The Arctic is a landscape where migrating birds create blizzards with feathers, where polar bears walk on water, and where white owls circle solitary men, reminding them of their limitations. Here, it is not unusual for wolves to walk up to children to har the words spoken by humans; or to find a piece of stone carved in the shape of a whale. This is not magic, only the nature of a landscape observed.
-Terry Tempest Williams
I interviewed Terry Tempest Williams shortly after her book, The Open Space of Democracy was released in 2002. She is an award-winning author and activist whose books include Refuge, Leap, and Red: Passion and Patience in the Desert. In The Open Space of Democracy, she articulates what I would call a Gaian vision of democracy: “It is time,” she writes, “to acknowledge the violence rendered to our souls each time a mountaintop is removed to expose a coal vein in Appalachia or when a wetland is drained, dredged, and filled for a strip mall. . . . A wild salmon is not the same as a salmon raised in a hatchery. And a prairie dog colony is not a shooting gallery for rifle recreationists, but a culture that has evolved with the prairie since the Pleistocene. At what point do we finally lay our bodies down to say this blatant disregard for biology and wild lives is no longer acceptable? We have made the mistake of confusing democracy with capitalism and have mistaken political engagement with a political machinery we all understand to be corrupt.”
The Open Space of Democracy consists of three essays which first appeared in Orion magazine. “Commencement” encourages “personal diplomacy” and respectful dialog. In “Ground Truthing” we experience the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge through Terry’s eyes and heart. The Arctic is both reality and metaphor for wildness and open space.There are numerous voices to hear, many of which require intuition and an open heart. Terry has both. And thanks to her skill as a writer, we hear them too.
What impressed me most about Terry is that she consistently integrates the Earth and spirit with the practical and rational work necessary to make change occur. This is so important for our own emotional and spiritual well-being certainly, and it’s also key in helping to facilitate the awakening of Gaian Consciousness, an awareness of Earth as alive, as sacred, and as active participant in the work that needs to be done. “Are we ready,” Terry asks, “for the next evolutionary leap — to recognize the restoration of democracy as the restoration of liberty and justice for all species, not just our own?”
SML: What do you mean by the open space of democracy?
TTW: As I say in the first essay, “Commencement”, in the open space of democracy there is room for dissent, there’s room for conversation and diversity. The open space of democracy is a place of engagement, a place of possibility and thoughtful reflection not simply opinion and pundits telling us what we should believe. It’s a very creative space. The central part of the open space of democracy is the land itself, a place where we remember who we are and what we come from. In the wildest sense it’s the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. In the most intimate sense it’s our own home country, our neighborhoods, in my case Castle Valley. Again, it’s that creative space where anything is possible if we dare and care to listen to each other.
SML: The theme for this issue is Democracy, but I resisted it because to me democracy implies politics and everything that goes along with that. And when I was talking with a friend about the subject he said that democracy is trusting that most people will do the right thing, that they’re informed and considerate and will act for the good of others, but in reality that’s not what happens.
TTW: I think part of the problem is that we shy away from politics. We say, “Oh, I’m not into politics.” I think each one of us on some level has to be involved in politics because that’s the way a democracy is run. If we don’t care about the politics of our communities, if we don’t care about who’s running for county commissioner or what’s happening on a local, state, or national level then we have forfeited our rights as citizens. And I think that’s what’s happened. We’ve become cynical, with good reason. We’ve become bored at best and repulsed at worst at what we see around us. As I say in “Engagement”, I no longer think we can look for solutions outside ourselves. We are the body politic, and we have to become engaged if we truly are interested in transforming this time and place. I believe this is a tremendous time of transition. It’s a very creative time, it’s also a very dark time and I don’t think we can afford to disengage any more. The stakes are too high. Whether it’s health care, the education of our children, or whether it’s the open spaces that define community in the largest possible sense — other species.
SML: Your definition of democracy, which includes the land and other species, is not something that most people consider.
