In regards to the $700bn bailout plan failing (at least this time around), there’s this lovely little ecovillage in Northern Scotland – maybe it’s a good time to take a nice long vacation?

For those of you who don’t regularly wake up with a coffee and a dose of doom, check out news.bbc.co.uk – they have pretty darn thorough coverage in general (and of course further removed, physically and politically). If the address doesn’t work, just google BBC news, America’s in the headlines this week.

Love to all (and I’m serious about that vacation…)

Sept. 29 - This One’s for the Tree Huggers

People Huggers are welcome too.

It’s mind-blowing the impact that education can have. In the past few weeks the concept of sustainable living for me has gone from a healthy and wise option to what I perceive to be a necessity. I came into the program largely ignorant of the dire state our world is in – for example, the fact that we have used up all the natural resources needed to sustain the world’s population and are now digging into resources so deeply that the earth won’t be able regenerate them in order to keep us at the living standards we currently enjoy, let alone keep all of us humans alive and the swollen population growing at the same rate. An analogy I liked was the idea of the earth as an apple tree. For a long time, we picked the apples when they were available, and the tree grew more apples – it was more or less mutually beneficial, and certainly not devastating to the tree. Now we’ve begun digging into the trunk, and the tree’s capacity to grow apples is being diminished.

We are using oil faster than it can possibly be found, so unless we “change our ways” we will ultimately hit a huge oil crash; when our stores of oil run out and the oil we’re finding doesn’t even begin to support the life-styles we’ve grown accustomed to. You’ve probably heard this before, but if everyone on the planet consumed at the current rate the U.S. is consuming (food, products, electricity, etc, most of which is greatly affected by oil through transportation or otherwise) we would need 5 and a half earths to keep everyone alive. And that’s just the average. On average, an American citizen is using five and a half the amount of resources that would be allotted to him/her if we were to parcel out everything evenly. That’s pretty impressive.
And that’s just looking at the earth as a bundle of resources for human use. The truth is, humans are just one species on the planet. Our ability to self-reflect and our subsequent position at the top of the food chain (through agricultural, industry, technology, etc) may separate us from other species, but it doesn’t make us indispensable. We could literally wipe ourselves out by over-using what keeps us alive, but the earth will still be around. We don’t need to save the trees. We need to save ourselves (and keeping plenty of trees for the journey wouldn’t hurt…)

I heard that the earth goes through cycles of warmth and cold over massive periods of time (the age of dinosaurs and the ice age, for example). I wondered for a long time (admittedly without really searching for a solution) whether the warming that most scientists agree that we’re experiencing was just another natural cycle, or whether human emissions were significantly affecting our climate. I figured our emissions must have some effect, because it’s undeniable that we’ve been pumping more chemicals into the water and air in the last several decades than we have collectively in human history prior to 1900. Finally I was introduced to the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change), which has issued assessment reports in 1990, 1992, 1995, 2001, and the latest, “Climate Change 2007”. The reports indicate that human activity has indeed altered the climate beyond the natural cycles of climate, particularly in the last 50 years or less. (If you want to check out the IPCC, you can go to www.IPCC.ch. It was set up by the World Meteorological Organization and the United Nations Environment Program.) So I’m looking into tracking down actual excerpts from this report and into what the implications of human-induced climate change are – I know it goes beyond a few degrees a year – it affects the way crops behave (did you know that agriculture as a business in North America boasts the greatest use of fossil fuel, far outreaching even the total use of fuel in the U.S. military?), the way oceans and weather behaves (lots of prayers/thoughts going out to Texas!) etc. etc… I’m a baby in the world of science, agriculture, environmentalism, fossil fuels, human sustainability… the old adage about learning more and knowing less seems to be holding true… I feel more naïve and uncultured than I did before I ventured out again… I suppose that’s appropriate. May we never cease to encounter people/places/ideas that bring that familiar (albeit uncomfortable) flush of not-knowing-‘enough’.

One of the contradictions I see in this program is amount of work we’re doing in order to learn about the Human Challenge of Sustainability (the subtitle for our program). I acknowledge that a lot of work needs to be done (and quickly) to get the earth survivable for humans and that we as students have a crap-load to learn in a short period of time. What’s frustrating for me is my belief that part of living a sustainable life means slowing down, not burning out at age 35, taking enough time to actually see what needs to be done before moving on to the next task, taking enough time to appreciate the land we want to protect for our own good.
Through the lens of a college student, I do not feel that we’ve had an inordinate amount of work. But through the lens of a human being, I hope the “school work” we’re doing doesn’t interfere with a deeper sense of what it means to live a sustainable lifestyle on a very personal level.

