NATURE’S WISDOM

The Gentle Buzz of Wild Things

My mind leaps from my own distress to American politics and American farming. And through it all, poetry heals.

Today, I read a poem by 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘊. The title struck me like lightning. “The Growl in My Throat.” The picture spoke to me, too. A wolf hiding. Is he curious? Or watching prey?

I feel the growl in my own throat getting stronger and stronger these days.

What a world! What a mess!

And also, what an opportunity for all of us, people, to take a stand and be wise and supportive. Speak our truths in an inclusive way.

But how I feel the fear coming up in my throat if I try to do just that.

Remembering

“Does no one remember we’re stardust?” — Diane says in her poem.

Yes! I do remember! But how can I use that knowledge to unleash some change into this broken world?

Yesterday, I was not my best self. I have my moments. And in a meeting, I felt so much resistance and grudge and irritation to someone, I let my heart become clouded and my words become limiting instead of expanding.

And all that I said in this story about feminine leadership, flew away on a breeze. I’m not perfect after all. Who’d have guessed?

What compassion? What unconditional support? What inclusivity?

Yesterday was not my day.

This specific project, which deals with building small off-grid houses and food forests in an area that has so far been dedicated to large scale farming, gets under my skin.

There is so much resistance from municipalities and neighbors. So much internal tension. And always the money issues get the upper hand. Clashing worldviews. Clashing personal interests. And all the while we are trying to build a new reality.

I should have known better and remained silent. Let the flow take its course if I cannot speak supportive words.

American Politics

And then, this morning, I read two stories about America.

This is one of the very true rants from umair haque about American politics. He has a wise point of view. We need to change society! But what kind of new reality will take its place?

Apparently Umair reads my work. He mentions me in this story. But I also don’t have the answer, Umair. I share your view on the problem, though.

“We don’t know how to share this planet. With the animals. With the forests, oceans, rivers, reefs. With each other. With our kids and grandkids. We walking apes don’t yet have the values and mindsets of coexistence.”

— Umair Haque

But I don’t know what is the right way to go. I think it’ll depend on the local culture. And the local ecosystems.

“Those ways, too, give us an inkling of a very different future. Is the future African communalism? Is it Chinese techno-social-utilitarianism? Is it — as many of us have long thought — European social democracy?”

— Umair Haque

So the only answer I have is: find your own local model. With your community. Mindfully, inclusively. Wisely.

Using everything you have around you to fulfill your basic needs. Grow your food with regenerative agriculture and use fast-growing crops, such as bamboo, industrial hemp, and thistles to design your products.

Or use carefully designed waste streams to create synergy in the business models and build new economies that create real value for all species.

And embrace diversity big time.

American Farming

And then I read this shocking piece by Chris Newman.

Even America’s favorite farmer, Joel Salatin, apparently lost his way.

My personal experience is that permaculture is not always as inclusive as I would want it to be. There is not always enough space for women to do it in their own unique ways. And I also know that indigenous people don’t always feel at home in permaculture communities.

Sad, really.

Permaculture borrowed so much wisdom from indigenous cultures. And now we, westerners, hijack their wisdom and don’t make indigenous people feel at home in their own teachings.

We have really lost our way. All of us.

I don’t know if it’s the unrest in the world. Or the big waves of polarization and oppression. But apparently we don’t know how to be inclusive anymore.

Mother Nature knows. She thrives on biodiversity.

And now even the people celebrating this biodiversity do not know how to celebrate human diversity.

The growl in my throat is eating me. Grrr…

I don’t know it anymore. I’m lost.

Poetry Heals

And as always, in times of distress, poetry feeds me.

I read the poem of 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘊. again.

One other line stood out for me.

“Longing for the gentle buzz of wild things” — Diana C.

Yesterday, I published a story about Rewilding My Soul. It was written as an answer to Jenine Bsharah Baines.

Here is one of her stories. I can see the wild woman shining through.

“But, by then, the boxwood nearby had begun croaking. Make the leap, I heard. Make the leap.”

— Jenine

So now, I’m longing for a gentle buzz before I can make big leaps again.

Wild doesn’t have to be big and loud and overwhelming others.

Wild can be a bee pollinating our apple trees.

I go to the sauna today. Have a good soak, swim, float in a saltwater basin, and reflect. Let my body become so relaxed that I can hear the wind whispering wisely in my ears again.

See you sometime soon and we’ll talk again about economies that are aligned with ecology and the human spirit.

The latter needs finding first.

Happy reading. Happy transitioning.

And if you want to connect, you can find me somewhere in the world, changing our economies into life-supporting systems for all species…

Always welcome to connect. Here are my platforms: LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, ManyStories or my website.

© Désirée Driesenaar