11 October 2007 – Seattle, Washington
…oh yeah, to reach there…
I wonder sometimes if the Cat Stevens thing is getting tired, but that song still cycles through my mind every day, and the words continue to reveal and focus, so I will stick with it for now, and trust that it’s something worth following. It feels like it is, and these days, that’s what there is to attend to… feelings, promptings, signs and portents and the voices of trees and chipmunks and chickadees and the songs that stick in our heads.
That said, it was another song that filled my head on the train from Portland to Seattle, the Cascades line, a bit of sixties psychedelia from Donovan: first there is a mountain then there is no mountain then there is. I finally got what that song was about. It’s about trying to see Mt. Rainier from the train, as you pass through trees and behind buildings and under bridges. Rainier is so big that it’s difficult to see. Sorta like the collapse of civilization, I guess. It was beautiful, there in the morning sun. I wish it were possible to hug a mountain.
Steve drove us into Portland and dropped us off at the station. We thanked him and said our goodbyes and wished him well, he and his beautiful kids. It would be so nice to return here one day, to reconnect, and to learn more about the land that Steve has come to love. But for now, we have to move on.
We boarded the train and settled in, reading and catching up on email and watching the mountains and rivers as we passed by. A short four hours later we landed in Seattle, and in the care of our next host, Glen, who drove us to his home for a bit of rest, and a marathon of laundry, with great conversation along the way. After a while Julia arrived home, and soon after that we headed out for dinner at Frida’s, before making our way to the church.
At the venue, a meeting room in another UU, we met up with Lori from the Hazel Wolf Environmental Film Festival, who helped organize the screening, and Rick, who masterfully handled the technical aspects, providing great picture and surprisingly great sound from some computer speakers… the same Logitech set I use at home. We knew that our time for discussion would be limited, as we had to be out of the church by 10 PM, so I walked around the neighborhood a bit, unsuccessfully searching for some space we could move to if people wanted to continue the conversation.
People started to come in. And come in. And then some more came in. The space filled. We grabbed more chairs from elsewhere in the church, all that we could find. Some took seats on the floor up front. The organizers had expected about forty souls. I think we had about 95. We said our quick hello. Rick hit play. I hit the lights and we were off.
Fifty people stayed for the discussion. We only had 30 minutes. We started with a pair-share and went from there, Sally asking for people to check in with their hearts and speak when they were moved to speak. There was an energy in that room that is difficult to describe. An excitement. A power. People are rightly quite disturbed, when they look closely and deliberately at the present predicament. And that, I think, is a good thing. I awoke a few days ago with this phrase in my head: What a Way to Go is designed to disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed (not original, but appropriate). I think we achieve both goals at every screening. And it is especially gratifying to bring comfort to those who are already looking, as many in Seattle are. When somebody comes up and tells me that they are so glad that we made this film, that they thought they were crazy, that they’ve felt all alone, then I know that I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.
Look up at the mountain… I have to climb…oh yeah, to reach there…
William Catton was there, he and his wife. Sally had remembered to pop him off an email just that morning. He got it and made his way right up from the Tacoma area. It was very great to see him again. He’s looking well, and happy. He’s a national treasure, as far as I’m concerned. If there’s one book I would have every member of this culture read, it is his book, Overshoot. He stayed for the discussion and spoke quite eloquently against wars of mass distraction and the absurdity of our political leadership. A smart, engaging, gracious, and very caring man, Bill Catton is. I wish him and his family the very best.
Ten PM came and we spilled out into the parking lot, we few who were left. There were a number of young people there, connecting with each other. Many are now active on Derrick Jensen’s forum and were glad to put names to faces and meet in the flesh. I am moved by the young people, these young souls who care so deeply for the planet, who have found their way out of the culture of make-believe, and into a new space of sanity and connection.
And we were moved by our hosts, Glen and Julia, more young souls trying to figure out what to do, where to do, who to be, in the face of what they so clearly see is coming. How I wish I had some good answers. But I don’t. Answers are as tied to place and situation and individual souls as is everything else. There is no one-right-way through this, no way to predict and plan and manage and control. There is only following your heart, and looking up to the sky, following a crow, perhaps, as it laughs overhead, or a squirrel as it leads you into the woods or across the stream.
There is only accepting that you are not on time, not in control, and then finding yourself, all of a sudden, surrounded by breaching whales…
Thank you, Glen and Julia, Lori and Rick and everyone else who came and watched and shared.
On to Bellingham.
Tim
October 12th, 2007 at 11:49 pm
Hey Tim, Sally
I’m now in Wisconsin with my wife’s family, and it’s a joy to be able to read your travel blog, while “stuck” here in heartland middle America in a small town with little evidence that people here understand how close business-as-usual change/collapse is….it’s like being in a bizzarre dream world, where the biggest joke is that Al Gore got the Nobel Peace Price, and those liberals sure can’t be trusted….and life gos on with high school home coming football tonight…
Regards
Ted
October 13th, 2007 at 3:57 am
Hey Ted,
Glad to hear you made it over. Always nice to have another pair of eyes on this insanity! The upside is that home will feel much more sane when you return!
Have fun, sir, and take care. I’ll look forward to hearing more about your adventures