Paper. White. Yes, please! An Invitation to take note.

Every year, on Groundhog’s Day - around the time of Imbolc and Candlemas -  I restart my phenology notebook.  Much like a candle, this practice of dedicating a few minutes a day to giving nature my full attention has usually burnt down to a self-extinguished nub by the end of the calendar year.  I used to blame the winter holidays for their time thievery.  Then, I started to curse the darkness and cold for that same trick.  Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the wisdom of deep hibernation and what it feels like to truly let every leaf fall to the ground and abandon every practice  - even the healthy ones - for just a brief season.  I’ve learned firsthand that it creates longing.  The kind that inspires poetry.  And love notes.  So much so that now, just as the paperwhites are pushing up, I feel the excitement, “Paper.  White.  Yes please!”  It’s with fresh enthusiasm that I grab my phenology journal and open to a new page… a new year.

“Oh! I’ve missed you!”

I am exclaiming that to both my journal that sits in front of me and the women that I am writing this to - the ones that I ever wish would be sitting in a circle right here and now with me.  It is a new year indeed and I’m eager to “go for it” with some embers I’ve been poking around in last year’s ash.  Here’s my first idea.  If it glows for you, let’s go for it.  If it doesn’t, I get it, and I will be sure to keep sending up flares.

Oh, and also consider this your early Valentine because this is an invitation to strike out together in this coming year in the name of love - biophilia to be precise.

What?!?!?!?…. What is Biophilia?

So, there was a book published the year I was born, 1973, called The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness (fast forward 48 years and look around you to get the gist, sheesh.) In it Erich Fromm described biophilia as "the passionate love of life and of all that is alive."  I first learned about the term when passionate love for my children had me fast-tracking a parent-PhD in "how to raise an ecoliterate child".  (More on that adventure can be found here.). David Sobel seemed to hold the secrets.  He prioritized above all protecting and nurturing children's biophilia.  He prescribed lots of free play and mentor-inspired exploration in nature before the age of thirteen.  I doubled down on a shared hope: If humans only save that which we love, then we must above all else support our children's innate love of all life on earth.  

How: Phenology and Poetry

I found phenology when I was looking for ways to do just that - feed my children’s innate biophilia.  I got us each a notebook, wrote “PeeWee Phenology” across the front and we were off - at least once weekly - to not just notice with our full attention what was happening in the natural world but to actually take NOTE of it.  Why?  Aldo Leopold's life work is the answer to that question.  By noting our observations we are compiling data to be used as reference points in a future that is certain to be full of climate change and consequences.  It's an opportunity to exhibit and deepen one's "love of place" by stepping into citizen scientist boots weekly, or daily, and making a record of which species did what and when each year.  

Unbeknownst to us, by declaring ourselves phenologists we were also signing up to become devotees to awe - a glorious side-effect of making a dedicated practice of noticing nature.  When it comes to paying attention it seems that practice doesn't make perfect but rather makes something a new way of being.  A healed and returned instinct.  These days at our house whatever is happening inside just stops when the first ducks return to the pond or an early summer breeze releases the pine pollen.  This is where the poetry came in for me -  it was no longer enough to notice what was occurring around me.  I needed to document how it felt to be in synch with a bigger landscape than my tiny self-serving internal one.  This capacity for awe was a natural phenomenon that was arriving in all seasons now and at soul-saving rate of proliferation.  Maybe it was my age, and/or my exhaustion from weathering so much shame and despair in those years - but I knew, this too needed to be documented.  Writing a daily "haiku" (non-traditional) became a tiny habit* of expressing my passionate love of all that is alive - myself included.  And just as love begets love, that creative expression grew into occasional amateur sketches and watercolored snapshots. 

 

Poetry and Phenology?  At first glance these two seem like unlikely pair but housed under the same cover they are nothing short of spellbinding.  As The Tree That Time Built so eloquently illuminates the scientist and the poet both, "observe and explore connections within the natural world."  

It is my hope that by inviting others to join me in this practice, together we will be able to explore and create connections that will inspire us to act as agents of positive change for the future of our home planet.

The Practical Part of HOW:

1) Interested in giving it a try?  Great.  Join us on Zoom Wednesday Feb 2 at 6 pm to start a phenology notebook.  Pick your path:

No fuss prep: bring a 3 ring binder with blank pages, pen and colored pencils if you like.   

More artful prep : get a sketch journal for just this project, pencil, a fine line sharpie, ruler, compass, protractor, watercolors or colored pencils...

Bonus! Learn how to make the practice of keeping your journal - a tiny habit* of Self-care. 

2). Make a commitment to saving what you love.

Keeping an artful poetry and phenology journal has grounded me while navigating our intense reality that the climate is already changing and we are not moving quickly enough yet to meet critical timelines to avoid catastrophe.  (Pause for a breath.)  In just a few years' time my personal phenology journal has shown me some alarming shifts in seasonal patterns.  My journal has made it quite clear to me that while I notice, chart, wonder, and admire, I also must act.  Now. That is where I am hoping to find sisterly solidarity.

I'm making a go of adding another tiny habit to my life.  I am going to find a time 1X weekly to connect with other women who want to share a haiku, or a nature photo, or a phenology observation, along with any updates on their own efforts in being a climate activist! If you're interested in joining me, this Feb. 2nd let's light a candle in the name of love (biophilia) and plan a weekly date to witness, encourage, and cheer each other on in small, regular acts of being the change!

If you're interested contact and I will send you the zoom link!