I started writing thinking that the contrast between our work load and the idea of sustainable living was a problem inherent and possibly unavoidable in the program, but I think I’ll switch my paradigm to a more personally responsible one. If I want a balance between trying out a new lifestyle and soaking in some really good head knowledge, that’s what I should pursue.

I have really been attempting to bring a sense of self into everything I do. I’m trying to find a balance between my role and presence in the group and my own ambitions and desires; they do not always go hand-in-hand. Every farm we visit, every paper I write, is there for my own development, and I can take as much or as little as I want from each experience. I don’t have to do anything because the group is doing it, but doing something for the sake of being and learning with the group is as good an excuse as any.
This may sound obvious, but it’s something I can forget when I’m constantly identified as part of a group. I’ll only be taking myself home with me, and while this short-term family will always be a resource for me and I for them, it’s what I personally internalize that will last far longer.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER!!! (20? really?!?)

My family until December... Top row, L to R: David (our focalizer/leader), Leaf (the handy-man), Hannah (just came from studying in a Buddhist retreat center), Emma (our personal charismatic intern), and Stacie (the other focalizer/leader).
Middle Row, L to R: Mikaela (bakes cookies frequently), Tom (gardener/breadmaker/songwriter), some gorgeous young lady (laughs really loud), Callie (gives the best hugs), Dragonfly (was homecoming queen, now refuses to brush her hair), Ina (the "little sister"), Emily G. (digs sports and cooking), Abbi (knits constantly) Jake (likes beer and sarcasm)
Bottom Row, L to R: Samantha (can make me giggle uncontrollably and think until my head hurts), and Emily V. (seen below after shaving her head).


Findhorn's Big Apple.


Family members in their natural habitat.


My natural habitat.

September 22 - Going Bananas

Picture this: A bird’s nest, made of twigs and little paper mache eggs, is perched in the lonely old tree that rests in front of the library. Nestled among the eggs, a plastic toy airplane pokes its nose towards the sky.
Hanging from a branch just below the nest, a hand scribbled sign asks: “Where do you think all our brilliant ideas come from, anyway?”

One of the students in our group is quite enthusiastic about this sort of thing – it’s widely known as Guerilla Art. Her intention with this specific example was to draw onlookers’ attention back to nature as inspiration, even for our most sophisticated technologies – although any interpretation would have been just as effective. The idea behind Guerrilla Art can be to draw attention to a particular issue, to add beauty to the world, to break the monotony in day-to-day routines, to challenge the way others see certain aspects of the world, just to make people think, etc. etc… as long as it’s essentially anonymous and in a public area.

Our group got inspired after she gave her “guerrilla art” presentation, and we’ve decided to storm the community with bananas. We’ve got a giant traveling cardboard banana this week, to be followed by small bananas hanging from apple trees and a few of us in banana suits next Friday at the community dinner. And to top it all off, there’s a method to our madness, which we will describe in detail on our community bulletin board next Friday:

We discovered that Findhorn, renowned for its gigantic and plentiful vegetable gardens and admirable eco-friendly aims, has been importing bananas from Central America. And not just any bananas, but Dole bananas (Dole has some particularly unsavory political/environmental/human rights history, which I can share with you at a later date). Shocked and dismayed, we complained righteously for a few weeks, and then guerrilla art gave us a way to let the wider community know what was going on (the bananas are only for guests) and hopefully spark discussion and change through whimsy. I’ll keep you updated.

No, I don’t know who will be wearing the banana costume.

September 17 - A Quick Note

I am relying on the internet for the majority of my communication, but for those of you waiting for a promised postcard, here’s why nothing has come:

Tuesday: Four hour foray to Forres. Walked there and hitchhiked back in order to pick up postcard stamps & envelopes.

Thursday: Write postcards and a letter. Discover there’s no place to send international mail in Findhorn. Darn hippies.

Saturday: Walk 25 minutes to nearby village, find post office, discover it closed an hour before I got there and won’t open until Monday. The hours for the post office (which is oddly located inside a convenience store) are not posted and the convenience store attendant doesn’t know the schedule.

Monday – Friday: Not a blessed hour to spare.

Next Saturday morning: Arrive at the post office an hour before it closed last week. Am informed that it’s closed today due to a national holiday. Attendant hasn’t a clue as to the name of the holiday that has thwarted my plans.

Monday morning: 15 minute run to village at 8 am (with a cold, mind you). Post office doesn’t open until 9. Class starts at 9… you get the picture.

So I’m slogging through wind and rain and uninformed convenience store attendants to get 2 measly postcards and a letter to a few of the people I love… be patient, dear ones. I will (eventually) succeed.

