own tendencies and hooks. People working with climate change report some of these common
mind states: anger at the slow pace of government action, frustration at trying to communicate technical information, alarm at the spread of pests with the warming climate. Negative mind states are those that spiral downward into hopelessness, choking off a wider view of the dynamics in motion. They arise from dwelling on the emotion, investing in it, using it to alarm others or to generate urgency that will motivate action. But that absorption detracts from establishing a peaceful and flexible mind.
What to do then ? You use mindfulness to return to the present moment, to the realities before you and see, for example, Ah! I'm feeling discouraged today about my government’s resistance to the science of global warming. Stop right there: I’m feeling discouraged. You watch that mind state as it is contained in your experience, you stay with it while the feeling is strong, and then you remember, lam not the whole world! As I tell my students, we need to remind ourselves that other countries are taking significant steps to manage carbon emissions; they are not waiting for us. The United Kingdom is working toward target goals for reducing emissions; Germany has built acres of wind farms; Japan is developing affordable solar technology. It is important to remember that your own discouragement is not stopping the world from moving forward; it is just what you are feeling at the moment.
You can watch how certain hooks set you up for negative mind states—for example, watching the news on television just before bed. Sometimes stress at work or at home leaves you vulnerable to difficult emotions regarding the environment. Many people are more prone to negative mind states under the influence of biochemical body states induced by alcohol, drugs, sugar, lack ofsleep, or no exercise. The Buddha warned his students to learn to endure small irritations. In today’s society we are used to adjusting everything to our exact liking; we are hooked on our own needs for comfort and control. This can get in the way of applying skillful effort where it is needed.
The second step is overcomingnegative mind states after they have arisen. Once a hindrance has gotten a toehold in your mind, it can be hard to
dislodge. You might be sunk in depression (sluggishness) or burning with rage toward “the system.” Rather than thinking these feelings will just go away in time, it is more effective to give them your complete at' tention and see what you can find out. You can begin to notice how the feeling state is blocking your equanimity, how it is causing you mental or even physical harm as it persists. You can look closely to see the muf tiple causes that are contributing to the mind state. You can remind yourself that nothing lasts forever, whatever you fear about climate change. The hardest mind states to overcome are those that are deeply entrenched. It may be necessary to be more firm or disciplined with yourself making a strong effort to corral your energy for more produc- tive activity. You reaffirm your recommitment to the practice path, remembering we need all our bright minds and good energy to tackle the frightening implications of climate change.
The third step is to cultivate positive states of mind. By “positive,” I mean healthy, relaxed, able to function, content. It seems that many people are often more inclined to generate negative states of mind than positive states. But if you take up this practice, yo.u will see immediate benefits. It is possible to intentionally bring up positive states of mind such as compassion for others’ suffering, joy in others’ accomplishments, stabilizing equanimity, and kindness toward others. For some people, this takes the form of prayer, an active invocation for the well-being of all. In systems thinking, we would say that these mind states generate positive or amplifying feedback, bringing more kindness, more equanimity, more joy, and more compassion into a situation fraught with obstacles. Bringing these qualities to climate change discussions can reduce conflict and encourage more people to feel welcome to share their ideas.
The fourth step is to maintain positive states of mind. The better you get at recognizing difficult mind states and overcoming them, the more you will be able to cultivate and maintain positive mind states. Calm and good-spirited mind states are attractive to others; they encourage people to want to work with you on a common project.
Positive states of mind make it much more possible to take up chak lenges as comprehensive as climate change. This is deep personal work that carries through to more than just environmental chak lenges. It is a matter of spiritual discipline to take good care of a positive state of mind. You could say that climate change work rests on maintaining a positive mental climate, a flexible and resilient mind that rejoices in the vitality of life. Imagine such a positive mental elk mate pervading negotiations on climate change. Under the influence of calm and good-spirited mind states, people might be more wilb ing to drop their individual agendas to work for the positive benefit of all. The benefits of spiritual practice can very quickly bring tangk ble and practical results.
