Yarrow Meditation
I took up a quiet conversation about native verses non-native and wonder where we figure in. If we are separate as the humanist believes, at the top of the hierarchy that gets to name and order the others, study and draw and classify the others, actively eradicate one and promote the other, but in our own domain promote ourselves and eradicate the other, what hypocrisy! How can we know these things about our world and not apply them to ourselves? Willful ignorance, a built-in defense.
Invasive is our word for organisms that cause ecological or economic harm in a new environment where it is not native. Invasive species are capable of causing extinctions of native plants and animals, reducing biodiversity, competing with native organisms for limited resources and altering habitats. In human terms we'd call these colonizers, like the Europeans in the Americas. What is to be done about them? Will the starling pay reparations to the bluebird? Will the oriental bittersweet face the american bittersweet and stunt itself to make room? Will we ever find a balance without first studying ourselves? Or will the balance find us and come down hard?
In mid-October I hiked to Mine Ledges on Wantastiquet to read a book on Huang Po. As I crossed the Connecticut River, I spied my first patch of yarrow. Achillea millefolium! I knew it by its profusion of tiny, feathery leaves. Achilles used yarrow to treat his soldier’s wounds. It also lowers blood pressure, reduces blood clots and treats varicose veins. A week later, I found another patch on the road to Fort Drummer State Park. Now I have some drying.
It’s now mushroom season. The hills are rusty. I passed up a mild, dry week (would have been great for hiking) to search for yarrow. There is probably yarrow en route to Monadnock. Why am I reluctant to walk again? It is not an easy walk. There are few rewards. Few views. Clear-cuts in many forests. Gunfire. I am floating in a sac of no present, no past, no future. I tell myself I cannot let the pandemic keep me from moving through the pandemic. I must move through. It is 50F by day and 30F by night. They are calling for snow. Soon it will be outlandishly cold. Why won't I walk?
60 MEDITATIONS
Since Covid-19 hit, things here have been shut down and I have been involved in nothing. Then, out of the blue, in late October, I joined the Groundworks Collaborative fundraiser. I saw another artist doing it and it seemed like such a good idea and supports such a great organization. Groundworks runs a drop-in community center at 60 South Main Street. They support people who need shelter, housing support and emergency food. They host an annual fundraising hike up Mt Wantastiquet. This year, because of Covid, you can choose any activity, in repetitions of 60, to do on your own. I opted for meditation and set a goal of $600.
And so, to Mountain Tea, I've added sixty 60-minute sitting meditations, one inside and one outside everyday. I am on meditation #17 and have already met many new local friends: Teta, Kenny G, Willow, Echo, Azura, Michael, Geoffrey, Simon, Emelie. You do not have to live in Brattleboro to donate. I'd be happy for $5 or more from anywhere in support of Groundworks Collaborative. In the 10 months I've been here, I've seen Vermont lead with careful responsibility and innovation in both coronavirus and homelessness. Let's recognize the awesome actions of this critical organization.