September 12 - Field Trip

I think the folks here at Findhorn are trying to lure us in, to get us to love them so much we can't complain when they hit us with the tough stuff...

The first week we were here was our introduction to the community. This week was a transition between community life and academics. We still don't have homework. They told us not to get used to that, and then to soften us up before the weekend they took us to a whiskey distillery and then a cave on the shore. (They're also fattening us up quite nicely; it's amazing what these cooks can do with beans, wheat and vegetables.) They must be up to something.


We visited the Benromath whiskey distillery, which I actually thoroughly enjoyed. I think if I liked relaxation of the induced variety, whiskey would be a good way to do it. I wish I could tell you exactly what this large red "chimney" does, but isn't it magnificent to look at?



Two of my favorite new companions: Dragonfly (who told me a wonderful bedtime story to help me sleep last night) and one of our professors, David McNamara, both very happy to be at the distillery. I just love these pictures...


We got a tour of the inner workings of the whole place. We were shown how barley is made into malt and the malt becomes grist which is fermented and processed to produce a clear whiskey. This is where the evaporation comes in - the stills. (I hope you all appreciate the picture, it's the only one I could get inside the distillery before he told us that "yes, the signs on the wall that say 'no photos' apply to you too".)


Interesting Fact: all scotch/whiskey is initially clear as water. What gives it its color is the barrels, most of which are White Oak imported from the United States. The barrels in the U.S. are always used for 3-6 years to keep bourbon (often in Kentucky) before they're flattened and shipped to Scotland. The color of the bourbon combined with the vanilla flavor and color of the wood soaks into the whiskey, which can sit in the barrel for 5 to 50 years. Other barrels come from Spain and used to contain sherry. Mixing the bourbon and sherry whiskeys in different proportions (50/50, 80/20 etc.) gives Benromach its multiple variations.

As fascinating as I think this is, it's a little disheartening that a relatively small distrillery in the Scottish highlands has to import all its barrels, but our guide said white oak was the only kind of wood that would hold the whiskey the way they wanted it... it's still quite a shame.


Not so much of a shame, however, that it could keep me from taking part in the free samples we all received at the end of the tour. I am proud to say I finished my generous helping without incident, and tried it with and without water. I preferred it with. Don't I feel cultured.
(She didn’t have any whiskey, she’s just very tired. I promise.)

Afterward we went to a Scottish shore – I think the pictures speak for themselves.







Much love!

Elizabeth

September 8 - Many Thoughts

I have been struggling since I got here (well, I suppose since before I got here) with the fact that I am existing in a place so near a fairy-land, a place where food is abundant and shared, work is a place for fun and learning, learning applies to all aspects of self and not textbooks alone – basically that I have everything going for me, I’m in the land and the time of opportunity, and what the heck am I doing for the rest of the world? If there’s so much abundance here, why aren’t I sharing it with someone who needs it more? The practicality of this idea is a little unattainable, since everything here is more or less shared, but I did choose to come to a place where that was the case.

I have this idea that if I’m not contributing to the world, specifically the physically impoverished world, I am not living the life I know I can and want to live. However, I don’t know what exactly I can contribute to that “impoverished world”, aside from flinging money at it, which is part of the reason I’m here. And that sounds like a good answer to my question, but... things - well, emotions and convictions - still come up.

I was talking today to a young man I admire for his courage in pursuing his dream and talent of writing while he lives and works at Findhorn. I have always gotten a deep satisfaction and a thrill out of hearing about and encouraging people’s dreams, so I asked about his writing. He told it me that it was “like heaven here” (at Findhorn), that he was excited to explore other forms of writing while here, etc. etc, and at first I was so excited – I find it easier to get excited for others than I do for myself because I don’t need to exercise caution when I can see that someone would benefit from a little heartfelt encouragement, so the temperature in our conversation rose as we talked about literature, forms of sharing stories and poetry, all of which I’m passionate about, and on the wave of our excitement he expressed how perfectly his days fit in with his dreams – he was merely expressing how happy and fulfilled he felt, but I felt a figurative grey veil fall slowly over me, my face sank and my heart twisted and grew angry as I thought of all the human beings who will never even have the opportunity to witness, let alone experience, the joy that he was feeling.

And yet here I am, spending thousands of dollars on finding that kind of joy and prosperity – my only solace is that I know I need a set of skills in order to effectively bring prosperity to any part of the planet, and I am here to develop those skills with a heavy emphasis on compassion.

Help. How can I help? How can I be most effective in the world? I want to bring both life and quality of life to those around me – something to the effect of teaching a man to fish instead of handing him a fish… I don’t want to just teach rich people how to be happy, and I don’t just want to give food to poor people… and the frustrating thing is finding these things for myself so I can understand how to share them – a lifelong process, I know… but where do I start? I mean really start?