TTW: It’s also not something that a lot of people even want to hear. but our focus has been too narrow. I love what Whitman said when he said that democracy is a form of ensemble. To me, ensemble is a definition of community, a community that includes all life forms: plants, animals, rocks, rivers, and human beings. It’s seeing the world whole, even holy. This is the idea of the spiritual democracy that we’re talking about.
SML: When I read your essays I was reminded of John Mohawk who wrote about the Indian roots of American democracy and the impact the Iroquois Confederation had on the framers of the Constitution, something that many people aren’t aware of. And of Winona LaDuke who said that in the Indian world view all species have standing, have rights. It seems to me this kind of democracy is inherent in this land and it’s time to wake up to it. Like you said in your book, “if we will listen to the land, we’ll know what to do”.
TTW: It’s interesting you should say that. I was interviewed by a woman yesterday, very savvy, from New York, and that was the sentence she could not comprehend. Yet that’s what spoke to you, and it’s the sentence I feel has the most courage in the entire book.
SML: After you made that statement, you wrote about a juniper tree near your house that you sit with frequently and how the intelligence from the tree passes into your bloodstream. You say, “This form of engagement reveals familial ties and I honor this tree’s standing in the community. We share a pact of survival. I used to be embarrassed to speak of these things . . . for fear of seeming mad. But now, it seems mad not to speak of these things — our unspoken intimacies with Other.” I totally agree. It’s time to wake up to the fact that we are in relationship with everything, with every living being. Personally, I feel our survival depends on it.
TTW: Absolutely. And we can bring this into public discourse in the very way that you are doing with your newsletter. It’s one community at a time. This country’s will change and this world will change because we can speak to each other in the intimacy of our own homes about a particular juniper tree that counsels us or, in your case, why you live in the shadow of the White Mountains and what that means to you. In the chapter called “Ground Truthing” I talk about that idea and ask: What might a different kind of power look like?
SML: Actually I wanted you to answer that question for me.
TTW: Power would be distributed equitably, even beyond our own species. To me this is what your newsletter is an example of. There’s no need to apologize for the fact it’s a small publication. To me it has every bit as much power and light and authority as The New York Times.
SML: I suppose that’s what a democracy is about — all these different voices.
TTW: Exactly. In the paragraph that follows that question I wrote, “on my haunches I see a sunburst lichen attached to limestone; algae and fungi are working together to break down rock into soil. I cannot help but recognize a radical form of democracy at play.” That’s what we’re really talking about when we say “if we will listen to the land we’ll know what to do”. The metaphors are there. The actual facts are there. One of the things that concerns me is that as a people we’re losing a sense of biological literacy, the sense that we belong to something so much larger than ourselves. There’s so much more to consider than just our own species.
SML: Our science and our world view which looks at things and separates things and analyzes things has caused us to forget that everything is connected.
TTW: And what does this mean in a country when we’re reduced to Republicans and Democrats, to red and blue states? The world is not organized in that kind of simplistic, diabolical way. We have to both respond and rebel against that kind of thinking. It’s difficult because we have short term issues and long term issues. Politics always takes a look at the short term. Spirituality, philosophy, community actions have a more long term focus. We need to bring these two considerations together.
SML: There’s a real tension there though. I believe that, for the most part, people want to do the right thing but, unfortunately, it seems that by doing the right thing for the long term they will end up hurting themselves financially or they will be inconvenienced in a way they aren’t willing to accept, and so short term issues win out. But when you consider the impact on the environment, on the Earth and all Earth’s creatures, then long-term thinking is the only thing that makes sense. But that’s really difficult for people. They go, “Yeah. But . . .”. It’s frustrating to get people to go from the “Yeah, but” to Yes, and”.
TTW: It is happening, though, when community members stand up and bear witness to both kinds of ideas and considerations. And things change when people within our own communities make the sacrifice and decide to become part of the democratic process. Everybody has busy lives and we think, “I don’t want to enter into that”. But I think we’re being forced to. As a writer I would love to get back to the essays that are more lyrical, etc. but I realize as a person who has been given a voice in this country, I don’t have that luxury right now.