AN ETHIC OF RESTRAINT
Many moments of skillful effort on the green practice path add up to a lifetime practice of mindfulness. Ethical and spiritual engagement offers tremendous support for environmental work. His Holiness the Dalai Lama recommends cultivating a habit of inner discipline. In his book, Ethics for the New Millennium (1999), he points out that lack of inner restraint is the source of unethical conduct. Inner discipline is a voluntary and intentional effort exemplified in the practice of skillful effort. Such an effort is not about choosing a specific religion or being part of a religious community. It is about ethical actions and inner discipline as they help us become effective environmen- tal citizens. W orking with difficult mind states is part of the practice of inner discipline and carries long-term developmental consequences. We can use this work to become not just better advocates for the environment but kinder human beings.
In this context, we can see it is not only useful but perhaps one of the best things we can do to take difficult mind states seriously. People bring their emotional habits and histories with them into their
environmental work. If they see themselves as victims, they will look for people to blame for environmental suffering. If they are used to having everything their way in every decision, they will be poorly equipped to listen to people with different views. Most of us are fairly blind to the emotional and cultural habits that drive us. It is not unusual for someone to replay their family-of-origin dramas in the setting of a small environmental nonprofit organization.
A strong motivation for many of us who take up environmental work is our sense that people have acted unethically toward the land, the animals, the beloved places, the earth as a whole. People in the environmental movement often suggest that we need better social ethics if we are to sustain our economies, governments, fame lies, and communities into the future. What needs changing, they say, is not just the polluted air and water but the ethics that permit' ted the pollution in the first place. Environmental philosophers have proposed many guidelines for ethical relations with all beings. We have much to draw on here, from Aldo Leopold’s land ethic to the Dalai Lama’s ethic of universal responsibility. These ideas and many others are part of an evolving social ethic regarding our envL ronmental relations. As environmental concerns mount, it becomes imperative that we change our fundamental approach to the earth.
But we can’t simply take a position and tell other people to change. It is much more effective in the long run to model the ethical behav- ior we wish to promote. This requires taking up our own ethical work with wholehearted commitment. By being more honest with ourselves, we are less likely to project our unconscious feelings onto others. By dealing with our own difficult mind states, we come to understand that all human beings must grapple with these things; it is very much what makes us human. Working with the obstacles can become a way of connecting with others, offering kindness to soften the challenges of the green practice path.
ONCE YOU TAKE UP THE GREEN PRACTICE PATH,yOUSee that environmental caregiving is a lifelong task. The changes that need to happen may even take generations. We absolutely cannot do this work alone. We need the encouragement and inspiration of others. We need the guidance of those ahead of us on the path, those with green wisdom who can help us find our way. These wisdom sources can strengthen our practice commitment and challenge us to go further. They can demonstrate ethical integrity for us to emu- late. They can help us remember that others have taken up this work before us and made it possible for us to do the piece we are doing now. The green practice path is a long road with many kind beings along the way. Just as the obstacles are everywhere, so too are the teachers. They appear as we need them; we bring them forward with our calls for help. And we, too, in whatever stage of the green path, can be wisdom sources for others, passing the green spark along.
SEEKING WISDOM FROM OTHERS
When I was in junior high school I stumbled on a book by Joseph Wood Krutch called The Great Chain of Being. I didn’t really know what
Seeking Wisdom Sources
I d found; it was just another volume from the school library that looked interesting. As a young teen I read constantly, seeking solace in words and privacy from my rowdy family. Something about the spare, poetic language of this naturalist caught my attention. Krutch wrote with a gentle authority, based on hours of field observations, watching the desert rhythms and web of life. His stories revealed the grand beauty of life, the wholeness of nature. He was saying something very important that I had not yet run into in science class or church or listening to my parents. Though I was barely an adoles- cent at the time, I believe this was my first taste of green wisdom- seeking mind.
