...is pretty much in our face

 

This ambush bug (probably Phymata sp.) represents the awesome diversity of living beings here in Frog Pond Holler. Photo by Cathie Bird

I'm always curious about that "one more thing" I feel compelled to do before I go do something else. Last night, that "last thing" I had to do before celebrationg the death of 2010/emergence of 2011 was to read an editorial on global threats to biodiversity in The Guadian:

Biodiversity is all we have. Living things provide humankind's food, fabric, fibre and pharmaceuticals; they fertilise and pollinate crops, generate oxygen and recycle water. The wealth of nations is built upon biodiversity: even the oil, coal, peat, chalk and flints dug from the ground were once living tissue. So the case for the conservation of life's variety ought to be obvious. But biodiversity is a problem in four parts. We do not know, cannot identify, and cannot even begin to count most of the creatures upon whom we depend; nor do we know how these unidentified species interact with and depend upon each other; yet we are extinguishing this richness at a rate perhaps unparalleled in the 3.5bn year history of life on Earth; and we have as yet no masterplan with which to address any of these challenges.

I think I've finally figured out that I'm not a specialist at heart. I like to look for the ways in which many different things are connected, how they operate together in larger systems. Perhaps that's why I felt immediate resonance with the editor(s)' notion of biodiversity as "a problem in four parts" -- this view implies an appreciation of ecological systems, their complexity, and why that matters.

For a long time in my work as an activist, I experienced my interests in liberation for people and liberation for nature as kind of a double lineage of inspiration, parallel tracks for exploration and action. I think that, in my heart, they had always been fundamentally braided as a monorail system inducing (sometimes pushing) me along my life's path.

But in so many ways these interests seemed to come alive in my view of the world -- in the institutions of culture, politics, education, religion, health, law, business -- as being separate. This has been a huge source of frustration for me as a citizen-activist (especially aggravated in the past decade) because arguments based on systemic realities, such as the Guardian editors identify in their discussion of biodiversity, are simply not heard. There is no way for the institutionally-compromised brain to comprehend it.

I've been sitting here for a few minutes trying to think of some collective activity, some arena of life that all of us engage in every day where diversity doesn't matter for the well-being and stability of people and nature. I haven't found it yet.

Given that diversity enhances strength and persistence of life itself, I find it interesting that so much emotional fire has been ignited in opposition to it.

Immigration law battles in several states, intolerance directed at Muslims, gays and lesbians and Latinos, efforts to disempower the Environmental Protection Agency (an agency with a huge role in protecting biodiversity), increased monitoring of American citizens who engage in protected dissent, persistent leftovers from the American Civil War that perpetuate racial and political division -- these are just a few of the hot issues bound up with how much we value diversity.

It's hard to follow national discussions and reportage without becoming acutely aware of the tremendous amount of fear that permeates them. The energetic impact of fear is to limit, constrict, foreclose, exclude. I'm wondering if fear will be the greatest obstacle to achieving and maintaining diversity?

The Guardian editorial hints at these dynamics of fear as they may be playing out in global negotiations on biodiversity:

There is a global convention on biological diversity with 193 signatories, which declares that living species are not the common heritage of all mankind; instead states have sovereign rights over their own biological resources, and therefore implicitly a direct interest in conserving them. Since the richest concentrations of biodiversity are held by the poorest nations, scientists from Europe and the US must negotiate formidable bureaucratic and social obstacles before they can begin research, train local naturalists and start to advise on conservation techniques. Such intricacies forced the last-minute cancellation of a London Natural History Museum initiative in Paraguay in November.

Ultimately, I think it is through our willingness as a group to protect and nurture diversity of people and nature that we express our desire for life or for death, not just for ourselves but for many generations of diverse life that could follow.

Orange day lily near my house in Frog Pond Holler. Photo by Cathie Bird.

Choosing to connect with the Guardian editorial on biodiversity was auspicious. It generated much thought about where to focus my energy in 2011. I see myself exploring all of this -- and writing more about it -- in the coming year.

I sense, as do many others, that we are in an evolutionary moment of profound possibility to choose a lively way forward for Earth and humanity. That path is marked by an energetic matrix of peace, love, co-operation and co-ordinated, harmonious action. All four represent activity that tends toward openness and inclusion, and thus are consistent with protection and cultivation of diversity.

It should be interesting to see how this all turns out...for the Earth...for all of us. Until then, I can certainly stand with the editors at the Guardian who hope for "some serious political investment" over the long haul.

 

[Cross posted from my Earthbytes blog.]

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