Deena Responds

The following is a response sent to me by Deena Metzger after I asked her permission to use her photograph for the previous post. Please do read the post so you will understand the context. Deena is one of my favorite wise, compassionate, and creative elders and I encourage everyone to visit her web site and immerse yourselves in her work. Thank you, Deena, for who you are and for all you do.

"For a year, a dear friend and I regularly visited several animals, a polar bear, a gorilla and several elephants incarcerated in the Los Angeles Zoo, an hour’s drive for us. Billy, the elephant, had evident PTSD, swaying back and forth endlessly, listlessly; no matter how hard we tried, we could never indicate our presence to him though we hoped, over time, we might make a difference. There was, in contrast to what is said here (note: in the previous post), little left of him, but that is exactly why we tried as best as we could to reach him. The polar bear, Dreamer, never noticed either. But, the gorilla, that we called Miko, did notice and we bonded over the weeks. He engaged us in elaborate games of recognition and it seemed that for at least an hour he was relieved of his terrible isolation and confinement where he was also subjected to the on-going taunts of most of the human visitors.

The two female elephants who were friends and companions, and then Dreamer and Miko died within months of each other. We don’t know why Dreamer died. One of the elephants was sent to another facility, and her friend languished here. When the friend was finally returned, it was too late. Her friend died and she died soon afterwards. Heartbreak is a real disease. As real and terrible as trauma. Miko was sent to another facility as well — to be a breeder. He died within a few short months.

We had visited these animals in the ways we would visit a family member who might be incarcerated. We wanted to extend love to what others might see as damaged and not worthy of notice, or too painful to see. Some people, understandably, cannot bear going to the zoo, do not want to support such practices. But what about the animals who are imprisoned there? Heart contact -- with as much or as little survives -- is necessary. Heart contact is a medicine. Heart contact can begin the process of restoration of the earth. Since the poster, so much more has been added to my life than a simple breast. Bringing the poster into the world, and becoming a healer, I am so much more than I was once."

Alive In the World...

I just finished a novel where one of the main characters survived the loss of a breast to cancer.

One day her granddaughter happened upon her in the bath, seeing the “still angry and red puckered flesh” where her breast had been.

“You notice that something's different about me,” my grandmother said.

I nodded. I did not have the words, at that age, to explain what I wasn't seeing, but I understood that it was not what should have been. I pointed to the wound. “It's missing,” I said.

My grandmother smiled, and that was all it took for me to stop seeing the scar, and to recognize her again.

“Yes,” she said. “But see how much of me is left?” (1)

I've been trying to come to terms with what I believe is the reality of Bill McKibben's assertion that “the chance that we will in fact leave to the future a world at least as rich in possibilities as the world that was left to us is nil. As in, not going to happen.”(2) That the world has changed in ways that can never be recovered. And that there's actually nothing I can do about it. I have to accept it; I have to let it go.

Yes, says Grandmother. But look how much of me is left.

But I can't let it go. It's unacceptable. It's unbearable. All I can see is the scar. To see otherwise feels

like a betrayal, giving in. Giving up. Yet, is it a betrayal to let go of something that's gone? Should it be mourned? Yes. Should it be remembered? Absolutely, in intricate detail, so our future generations will know what they aren't seeing.

But what about that which is still left and which is still rapidly disappearing? How do I stop seeing only the scar and recognize my grandmother again? “Once something's spoiled, it's easier to throw up your hands and walk away, which will be the great temptation for us,” says McKibben.(3) Indeed, I have been so tempted. So tempted.

But I remember a quote by Julia Butterfly Hill that went like this:

“If you’re the only person left, as long as your hope is committed in action, then hope is alive in the world.” As long as any of us keep love, compassion, beauty, peace, the sacred...alive in our hearts and we do not walk away from that which is “damaged”, then these will remain alive in the world. And if enough of us can do this, maybe the cancer will stop spreading.

This is a poster of Deena Metzger whose work I often cite. It is available for purchase on her web site. She transformed her scar into a winding branch with leaves, grapes, and a bird. Photo is by Hella Hammid.

¹Jodi Picoult - “The Storyteller” pg. 365

²Bill McKibben – Essay “Something Braver Than Trying to Save the World” in Moral Ground – Ethical Action For a Planet in Peril, pg.175. Kathleen Dean Moore & Michael P. Nelson,eds.

³Ibid. Also see his book “eaarth – Making a Life on a Tough New Planet”