After I graduated from college, in the early days of the environmental movement, that love of nature was turned upside down with agonizing questions. Why were we killing the remarkable giants of the sea, the gentle blue whales? Why were we spraying dangerous toxins on the land ? What would really happen if the earth’s population doubled? And scariest of all, what about nuclear radiation? I, like many others, was desperate for thoughtful reflection on these difficult topics. I looked to Rachel Carson, Barry Commoner, Paul Ehrlich—the few lone scientists speaking out about the serious implications of ecological disaster. Maybe they could provide guidance in finding a wise path forward.
Still seeking wisdom, I returned to Krutch and discovered that he drew his philosophy from Albert Schweitzer, the German theologian who served as a medical missionary to Africa in the early twentieth century. Schweitzer’s selfless work and guiding philosophy earned him the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize. His book, Out of My Life and Thought (1931), offered me a grounding point as I tried to find my way through the environmental crisis. 1 Schweitzer called his philosophy “reverence for life”—a recognition that all life is sacred and “unfathomably mysterious.” Understanding this central truth, the moral person should act to preserve and protect life. This made complete sense to me; I could not stand to squash a ladybug nor see my
country at war. Schweitzer demonstrated that it was not only possi' ble but deeply satisfying to live by this philosophy.
Root teachers such as Schweitzer are cultural transmitters of life' giving environmental values. Tapping into their wisdom streams can provide a well of energy and insight as we take up the great urn knowns of environmental work. We cannot come up with all the an- swers on our own. Following these issues over many years, I see that it is not uncommon for those engaging environmental concerns to be seeking wisdom sources of one form or another. They have lifted up the ecological wisdom in writings by Henry David Thoreau and John Muir. They have found insight in nature writing such as Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire. Indigenous people, ecofeminists, and environmental justice advocates have contributed their perspectives based on alternate ways of know' ing. And now an increasing number of people are drawing on world religions, seeking ecological guidance from ancient wisdom traditions. This seeking seems to be a natural corollary to environmental work, arising because we find ourselves in such uncharted territory and greatly in need of guidance.
As a teacher myself I am interested in how people seek out teachers and what they consider to be key learning experiences. I ask my students to write an environmental autobiography, naming key events and people, telling the stories of their environmental awakenings. Sometimes the teachers are parents or ministers; some- times they are animal members of the family or beloved trees. It might be a particular place that carries meaning, revealing its natural wis- dom over time. By asking students to articulate these forms of trans- mission, I am intentionally encouraging wisdormseeking mind. I want them to value their own learning experiences and recognize those who have given them teachings along the path. I see them feeling overwhelmed by the fears of climate change and peak oil or the mom ster of consumerism, and I remember my own frightened loneliness
in the face of it all. But now I know there are teachers everywhere, available for the seeking, and I want my students to waste no time in finding green wisdom.
THE SEEKING PROCESS
How do you look for a teacher or wisdom source ? What does it mean in spiritual traditions to take up the “way-seeking mind” ? It seems that finding wisdom happens in as many ways as there are people. Often it starts with the simple request for help. There are at least two broad approaches to fi nding guidance along the green practice path. One is systematic, the other serendipitous. The systematic seeker is methodical in finding resources or direction along their environ- mental path. They make appointments with advisers, they plan their courses of action carefully, they engage the structures of learning to see what they can offer. They may read widely but purposefully, looking for the bright minds in their area of interest. They investigate organizations on the internet, looking for a good fit with their values. Systematic seekers often have strong focus or intention and are able to comb through many potential resources in the hopes of finding a guiding framework or insightful mind.
Serendipitous seekers, on the other hand, usually have only a general sense of where they’re headed or maybe no plan at all in mind. They have great faith that life will turn up what they need. If there is a long dry spell, that is all part of the process. This approach is more like following a meandering stream that keeps shifting course. The serendipitous seeker is content with each stop along the way that supplies adequate resources, nourishing the traveler to continue with the journey. This works best when the seeker comes with open hands and a willingness to learn from what presents itself You might think of the long-distance backpacker, following a trail or landform,
and figuring it out as he or she goes along. Wisdom could arrive in the form of unexpected shelter, enlightening company, or insight from a ridge'top landmark.
