I greatly underestimated chickens when I first came to Bedlam Farm. I thought of them as dumb and dirty. But living with them has altered and deepened my view of them and respect for them. Chickens are industrious, purposeful. They are adaptable. They are peaceful, generally. Yesterday two of the hens walked right over to Red and started pecking at his coat. He looked at them in surprise, but accepted the intrusion. I have a considerable respect for chickens.
The last time I felt caught between two animals in a difficult way was when Frieda came to Bedlam Farm, and she and Rose tried for some time to drive one another off. I thought Frieda might kill her – Rose did not ever back down. I did not imagine these two powerful women would ever be able to live together in peace. After months of hard and determined work, they did. I would often see these two wonderful working dogs sitting out together in the yard, side by side, a deepening camaraderie. And a testament to patience and determination.
Now I am between two animals that I love once more, Simon and Rocky and the circumstances more complex, the solutions more difficult. Horses are not dogs, donkeys aren’t either. This farm is not that one, and Maria and I are talking and thinking about what to do. She wrote about it beautifully on her website today. Many people think Maria and I have different views on animals – that I am the man-with-a-hard-ass- attitude and she is more saintly. The truth is far from that. She is plenty tough, we are totally in sync on all of the animal decisions we make, and we make them together, as we have from the beginning. Maria and I are different, but we see our lives and the world in the same way.
As always, we have been deluged with advice and opinions, little of either useful or relevant to us. We are not looking outside of ourselves for solutions and answers, but to one another, and within. Some of you know the way I make moral and ethical decisions – I follow Hannah Arendt’s dictum. The person I have to please is me, it is about respecting myself, not following the feelings of other people.
I will be honest, as I always try to be. I am in a hard place. Simon and I have been through ecstatic experience together, both of us back from the dead, and Rocky a spirit creature who brought us to our new home and opened us up to the wonder of a blind animal who sees everything. There are no good solutions. Simon is not leaving, and Rocky is too old and infirm to go anywhere. Even without his troubles with Simon, he is weakening and struggling. He is 34 years old. Our lives with animals have always been about love and connection, not separate camps who can’t live together. There is no sign that Simon will let up in his determination to drive Rocky away from the herd. Simon is being a donkey, and that is his Dao. Rocky wants no trouble, hei just hanging on, and that is his. There is no simple way to separate them permanently or reasonably on this farm, certainly not heading into a winter that is already off to a daunting start.
We love both of these creatures in very special ways. Simon opened me up. Rocky led me into the next chapter in my life. They are both extraordinary creatures, each in their own way. They speak to the nature of life, and its often ruthless and relentless way. They both are where we have been or are going.
At the moment, we are running a kabuki kind of operation, switching animals, feed and water around all day, figuring out access to shelter in storms, protecting Rocky without imprisoning Simon. It works for now, but it is not a permanent solution. So we watch it, think about it, talk about it together, which is a blessed sweet thing about my life, to have somebody like that to talk to about things like this.
I will share the experience, as always. I will be honest, as always. I am not seeking advice, as always, and I respect the feelings of the people who love our animals, but this is our decision to make and we will make it together. Sharing it is not the same as giving it to others or taking a poll. You can see how this has replaced thought in our political system.
Many people fear sharing their decisions on the Internet, as it is not a gentle or always civil place. I am not afraid, it is a stepping stone to my awakening, to my life as a writer, to my continuing evolution into a humane and authentic man.
Hard places are hard, but they are also opportunities. To grow, to find truth, to define one’s life.
This week, I’m launching my color campaign. For people entering the winter. For people suffering from Sandy. For people who watch the news. For people who are afraid. For people who are following the political campaigns. For people who demonize other people. For people who are angry. For people who think the world is an awful place and is getting worse all the time.
I also want to share my decision not to vote in the presidential campaign tomorrow. This is, to me, a form of conscientious objection. During the Vietnam War, I began the process of declaring my life-long opposition to war by declaring myself a conscientious objector. I lost the will to finish that process for various reasons and have regretted it ever since. The political campaign process has become an accumulation of things I do not believe in – war, corruption by corporate money, the degradation of political dialogue into attack and distortion, a refusal to help heal a grieving Mother Earth, the abandonment of the poor and the needy, the wanton misuse of technology by a greedy and corporatized media, the invasion of big money into a process meant for individual citizens, an assault on teachers, librarians, government workers, culture. It is not one candidate or one party, but a system that no longer serves me or my values. My list is longer, but my intention is not to write about politics, or argue my decisions or to persuade anyone else to do what I am doing.
If I were to chronicle one of the most sacred elements of the American spirit, it would be the pursuit of individuality, another idea I believe has been corrupted by this political process. I will not fit myself into the left or the right, or label myself a liberal or conservative, or accept other people’s characterization’s of me, or see the world in such narrow and mind-shrinking terms. I am not comfortable in a system that billions of dollars on attack advertising while we toss teachers and librarians out into the streets and people in need of help do not receive any. It seems the definition of immoral to me. My candidate – one who will speak out against this process and these values and decline to participate in it – is not out there yet, and neither is a political party I would wish to belong to.
An integral part of this kind of civics is the demonizing of opponents and people with differing views. For weeks I have heard people tell me the country will be destroyed if President Obama wins re-election, or if Mitt Romney does. I don’t know anyone who is following the process or participating in it who is not angry or disturbed. The process does not, to me, elevate the civic spirit, but degrades it. I am not comfortable participating in it.
The political leaders I have admired in my life or in history would not, I believe, participate in this process either. As always, I am not looking to persuade anyone else to stay away from the polls, nor do I wish to argue my decision. I have already received many messages from good and well-meaning people urging me to vote, and making all the many good arguments for doing so. But I have examined my own conscience, looked in my own mirror, and I would not respect myself if I affirmed this process or enabled it. My politics will continue to go into my hospice work, my writing, my work with animals, my search for love and connection, my photography and my search for a meaningful life.
For me, politics has become personal, individual, and on a smaller and coherent scale. I respect the decisions of others and wish them peace and compassion. A good friend listened to my feelings and told me she disagreed with me, as she was going to vote, but she saw in me a conscientious objection she respected. She helped me clarify my feelings.
This time, I won’t lose my will. The values I wished to stand up for before are even more pressing now. It is, after all, a question of how I wish to live my life.