I guess that’s why I came here – and thank you for supporting me, I promise your love and resources will not be wasted.

Any thoughts…?

September 6 - Fabulous Field Trip

Today, avoiding academics for a precious few more hours, we hiked to the windmills (which are conveniently on the way to the beach).


These beautiful behemoths provide the energy for over 350 humans in our community, and often catch the shadows of the fighter jets and submarine detectors zooming noisily overhead... we share the area with the Royal Air Force, which provides a thought-provoking foil for this peace-loving community. The people behind both endeavors have always had a respectful, even kind relationship to one another, despite the conflict in interests...


Dragonfly (one of my housemates) at the base of one of the four windmills, all of which bear a colorful mural that reaches about 10 feet high.


The beach... shortly after thus picture was taken, all the bodies you see were deep in the Scottish sea, battling waves and hypothermia until the pleasant numb point was reached somewhere beyond the breakers... I told them if they thought this was cold they should try the Pacific :) I would have taken pictures but my body was one of the pleasantly numb ones.


Following our dip in the ocean, we saltily put together a beach creation out of spontaneity and appreciation for the materials and beauty around us... this is only the top, but it was one of my favorite pictures. One of these days we'll get around to some serious studying, but for now... thank God for playful spirits and a playground as breathtaking as this one.

September 2 - Findhorn Fun

Another full day at the Findhorn Foundation… the day started with a trip to “Rudolph’s Leap”, a large wooded area divided by the Findhorn (“White Goddess” or “Unicorn”) River, which is intersected by the Divvie (“Black One”) River. We spent an hour and a half wandering alone. Our leaders trusted that we would all be back at our meeting point on time even though only two of us had watches, (which tells you a bit about how this program is run,) and every one of us was back on time (which tells you a bit about the kind of people I’ve been hanging out with… if you figure exactly what it tells you, let me know.) Rudolph’s Leap is one of the most stunningly gorgeous and alive places I’ve visited (despite the cheesy name). I got to a point where I was almost giddy just watching a few spiders spin their webs, because every where you turned you were faced with undeniable beauty and diversity.
After a silent bus ride back to the community and a hearty lunch, I spent 2 hours shucking Broad Beans (half of which were sticky and rotten) at a table with a charismatic Irishman named Steve, my two fellow American workers, and a curiously straightforward Australian woman named Nikki, while a cheery German lady with too much blue eyeshadow (Sylvia) oversaw the kitchen and sang Coldplay in the background.
Side note: it turns out listening to the American band Steely Dan was how Steve learned to speak with an English accent. Judging by the results, I do not recommend this as a method.
In the evening we had a community leader take questions and speak to the group in a very informal setting about the structure of the Findhorn Foundation – how it was started, the decision making process, the local form of currency, schooling for children and young adults, etc. It was a refreshingly dry conversation. I didn’t once feel the need to consider my philosophy on life.
If anyone has questions about the structure/”government” of the community, how it’s run, money making, etc., please drop me a comment or an email – And if I don’t know the answer I’ll find out. I was very pleased that this was one of the first topics we discussed.

The week is going swimmingly. I’m being constantly challenged and finding out useful stuff about myself and others (as well as having a rockin’ good time on a regular basis) – and we haven’t even started academics yet. Yes, they were merciful enough to not hit us over the head with Jung vs. Freud or Applied Sustainability right when we walked through the doors… er, archway.

Much to come… much love to all.

September 1

I'll start dating my entries - our internet is on and off, so many entries may be late.

Today we had our first taste of work in the community. I chose to work in the kitchens at Findhorn for this week, along with a couple of other lady students. Upon entry to the kitchen we were greeted by two salty old kitchen chaps (well, they weren’t that old, but they were certainly wise) who gave us a tea break before we even started (to get to know one another), and gave us another 20 min. tea break an hour and a half later… this isn’t just a Findhorn thing, this is British thing… the entire community breaks for tea at least once or twice in the middle of whatever they happen to be doing. It does interrupt any momentum I might have had while working, but it’s never too hard to get back into the swing of things – and at least at the end of the day I’m not so burned out and wound up that I don’t know how to rest –As my friend Emily put it when they told us to break: “but I don’t know how to stop…” and she wasn’t joking. She is quite an intelligent person, but I had to tell her kindly to come wash her hands with me, she looked so much like a deer in headlights.
I hope to bring tea breaks back to the States (at least to my little corner). What a healthy habit – and not as ambitious as trying to bring siestas to the States (although I’ll never stop hoping for that one…)
Keep sending good thoughts and prayers, they’re much appreciated!!
Much love from Elizabeth in Scotland.