Most people experience a mix of these two approaches, depend' ing on their changing life circumstances and what suits their per- sonalities. Ifthe faith approach is not turning up much wisdom, then it may be time to take up the systematic approach. If the systematic approach starts to feel like a straitjacket, then it is time to break the mold and go off in a new direction. Seeking wisdom sources for em vironmental work is a personal process; it might be motivated by professional ambition or moral angst. It might be addressing a need for support or a need for stimulation. Each persons journey is unique; each person has their own wisdom-seeking story to uncover. So much depends on the nature of the need, the intensity of the seeking, the character of the seeker. Sometimes an inspiring environmental writer suc)i as Barry Lopez or Gretel Ehrlich can offer poetic insight for direction. Sometimes a thoughtful conversation, one on one, with a potential mentor in the field provides needed encouragement. Other times it is best to just go for a walk and listen to the trees.
Both types of seeking can be enhanced by using systems think' ing. It is crucial to see yourself as part of an open system of wisdom transmission, flowing across time through generations and across space through networks of communication. If you are feeling the isolation of environmental despair or the sag of helplessness, it may require effort to take up a different perspective. Sensing this flow of wisdom is a way of making yourself available to it, even in a not'yet' manifest way. From here it is possible to sharpen your sensors for positive and negative feedback, using even the most subtle signals as directional cues. If you were using systematic seeking, for example, you might attend a number of talks on the environment by expen speakers. At each talk, you could be paying close attention to your responses, listening to your internal comments saying, Yes, yes, tell me more (positive flow'enhancing feedback), or No, that’s not it (negative
Seeking Wisdom Sources
flow-dampening feedback). “No, that’s not it” does not necessarily mean you are critical of the speaker; it may just be that this person or this information is not an appropriate wisdom source for you right now with your particular questions. “Yes, yes, tell me more” tells you this is a direction to pursue, to see what it can yield.
It is also possible to test this feedback or set up criteria that can help with the discernment process. Because so many of today’s envi- ronmental problems carry a moral dimension, it is important to look for teachers whose ethics are consistent with their actions. One of my first socially engaged Buddhist teachers, Robert Aiken of Hawaii, inspired me with his commitment to war tax resistance. As a young man, Aiken had spent some formative years in the Philippines dur- ing World War II, so he knew something of the personal anguish of war. Because of his Buddhist vows of non-harming, he felt he could not support the violence and killing of war in any way. So every year he refused to pay income taxes as part of the antiwar effort. Aiken knew the jarring impact of war on the environment. He encour- aged his students to take up environmental concerns, applying the principles of the Buddhist precepts. In his teaching, Aiken shared his own deep love for the natural world, drawing on the precepts as a guide for appropriate action. I listened to his words, but I was even more impressed to see how strongly his ethical integrity manifested in his actions.
For some people, the wisdom-seeking process follows emotional response, a felt sense that the wisdom teacher is “on your wave- length” in speaking about shared concerns. When Terry Tempest Williams published her first book, Refuge, many readers found emo- tional resonance with her expressions of concern. She told the story ofher family exposure to nuclear testing in the Utah desert and how breast cancer showed up in generation after generation ofher female relatives. Paralleling this story was a chronicle of threats to Great Salt Lake, impacting her much-beloved waterbirds. Williams wrote in such personal terms that readers relived the story with her and
saw immediately the links between human and environmental health and how both love and tragedy could penetrate your family. Through this award-winning book, Williams validated for many the powerful role of emotions in responding to environmental abuse.
