Miracle March

It was truly a “Miracle March.” After several dry months, winter finally arrived, unleashing storm after storm upon the Sierra. For days, delicate little flakes fell from above and collected like woolen tufts atop the pines and fir. The granite walls of Yosemite Valley sparkled in the sunlight as sheets of snow swept across their rough surfaces. My field of vision was filled with hope as the glistening promise of water covered the parched earth. As if, for a morning or two, everything was washed clean and made new. The Merced River rushed and roared, “There will be water for the dry months ahead!”

I have been collecting seeds of hope, and I wanted to share them in case you’ve been searching for signs yourself. Like the Lupines and Poppies bursting from the hillside outside my bedroom window: I am digging my roots deeper each day and greeting the future with openness.

I am pleased to report that U.S. District Judge Alsup has blocked the illegal termination of employees at certain federal agencies, including the NPS. Meaning, some folks here in Yosemite have been asked back to their jobs! In other cases, individuals have been reinstated, but retroactively placed on administrative leave, and their futures remain uncertain. This glimmer of hope is tempered with the knowledge that the future holds reductions in force at every federal agency BUT, it turns out that our marching and noise making has been effective. Effective and cathartic. Don’t you forget it!

Another heartening sign came to me from the Bus Stop, which I should mention up top, is not an actual bus stop. A three sided shack at the edge of a nearby park, the bus stop serves as a makeshift donation center where folks leave clothes, books, and random wares which are due for a new life with another person. From the bus stop, I have acquired an unparalleled collection of crop tops, ill-fitting sweaters, and books. Most recently, I picked up a book by Anne Lamott with a funny stain on its elegant white exterior—I sure hope that brown spot is chocolate!

Lamott’s timely words reminded me, “The stories we have loved beginning with our earliest days are how we have survived, grown, and not ended up in gutters…These stories have saved us…” Friends, I have absorbed and crafted a lot of wonderful stories lately. I recently completed a course on essay writing, and truthfully, I surprised myself. Big stories that have coalescing inside me for decades came pouring from my mind and fingers. Writing has been an indispensable tool in these harrowing times. As Lamott described, “Writing breaks the trance of our belief that the world is going to hell and a handbasket, and that we need to protect ourselves and our families at all times. The right story can show us how to lighten up. If we tread lightly, hold life lightly, we can look around more bravely without blinders on.”

I believe in the bus stop as sincerely as I believe the sun will rise each morning. It is a powerful little institution that demonstrates my community’s proclivity toward sharing, thrift, and repurposing our materials together. It’s a testament to the economics of abundance and an innovative solution to a collective problem (the absence of a thrift shop in the middle of the mountains). Not to mention, it is a labor of love and it demands work! My neighbor, Pinky, is the chief caretaker of bus stop. It is an informal position that requires impeccable judgement, constant vigilance, and a lot of folding. Every time I arrive to the bus stop and see the floor freshly swept, or the clutter carefully removed, I say a silent prayer of thanks to Pinky for keeping my favorite little landmark in good working order. It takes a village. I know there are many little bus stop fairies out there, and if you are one, please accept my deepest thanks.

On the topic of abundance, a new friend named Mary recently launched a campaign to collect aluminum and glass recyclables. She pasted posters around town with a simple message: “Let me take your recycling to the bins, I want your cans!” She turns these resources into cash, and periodically sends her profits into the pockets of those that need it. I am so happy to assist with her efforts and I like being a small link in the chain of Mary’s can-collection mission. This is just one small example of mutual aid and skill sharing that I have encountered recently.

My dear friend Katie kindly gave me a handful of drought resistant heirloom seeds: melons, beans, tomatoes—oh my! Last weekend, I planted them in my neighbor’s raised beds where they will be safely guarded from bears behind a fence constructed mostly of old skis and the occasional wooden plank (don’t worry—it’ll hold). As I shed my gloves and stuck my hands in the soil, alongside my neighbor Meredith, I recalled so many memories of those who taught me how to grow and harvest. I look forward to plucking out weeds as I patiently await for Mother Earth to perform her magic. In the meantime…

March signals the start of CSA season! Raw Roots, a nearby farm in the western foothills, is starting up its community supported agriculture program for the summer season. If you are not familiar with this format, this is how it works: I pay a modest fee to the farm and then heaps of produce materialize on my porch (where I set out a cooler) each week. Raw Roots is another one of those institutions that is saving the land and saving my soul, one tiny seed at a time. This model—organic, local, full of love and sweat—is precisely the sort of practice that illuminates all that can be accomplish when we work with our neighbors instead of against them.

Speaking of neighbors, my community has been mobilized. This nurtures my optimism on a daily basis. Whether convening together to make art and write our representatives—or calling their offices with the insistence of a jilted lover—I have gleaned many insights and shared so much laughter with my friends (who are oh so bright and clever). We have campaigned against DOGE’s fraudulent crusade of “cost saving” so effectively that our congressman Tom McClintock, who is a chronically misinformed Musk cheerleader, has cancelled his town halls and public appearances in his district. Needless to say, he is afraid to face his constituents after advocating for tax cuts for the rich while pillaging programs that serve working class Americans. Consequently, I have witnessed local businesses and historically conservative voters souring on their incumbent representative.

In a recent OnBeing interview, Adrienne Maree Brown spoke about the importance and difficulties of “practicing democracy” in our daily lives. For instance, how often do we deliberate openly about issues in our households? Or in our workplaces and or neighborhoods? Or, by contrast, have we grown accustomed to authoritarian leaders? Have we been conditioned to accept a situation where power is concentrated by a single individual who rules the majority by force?

Brown said, “We haven’t been practicing democracy for a long time. We’ve outsourced almost every aspect of governance. All that we’ve held on to is complaining.” Imagine: many of the problems we face at the grassroots level can be resolved, or prevented, with communication and a willingness to work together. Providing everyone the opportunity to have a voice in their own governance is the heart of democracy. From her experience as an organizer in electoral politics, Brown shared, “We think that if we just win the presidency, then we’ll be able to change the world…but [America] is a fractal system. It’s layer on top of layer, on top of layer. If none of us are practicing democracy, it’s not going to suddenly ‘work’ because we’ve changed the top layer.”

You know what will really change the world? Deepening our understanding of and relationships with our neighbors. That, dear friends, is how we change the world. I’m working on it, folks, but I’m not sharing all my secrets just yet! You’ll just have to wait and see.

Blessings be upon you, and may you find joy in these frightful times.

Quotes lifted from Anne Lamott’s book Almost Everything: Notes on Hope and OnBeing’s interview with Adrienne Maree Brown which I have linked for your own enjoyment.