SML: One of the things I noticed about your essays, especially “Ground Truthing” is the connections you make between what you’re seeing and feeling about the land, and the questions that arose. You pay attention to your intuition and the “cellular connection”, as you put it, that we all have with the Earth. Can you talk about that a little bit?
TTW: The only way I can describe it is that it’s a form of meditation, a form of conversation. It’s what happens when two living beings are in the same proximity. And I do believe trees have consciousness and stones have consciousness. I think all life is vibrating in its own way. It’s about creating within ourselves a space of deep listening and a hyper-awareness that transcends physical boundaries. It’s a metaphysical experience that’s open to every human being. If you put your hand on the land and sit with it, you’ll feel a pulsing. This whole planet is predicated on heartbeats of some sort, like this Earthly pulse. In a scientific as well as metaphysical as well as metaphorical sense. Again, that holistic stance.
SML: I was an activist in Vermont for many years and I moved here to live with my sister and also because I love the mountains — this is my home. I knew that I wanted to do something to try and speak for the mountains and fulfill my purpose but it took quite a while. I would tell myself to have patience. The mountains aren’t fast-moving. They take their time. And then one day I woke up and I knew to do this newsletter, I had he name and what I wanted it to be like — I could see it. The only thing I had to do was create it. To me it was the mountains saying, “Okay Susan, this is what you can do now.”
TTW: I believe that. And if each person within one’s own place listens on that level and acts as you have and then shares it with community — this is the living example of the space of open democracy.
SML: And the sharing is key. Don’t keep it inside. Share it.
TTW: That’s right. Ultimately that’s what the democratic process is — listening and sharing.
SML: In your book you also talk about reflective activism. How does it differ from the kind of activism that most of us are familiar with?
TTW: It’s an activism that’s sustainable. Those of us who have worked on campaigns know how weary and brittle you get. Abby Hoffman had it right when he said, “Part time activist, part time lover”. Never forget what it is you’re fighting for, what you’re speaking on behalf of. It’s so important to go back to the source, whether it’s the White Mountains or the Blue Hill Peninsula. We have to know what is necessary to sustain our spiritual lives. To me that means walking the land, being still, being generous, and paying attention. That’s why that Arctic trip was so important for me. When I went there after thirty years of dreaming it I realized it’s not about politics at all, it’s about wholeness.
SML: When the Castle Rock Collaboration (CRC) was trying to save the first parcel of land somebody came up at the last minute with the amount of money you needed. If that hadn’t happened, do you think the CRC would still have succeeded? I’m asking because most groups see raising that kind of money as a huge roadblock.
TTW: We did too, and then this person came forward with $180,000. And (long pause) . . . here’s the answer: we had to ask. Those of us who don’t have money think we don’t have power. We don’t know how to ask because it feels demeaning or whatever. I’ll tell you what happened that wasn’t in the essay. I was in San Francisco speaking to a group of people in a land trust about how we needed to raise $180,000 for this piece of land which seemed insurmountable because we’re a poor community. Now this group was raising 40 million dollars and the director said, “Terry, you can do it. All you have to do is ask.” That translated on two levels for me: The intention that we had to get the money and that we had to humble ourselves and ask. We had to take a risk, and also realize that it’s not about our pride, it’s about this land and giving the people the opportunity to be part of something large. After the talk this gentleman wrote a check and handed it to me. I called the community and said, “You won’t believe what just happened!”. It was really magic in the deepest sense. Do you know what I’m saying?
SML: Yes, I do.
TTW: It wasn’t about power, it was that we had enough passion to make it happen. And I do believe we would have done this without that money. Something else would have happened. It’s never one thing, it’s a series of things, and it’s a cumulative magic, an accumulation of good will and momentum so that more and more people want to be part of it. The key is organizing, finding partners of like minds and unlikely minds, and in making an irresistible coalition that transcends traditional politics.