Wisdom has perennially been associated with ethics; some green wisdom teachers have articulated environmental ethics that provide ideological frameworks for environmental action. Arne Naess, a Nor- wegian philosopher and activist, developed the ideas that became known as “deep ecology,” providing an alternative to the mainstream view, which he called “shallow ecology.” 2 As a climber and mourn taineer as well as a professor, Naess drew attention to hydropower plans that would dam waterfalls and destroy Norway’s beautiful fjords. He was among the first to place himself in harm’s way to draw at' tention to threatened places. His philosophy derived directly from personal experience, what he described as self-realization through ecological identification with other beings. Naess maintained that the most convincing environmental ethics rest on experiential insights of re' lationship with other lifeTorms that expand one’s own sense of self From his deep ecology perspective, all beings are potential wisdom sources in the wide web of life.
SEEING TEACHERS EVERYWHERE
Twenty years ago I enrolled in a seminary program to explore my own need for wisdom sources and my desire to consider a profes' sional career in the ministry. One course was a private tutorial on the Gospels of Jesus, introduced by reading Martin Buber’s I and Thou. Each week the professor would clear his desk, light a small candle, and invite me to consider the “green circuitry” of meaning that flowed from what I was reading. He was presenting a koan about love as expressed by Martin Buber and Jesus, and I sought a way to enter it that made sense to me. I wondered aloud to him if Jesus
loved trees as Buber did. I wanted to spend time with trees and ask that question in their presence, to see what could happen if you ap- proached trees as wisdom sources. It seemed like a heretical idea considering the history of Christian attacks on paganism, but the professor encouraged me. He had his own relationship with a tow- ering maple in his yard and felt my questions were valid.
During that semester I wrote three short pieces in my journal, undertaking tutelage at the foot of several trees that called to me. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I tried my best not to “channel ” messages or make up anthropomorphic responses. To “hear” the trees, I had to clear my mind as best I could of human projection. In this, my Zen practice was very helpful, although I struggled with expressing my experience in human language. My classmates encouraged me to continue the experiment, and soon I found myself seeking out a number of trees I had met over my time in California. I never knew what would come from these meetings, but always there was a story. On one outing in winter I felt called to visit the coast redwoods down in the creek near my house. When it started to rain, I sought shelter in the stump of an ancient old-growth tree, cut perhaps a hundred years ago and charred on the inside from passing fires. There were many striking trees all around me, but I stayed with the old tree, stretching my mind back into the history of redwood decimation. I tried to listen to the whole story—logging camps, settling the west, rebuilding San Francisco, protecting the remaining giants. Tears of sorrow streamed down my face in the rain, even as I acknowledged the new trees sprouting from the old ones’ stumps. The visits to trees turned into a life journey, and in the end I had written twenty-seven stories, each a different encounter yielding unexpected gifts of wisdom. They became a book (The Attentive Heart: Conversations with Trees), and when I gave readings, I found people eager to share their tree experiences with me for validation from a kindred spirit. I realized I had tapped into an ancient stream of tree wisdom-seeking, deep in my own druidic Celtic European roots.
Animals, like trees, can also be wisdom teachers. My students describe close relations with companion animals, sensing their empathy and lived wisdom in some unspoken way. Native peoples living closely with the natural world understand animals to be kindred spirits. For centuries various clans and tribes have aligned themselves with the spirit of Bear, Coyote, Wolf or Salmon. Through chants and stories, the teachings of the wisdom guides are kept alive in the culture. In my own early years as an environmentalist, I felt called to work on behalf of the great whales, sensing a wisdom power in these animals that should be protected. To come up right next to a gray whale in the calving lagoon and touch its skin was a life-altering experience for me. I wanted everyone to have this opportunity to be so close to such remarkable beings.
To call forth the wisdom teachings of animals, the Australian activist John Seed developed an experiential process that he called the Council of All Beings. 3 In these ritual workshops, council participants spend solo time seeking the guidance of a mentor from the natural world and then return to share the wisdom with the council circle. They temporarily assume the identity of their mentor (owl, snake, tree, moon) and speak from a different perspective. Later they resume their human identity and receive the gifts of the mentor, offering gratitude for the teachings. Thousands of people around the world have undertaken these councils and found significant insight from accessing animal wisdom.
