Arise, Year Three

IMG_1262

Morning after my third year at Arise music festival. Wake up congested from a damp three days, run hot water over my head, my hair, my body, twisting and shaking to move the phlegm. Notice some sadness, loneliness, feel words, music, and encounters slipping away and yet conjure up Nandhiji calling us divine beings, the plaintive singing of Doug Good Feather, the sonorous dreamlike music of We Dream Dawn inviting me to dance. Impressions of people expressing themselves freely in a kindly space, men wearing sarongs and women going topless, young bodies making music and art, expressing soft, strong, nurturing or challenging energy at will.   People of all colors mingling, dancing, singing, listening.

Each year I find parts of myself in this event in the foothills of Loveland, Colorado. The nature-loving girl who loves to dance beneath the sky, the childlike woman who loves to listen to others and discover spiritual kinship. The adventurer who longs to share her passion for life in community, the amateur philosopher asking questions about who we are, the injured woman looking to uncover her buried feminine instinct, the lover seeking to express gratitude and joy.   I don light prana t-shirt, nylon pants that dry quickly after rain, merino wool socks and minimal shoes. Pack some snacks, raincoat, and folding chair, and dive in.

Older than most at Arise, I nevertheless feel at home. The hippy in me, the embodied, outdoor loving young woman has never changed: My hair may be graying, but I can yoga and dance with most, can traipse the landscape, explore, engage, celebrate, and discover.

I learn about yogic energetics, herbal medicine, making podcasts. I pull out of the crowd, enter Sunrise Dome and watch a movie about Standing Rock. I listen to director Josh Fox and producer Doug Good Feather talk about a movement encompassing the pipeline, Black Lives Matter, and others, a people’s movement, a stand for nature, clean air and water, justice. Fox speaks directly and forcefully about his travels throughout the country learning about the devastation of fracking, being a Bernie surrogate, making documentaries. We, the people, he says, are not as divided as we might think or as we might glean from the media. We would have voted for Bernie, a plain-speaking politician who supports people and the earth. Most of us, says Fox, reject the neoliberal-corporate way. I believe him.

Indeed. I believe that if we listen to Trump supporters, the alienated, especially the ones that voted for Obama, that longed for a shakeup in Washington, we hear people talking about good jobs, people who want decent healthcare, food, water, and community. Listen to the ranchers affected by fracking, the people of Flint Michigan deprived of clean water, the disaffected coal miners and other blue-collar workers. Listen to what the Democratic party said versus what we wanted, and remember Bernie’s words about the rich hoarding the wealth, about providing universal healthcare and ending fracking. Talk about a shakedown in Washington.

What I hear in Arise, from the name to the values expressed there (kindness, care for one another, treading lightly and cleaning up after ourselves), the clarity in the song lyrics about our situation and our need, the opportunity to connect with Native peoples, to practice yoga and qigong and other energy practices, the chance to learn about herbs and permaculture and about activism—is about supporting awakening and connection. Three days of meeting, supporting, celebrating, and learning. You can go simply to party, but most of us go for community, Spirit, and fuel for both daily living in insane times as well as for our activism.

I go to awaken my body and spirit, to find a launching pad. Arise as a whole provides that base: Revisit our natural joy, it says, our love for life, for each other, and for the earth. Glean wisdom for the journey from Nature and other teachers such as indigenous people, yogis, and activists who help us remember who we are and why we are here.

Nandhiji tells us we are divine beings capable of higher consciousness. Each day, he says, honor your mothers and fathers and the divine energies within you. Be your powerful, loving self. Josh Fox presents our work: Know that it is up to us, the people, to speak up for life. Connect with the spirit of Standing Rock, he says. Become a protector.

Stand up, stand for

asters

On inauguration day 2017, Greenpeace hoisted a banner behind yet above the White House that said “Resist.” I loved the boldness of the act and the way it “welcomed” the new administration to Washington. At the same time, the Indivisible movement was building, and they too adopted the term Resist as they began to challenge Trump’s agenda using the old Tea Party strategy of showing up to Congress member town halls and making themselves heard.

I identified with the word and its implications in these times when civil rights, healthcare, and nature are assaulted, and yet something about the concept left me feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it was the voice of a friend from some environmental activism quoting Carl Jung in saying “What you resist persists.” Or maybe it wasmy exposure to the stance of nonviolence advocated by Ghandi and King and my admiration for the Zen Peacemaker approach, which stresses “not knowing,” “bearing witness,” and “compassionate action.” Perhaps my discomfort stemmed from my concern that the challenge is so daunting and comprehensive that I wouldn’t have the energy to resist, to fight, for years to come. Maybe it was the fact I’d been on the losing side as corporate interests bowled over citizen stances in my own small Colorado city.

And yet I wanted to be out there with marchers, standing for all I hold dear.   I wanted to focus on what I was for, to “stand up.” I wanted to hold a stance that reflected my love for life, my passion for nature and for justice, one I could hold no matter what happened out there on the streets or resulted from the sea of influences converging in our out-of-balance world. In the midst of the turmoil and breakdown occurring I knew what I stood for, and I knew many others did too. Regardless of party, race, religion, or region, regardless of stance even on climate change or immigration, most want clean air and water, good healthcare, opportunities for meaningful work, politicians who listen to their constituents. We can start there I thought, find these values we hold in common.

Recently I heard a podcast in which The New School at Commonweal featured mythologist Caroline Casey. Casey noted that Resist is a basic, elementary concept for concerned citizens. She praised the Standing Rock movement and its ability to set a stage and tell a story for what they were standing for, and she noted that instead of calling themselves “protestors,” a word which, she says, means “grab them by the balls” in LATIN, a word that connotes fighting against. I looked “protest up in Merriam Webster to verify, and I found it means to assert publicly, “assert” coming from “testare” or “testis,” which means “witness.” I love that the people at Standing Rock, that Native peoples, call themselves “protectors” of the land, water, people.   The thousands that visited or inhabited Standing Rock emphasized their interdependence with the river and chanted “water is life.” They told the story of how Native women were protectors of the water, and how the people know their reliance on water and treat it with respect.

Their stance, their peacefulness, and the unity of so many tribes made an impression on many American youth who traveled to be part of the move to protect water and to acknowledge our connection with it. It captured the imagination of war veterans, of Christian clergy members, of Buddhists and Hindus.

Those protectors modeled for me how to express my love for nature and my conviction that we must treat her well. They showed me how to stand up, how to stand for, what I love and cherish in this life. They reminded me that we actually are one with the land, dependent on clean water and air, and on each other. I now remember and know clearly what I stand for: Respect for nature, and respect for all God’s creatures, human and animal. A just and moral society in which we care for one another and engage in practices and ceremonies that honor creation, that tame our minds and egos and help us remember who we are and of our interconnectedness. A society of people always learning to be humans fitting of the name.