Class 6 notes by Carmen L.
Our 6th class marked our half-way point in the PDC program. When we began with the Elm Dance, there were only a dozen of us plus Sage, Jay and Zoe. After completing our gratitude circle, Sage and Jay introduced 5 Design Project Scenarios: 1) Center St./daylight Strawberry Creek, 2) Oxford open space, 3) Brigid House, 4) Shattuck between Allston & Kittredge, and 5) Urban farmers co-op in Berkeley. I picked the last one because it might be something that can be transferred elsewhere like in San Francisco to address food security issues.
I use my learning affirmation (from 2nd class) as motivation to attend PDC classes. However, I skipped the evening portion of last week’s class to attend a holistic nutrition lecture by the author of Vitamins and Minerals Demystified. Government recommendations on nutrition often conflict with scientific research and represent private industry such as dairy and meat. Because governments and private industry (I’ve been employed by both so I speak from personal experience) don’t always act in the public interest, I volunteer with non-profit groups that promote health, food security and self-sufficiency. Food is medicine: we are what we eat and absorb, as well as what we don’t eliminate. Without intake of proper nutrients, people lack mental clarity and physical energy to be fully alive. Soil erosion has resulted in loss of nutrients in our food (including animals which eat plants) so I really looked forward to our 6th class devoted to soil.
To shift gears, Sage led us on a soil trance before quickly going through her presentation, emphasizing the ancient mantra for creating soil: OM=Organic Matter. Next Jay zipped through a presentation on carbon sequestration. Someone asked about the role of animal agriculture on carbon dioxide emissions, but time ran out as we had to clear the room for a yoga class.
After lunch, we met at BYA for a discussion on animals led by Sage and Jay. Zoe provided comic relief when she made a surprise appearance dressed up as a chicken! Because I’ve spent much of my life traveling (sorry for the big carbon footprint!) and living out of a suitcase so I haven’t spent much time at home, I’ve never possessed anything that would require maintenance—no growing plants, pets, car, etc. Anyone who knows me well wonders if I’m capable of staying put long enough to care for anything living; I respond that I intend to be “the designer in the recliner.”
We broke out into several groups to build a compost pile and prepare sheet mulching. Let’s move the shovel and I’ll end up with Michelle Obama’s biceps!
After dinner, Zoe introduced improv exercises that were intended to be fun and to build community by taking risks. I went along with zip-zap-zop (similar to South African game from the 4th class) and other group circle exercises. When Zoe asked us to go on stage to make up a scene and then take the scene to a different direction at her signal, I was actually disturbed because this reminded me of duplicitous salespeople. When I worked in banking, I often accompanied team members who would sell financial services/products that were likely unsuitable for clients—and certainly nothing we would purchase for ourselves. However, our incentive compensation was based on cross-selling so team members would internally bash a product but then encourage clients to buy it. While team members viewed this as a joke, I was appalled and felt even worse when clients bought into the pitch—“say yes.” While I thought I’d be neutral by remaining silent and let the buyer beware, this bothered my conscience because could silence mean condoning hypocrisy/greed/exploitation?
In a competitive market-driven environment, business people often make things up as they go along—similar to improv, no rules—though intentions may be different. I should have opted out of the improv exercise because I kept associating this Jekyll & Hyde role-playing with painful real-life experiences, still raw in my non-fiction mind—similar to Tanzanian women who opted out of double-digging, which they associated with digging graves to bury their deceased loved ones. I didn’t mean to be a party pooper, but I also can’t digest party fare like alcohol and ice cream. I decided to write-off this exercise as my once-in-a-lifetime experience, never to be repeated!!!
Zoe asked us how we felt after the improv exercises: whether we felt alive? I wondered if she was referring to our stress response as the first volunteer said he was going up just to get the exercise over with. I’ve really been blessed with opportunities to meet and live overseas with people from all over the world—in fact, I’ve traveled to well over 100 countries and I always return to find most American behavior so peculiar. It’s like most Americans who live fairly comfortable lives need an adrenaline rush from activities like watching competitive sports/reality TV shows/action-packed disaster movies, drinking and eating caffeine and salty fast food, etc. to feel alive. One former client, a CFO of a multi-national corporation, told me he looked forward to skydriving or bungee jumping just to feel alive.
On the other hand, I find most people who struggle to meet basic needs tend to be more spiritual—always praying in gratitude and for protection. Most Americans won’t even consider faith (not even fear of God will provide adrenaline rush?) until faced with a life-threatening loss. I feel alive when I pray and ponder God’s creations, especially food J–theme of my life! “Alive” to me is inner peace, calmness, balance, etc.—helps qi (energy) flow—I feel alive in an edible garden.
I admire Larry David’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” the HBO series in which the actors perform improv and the Larry David character doesn’t suffer fools but instead delivers his trademark stare when he doesn’t think someone’s being truthful. I might borrow Larry David’s stare next time as a conscientious objector act!