Places can be teachers too, carrying the cumulative wisdom of all that has happened over time in a particular location. You can ask yourself: Which places speak most strongly to you ? Are you a forest person ? A desert person ? Are you a lake lover or river watcher? Which places have offered you wisdom and drawn you back again and again ? The wisdom places whose smells and sounds offer specific teachings that “fit” for you are the places most deeply entrained in your heart. We don’t always know why certain places feel so powerful or alive. As part of the tree journey, I traveled to Tuolumne
Valley in the high country of Yosemite National Park. I wanted to climb Lembert Dome again, both to visit the whitebark pines and to see the valley from this exposed monolith ofglacier-scoured gran' ite. The hike took on the air of pilgrimage as I climbed out from the forest onto the wind-blasted dome. The entire dome felt sacred as a landmark to many peoples before me, a geologic testimony to the frozen history of that land. I found my wisdom place on the sheared edge of the dome, looking straight down into big space.
Sacred places have been described by poets, shamans, psycholo' gists, and naturalists. We know each place to be a unique geography of landforms, weather events, and hundreds of criss-crossing paths of people, birds, winds, and insects over time. Specific places hold specific histories whose stories carry meaning from one generation to the next. What makes a place numinous or filled with wisdom energy is more than anyone could ever completely explain, and that mystery itself is a teaching.
Trees, plants, animals, places—I am naming these possibilities to illustrate the many options for green mentoring within the streaming field of wisdom in the great web of life. Zen Buddhists believe that stones and waterfalls are also vibrant with life force and history. A rich Japanese tradition parallel to the art of bonsai has developed around special stones of great energetic immanence (suiseki). At the Japanese Garden in Portland, Oregon, there is an arresting garden of seven stones placed in a raked sand field, sixty feet wide and forty feet deep. Every time I visit I want to stop and stay with these stones, listening, sensing: What are they saying? What is it about how they are placed? Why is it so compelling? How perfect it is and yet how inscrutable. Nearby a small creek tumbles through, coming to rest in a quiet pool. The light plays on the water, the waves push through each other in endless patterns delighting the eye. These elemental forms oflife energy—water and stone—call directly to the source materials from which we are made as human beings. Our limbic resonance is awakened and something big and true comes in. We listen through
our larger selves, we experience “self-realization” as Arne Naess describes, and in tasting this vast stream of life we open to the wisdom we are seeking.
Particularly strong experiences of this flowing wisdom stream could be called epiphanies, moments of powerful connecting insight that shift internal understanding to a new configuration. The Greek roots of the word mean “showing forth, manifestation,” a revelation of the world in a fresh way. Many people working with the environment have had such epiphanies, though most keep them as private moments, not often shared in public. One story well-known to environmental advocates is Aldo Leopold s dramatic epiphany after he chased a female wolf into a canyon and took her down. 4 In those days you shot at any wolf you could see. But as this wolf lay dying, Leopold looked into her wild green eyes and saw that the wolf was more than predator. She was mother, ancient one, traveler, a pan of the very mountains he loved. This experience was a significant turning point in Leopold’s ecological consciousness. To recall this famous epiphany, former Earth First! leader Dave Foreman concludes his talks by inviting his audience to join him in a long group wolf howl. The experience of an epiphany is different for each person, but it is often described as spiritual awakening, a sense of being “one” with the miraculous world and suddenly motivated to care for it with new fierceness. The experience itself becomes the teacher; the wisdom flows from full delivery of unexpected insight.
