Sunday, 25 April 2021

Earthworms




I’m enjoying seeing the robins proudly perching on my fence. The robins are enjoying seeing worms out on the grass -- and they’re very proud of their catches. The circle of life continues.

Some of my early childhood memories involve my older brother collecting buckets of worms for a fishing expedition. The image of these worms, pink and slimy, writhing around in the bucket, was disturbing. I didn’t like the worms, but I was sorry to think of them being fastened on hooks as bait for fish. The fish too were soon to die, of course. More circle of life stuff.

There are many ways in which worms can make one uncomfortable: the pallid, slimy look of them, the way they squiggle, their underground nature. Some therapists suggest that in dreams worms symbolize negative feelings of degradation or weakness. In everyday life, worms have unpleasant associations: when we die, we become food for worms; a difficult problem becomes a can of worms; unethical people worm information out of us, or worm their way into things. Wormy food is infested or damaged. Wormy people are weak, unpleasant or untrustworthy.

But recently I’ve encountered other ways of looking at worms. Gardeners delight in worms and have always known about their importance. Growers study composting techniques, and sometimes have been known to buy worms. You can buy them by the pound or inch at a store near you, or you can order online.

My friend Al McWilliam, a Vancouver artist, says “Worms are the ultimate transformers: they take waste and turn it into something valuable.” Inspired by the transformative contributions worms were making to his compost, Al took photographs of worms burrowing through his compost and made large prints of the results. These photographs have been shown io various settings and about five years ago they were turned into signs with the text “Development Permit Application,” under the auspices of Other Sights, as part of Vancouver Western Front’s multi-site exhibition called “Urgent Imagination:”

ttps://www.vancouverisawesome.com/courier-archive/news/worms-inspire-mount-pleasant-art-exhibition-3020340

The exhibition encouraged viewers to reflect on what development means and to consider the kind of development that is taking place underground, not just the rapid development above. As part of the exhibition, Meredith Quartermain read a poem about worms called “How to Remember.” In it, she asks, “Earthworms who eat rotting leaves in temperate forests are invasive species, but Homo sapiens who burn down forests for hamburger farms are creating wealth?”

http://urgentimagination.front.bc.ca/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/How-To-Remember-Meredith-Quartermain.pdf

Al says he sees the worms as “kind of beautiful and elegant,” which would be a stretch for me, but I have to acknowledge that they do valuable work. In fact, as world-renowned Canadian scientist and humanitarian Ursula Franklin has pointed out, they present a useful model for social change and development:

“Social change will not come to us like an avalanche down the mountain,” she said. “It will come through seeds growing in well prepared soil – and it is we, like the earthworms, who prepare the soil. We also seed thoughts and knowledge and concern. We realize there are no guarantees as to what will come up. Yet we do know that without the seeds and prepared soil nothing will grow at all… we need more earthworming.” (For more on Ursula Franklin, read her book The Real World of Technology based on her CBC Massy Lectures.)

Maybe the pandemic has presented us with the critical need for earthworming, not just in the creation and cultivation of gardens, but in thinking about how we might prepare the soil for social change. What seeds of thought and knowledge and concern could we be planting as we emerge from our isolation? Like it or not, this is a time of change, so let’s keep up our earthworming, preparing the soil and choosing the seeds that matter.


Sunday, 11 April 2021

Good Work





 Fifty years ago, E.F. Schumacher wrote a book called Small is Beautiful: A Study of Economics as If People Mattered. It combined thoughts about environmentalism and economics in a way that challenged what Schumacher called “gigantism” and the philosophy of “bigger is better.” In it, Schumacher proposed that the economic system was dehumanizing and that big organizations destroyed the satisfaction people could enjoy from good work. A number of Schumacher’s lectures were later summarized in Good Work, which was published after his death. 

During the 70’s, both books were hailed as influential and they prompted discussion about globalization and sustainability. At the same time, slogans such as “Zero Population growth,” and “Think Global, Act Local,” were popular. References to Schumacher’s writing declined in subsequent decades, but recently there has been a new interest in his ideas:

http://ceconforum.org/2019/02/18/reading-e-f-schumacher-in-2019/

https://centerforneweconomics.org/publications/e-f-schumacher-he-taught-us-to-build-bridges-and-plant-trees/

Although he would likely have been discouraged to see that the model of production has not changed and the profit motive has not lessened, Schumacher would certainly be pleased about the increased focus on the environment and he’d probably be delighted to see the interest in community gardening and home gardens. A recent study shows that the pandemic has caused many Canadians to create or expand home gardens: https://www.dal.ca/sites/agri-food/research/home-food-gardening-during-covid-19.html.

This year, several people I know developed a new interest in gardening. Some who lack outdoor space have started growing plants on their balconies or patios. Others have expanded their gardens and also built greenhouses. Many say that gardening is what’s keeping them sane during increased Covid numbers, uncertainty, restrictions, and lockdowns. These gardeners seem to me to be the happiest people I know. And they don’t mind getting their hands dirty!

Which reminds me of a recent poem that inspires me:

Ode to Dirt

by Sharon Olds

Dear dirt, I am sorry I slighted you,
I thought that you were only the background
for the leading characters—the plants
and animals and human animals.
It’s as if I had loved only the stars
and not the sky which gave them space
in which to shine. Subtle, various,
sensitive, you are the skin of our terrain,
you’re our democracy. When I understood
I had never honored you as a living
equal, I was ashamed of myself,
as if I had not recognized
a character who looked so different from me,
but now I can see us all, made of the
same basic materials—
cousins of that first exploding from nothing—
in our intricate equation together. O dirt,
help us find ways to serve your life,
you who have brought us forth, and fed us,
and who at the end will take us in
and rotate with us, and wobble, and orbit.

 

Sharon Olds is an American poet who is worth reading Check out her website: https://www.sharonolds.net/biography

Many poets have written about the importance of gardening. Margaret Atwood is frequently quoted as saying, “In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” May Sarton said, “Gardening is an instrument of grace.” Then there is 18th century poet and artist Minnie Aumonier’s memorable line, “When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden.” That seems particularly appropriate just now.

But, thinking of Schumacher’s writings and the need to recognize the beauty of a smaller world, I’m reminded of Voltaire’s Candide. Searching for the “best of all possible worlds,” Candide travels from country to country witnessing and experiencing horrendous hardship, misfortune, cruelty and painful disillusion. Finally, he settles on a small farm and sets to work. The final words of the novel are “il faut cultiver notre jardin" -- we must cultivate our garden.

It looks like a lot of people are doing just that. It’s hopeful!