DON’T KNOW MIND
When I first came to the small Zen center in Santa Cruz, I had not met the teacher and had no idea what to expect. Fike most Westerners, my mind was Filled with ideas and projections about what a Zen master was, and I had an appetite for the exotic experience of meditation. When Kobun Chino walked through the door, I stole a
glance at him from my meditation cushion, wondering what he looked like. He seemed to glide across the floor barely touching the ground, a cloud drifting across the room. How did he do that? I was com- pletely mystified. Perhaps he was trained as a Zen novice to move this way, soundlessly, with empty mind. Perhaps it was his unique style. He seemed to move as if there was no barrier between him and the floor, or anything else for that matter. He was completely open, just arriving to whatever was happening. No separation be- tween him and others. I came to think of his walking as a manifestation of “don’t know mind,” a way of being present, not holding back, not coming forward.
Cultivating don’t know mind takes wisdom-seeking to another level of transformation. There are Zen teachings that reveal something about the teacher; there are teachings that reveal something about the world. Don’t know mind teachings reveal the student to the student, opening the door to new worlds of understanding. Most of the time we live within our own proscribed worlds—you could call them “flat” worlds—supported by others and held in place by accepted boundaries. Most of us have great fear of going anywhere beyond the familiar. The teacher who invites us to a more spacious realm is asking us to trust in don’t know mind and be willing to see something much more vast.
Is this part of the path of the wisdom-seeking environmentalist? I think so. Environmentalists are very good with ecological surveys, policy analysis, and citizen campaigns, but they can be as blind as anyone absorbed in their own small world. Ideals and passions often make for self-righteous proclamations and aggressive insistence on the environmentally “right” thing to do. Environmentalists have their own version of “flat” worlds, which keep them closed to different viewpoints. The daily frustration of battling with other positions and agendas is wearing; it produces insults and enemies that harden into histories. But there may be another way to approach this work that holds to don’t know mind. I might call this the gliding
path, the path that perceives no obstacles. Wisdom-seeking is then part of awakening to the Big Dance, everyone part of the grand improvisation, enemies and all. The environmentalist who pursues this path is less interested in anger and retribution and more interested in being present to the whole story. This can have very practical application in the everyday world. A situation can seem completely stuck, no solutions in sight, and then an opening appears in some completely unpredicted way. The practitioner of don’t know mind is able to spot the opening and follow it, leaving behind the trappings of defenses and political habit.
Certainly it helps to have a teacher point out the flat worlds that limit us. But physical practices can help too. Consider the patient fly fisherman waiting with no thoughts—what will come of each cast? Or the alert naturalist on a held survey, watching for both the familiar and the unfamiliar. In Buddhist traditions one of the most humbling practices of don’t know mind is bowing. Rita Gross, a feminist Buddhist scholar and teacher in the Tibetan lineage, describes her spiritual foundation practice of a hundred thousand prostrations, from full standing to complete floor extension, over and over again across many weeks. 5 She was told to visualize a large tree just beyond a small lake in a grass meadow, with all the gurus of her lineage sitting in the branches of the tree. The bowing was a way of expressing respect for the teachers and gratitude for the teachings, for the very opportunity to receive teachings. From a Western perspective, bowing can seem like a demeaning activity, surrendering to another person, “lowering” yourself feeling vulnerable. But this is not the point. Bowing is a relational action; it establishes a bond with the teacher and a willingness in the student. Like any practice, it must be taken up and experienced personally for you to know what it actually means. In her own way, forest activist Julia Butterfly Hill was deeply engaged in bowing practice with Luna, the old-growth redwood giant that held her in its branches for two full years. To prevent loggers from cutting down the tree, Julia had set up camp in
the redwood’s canopy. Friends brought her food under cover of night and helped her communicate her concern for the trees to the world. Bowing to rain, bowing to wind, bowing to loggers, bowing to the strength and wisdom of the old tree itself bowing to the story as it unfolded, the action became bigger than anything she ever planned.
The ultimate form of don’t know mind practice is sitting with death. This is not for the faint of heart. If you are already on the verge of despair over the loss of orangutans or polar bears, or your heart aches with the slaughter of forests, this may be difficult. You might think there has been enough death already, that the world’s precious ecosystems can bear no more destruction. Entering into don’t know mind may lead you into a bigger picture of death and life. As my mother lay dying from Alzheimer’s, taking her last breaths, I thought, lam sitting at the edge oj the gate. There was great openness there, great don’t know mind. I didn’t know what would happen, how she would pass over. Instead of feeling scary, it felt incredibly grounding. This was the whole view, the deep view—death as part of life, life passing on into new forms, life and death ever arising. Tak' ing this view can be very settling for the grieving environmentalist, who sees so much being lost on such a planetary scale. It becomes imperative to pass the teachings on, to see yourself as part of the uni- versal flow of vitality, doing your part and helping others who will follow after you.
THE REAL WORK
The wisdom'seeking process is not a single path nor a predictable path. As the Tao Te Ching states: “The way that can be followed is not the constant way.’’ The wisdom way is not a linear road one can hop on like a moving walkway at the airport. The way is open in all directions, no obstacles. It may not be what we think it is. It may not
be entered only through discipline or virtue. Some Zen teachers even discourage their students from taking the path too seriously, admonishing them to drop all aspirations. They might say, “Give up trying to make things better, just be your true self.” What does this mean ? What sort of awakening are we talking about in this wisdom- seeking?
The poet and Zen student Gary Snyder suggests that “the intention of training can only be accomplished when the ‘follower’ has been forgotten.” 6 Wisdom comes from seeing through the constructions of ego that keep us in our flat worlds and from waking up to the infinite universe, which is so much bigger than our small self- perceptions. Letting go of our small-self views, with the help of all the various teachers who come to us, allows us to proceed with what Snyder calls “the real work.”
The real work is what we really do. And what our lives are. And if we can live the work we have to do, knowing that we are real, and it’s real, and that the world is real, then it becomes right. And that’s the real work: to make the world as real as it is, and to find ourselves as real as we are within it. 7
The real work, then, is simply what is to be done. It is finding our way in becoming human, in fully engaging the world, in wrestling with all the impossibly gnarly problems that face us on this planet.
For those concerned about such matters, Snyder recommends a combination of clear intention, creative imagination, and good manners. Intention is how you remember you are interested in being awake in the middle of these hard times. Imagination is what he calls “the wild side of consciousness,” our small minds at play in Big Mind. 8 Good manners are the root of ethical behavior—not being rude to others (including nature) in thought or deed and not being careless or wasteful. Good manners also include expressions of “please” and “thank you’—and we can extend these to all our actions and relations
on the earth. Our teachers can help us learn such manners; the ani- mals and trees would be pleased to see more gracious behavior on our part.
Having confidence in our teachers is a way of building confi- dence in ourselves. It is a matter of trusting the process, trusting one s self and the world, and looking to the teachers for inspiration. Ultimately though, “teacher” and “student” are just roles we play, not fixed positions or people. Even as we see ourselves as students trying to find a wisdom path to help us, we are also being teachers for others. We are also extending a hand, sharing our experience, building confidence in others so they too can take up the real work of becoming human. The job for both teacher and student is to he willing to show up, to be available for whatever learning might happen. This sort of transmission is happening all the time in daily interactions with colleagues, family members, friends. We need each other, and all the other beings around us, to keep our inspiration charged. We have a long way to go. As Snyder says, “Stay the course, my friends.” 9
The real work is immense and intimate all at once. There are many places to begin. In the next three chapters I take up three fields of green practice that offer multiple opportunities for strengthening our intention. Each of these is crucial to personal and planetary sustainability. We must learn all we can about conserving and maintaining energy effectively. Likewise, we must manage the powerful hooks of desire to understand the penetrating grip of consumerism. And then we must find ways to practice peace as a foundation for sustainability. These fields of practice draw on principles of non- harming, being with the suffering, and engaging the deep view. They test our green commitment and lay out a path for us to follow in taking up the big questions before us.
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PART THREE
Acting on Green Values
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