Julie Unplugged: Naturalist

July 07, 2012

Exploring & Writing Your Way Into Wilderness: If You Couldn't Fail.....

“Wilderness itself is the basis of all our civilization. I wonder if we have enough reverence for life to concede to wilderness the right to live on?” Margaret "Mardy" Murie, "Grandmother" of the Conservation Movement.

Today's Summer Blog Challenge asks us: If You Couldn't Fail, What Would You Do?

If I couldn’t fail, I would do my long overdue tour of the country I have always wanted to do, sharing Word-Love, Passion for living and a full time embrace of the wilderness within and around us within every community so that each town, hamlet, city I go to can begin to spread the fire for personal expression, finding voice and just feeling better about this wilderness we all inhabit, that we all are….

That word, “Wilderness” has been percolating in my mind in a brand new way lately.

“Wild” ness

And

“Wilder” ness.

I have been reading the book When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams. She has a passion for wilderness as a naturalist, a biologist but even more than that, she has a passion for the wilderness within each of us.

Read some of her words:

“To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from.” TTW

If I couldn’t fail, I would do my long overdue tour of the country, sharing Word-Love, Passion for living and a full time embrace of the wilderness within and around us within every community so that each town, hamlet, city I go to can begin to spread the fire for personal expression, finding voice and just feeling better about this wilderness we all inhabit, that we all are….

Yes. Wilderness is connection, human connection.

“We can try to kill all that is native, string it up by its hind legs for all to see, but spirit howls and wildness endures.” TTW

Yes. How many people have had their passion, their individuality strung up for months, weeks, days, even years in some cases? I know because I was one of those people who did that.

I know some people connote “wild” with frightening or loud or nutty or something and someone you steer clear of, but I am taking it on differently and wondering if you might dip your toe into seeing wilderness and wildness in a new way.

(For some reason the song “Born to Be Wild” is now playing in my head.)

One definition of wilderness:

1. An unsettled, uncultivated region left in its natural condition, especially:

a. A large wild tract of land covered with dense vegetation or forests.

b. An extensive area, such as a desert or ocean, that is barren or empty; a waste.

c. A piece of land set aside to grow wild.

2. Something characterized by bewildering vastness, perilousness, or unchecked profusion: the wilderness of the city; the wilderness of counterespionage; a wilderness of voices.

When I looked into the definition of “Wild” I see why people might stray from it. I sort of shook my head as I read, saying “yeah, but… you make it sound…”

I feel like I want to be an attorney in the defense of “Wild” and “Wilderness”.

wild (wld)

adj. wild·er, wild·est

1. Occurring, growing, or living in a natural state; not domesticated, cultivated, or tamed: wild geese; edible wild plants.

2. Not inhabited or farmed: remote, wild country.

3. Uncivilized or barbarous; savage.

a. Lacking supervision or restraint: wild children living in the street.

b. Disorderly; unruly: a wild scene in the school cafeteria.

c. Characterized by a lack of moral restraint; dissolute or licentious: recalled his wild youth with remorse.

5. Lacking regular order or arrangment; disarranged: wild locks of long hair.

6. Full of, marked by, or suggestive of strong, uncontrolled emotion: wild with jealousy; a wild look in his eye; a wild rage.

7. Extravagant; fantastic: a wild idea.

8. Furiously disturbed or turbulent; stormy: wild weather.

9. Risky; imprudent: wild financial schemes.

10.

a. Impatiently eager: wild to get away for the weekend.

b. Informal Highly enthusiastic: just wild about the new music.

11. Based on little or no evidence or probability; unfounded: wild accusations; a wild guess.

12. Deviating greatly from an intended course; erratic: a wild bullet.

13. Games Having an equivalence or value determined by the cardholder's choice: playing poker with deuces wild.

adv.

In a wild manner: growing wild; roaming wild.

1. A natural or undomesticated state: returned the zoo animals to the wild; plants that grow abundantly in the wild.

2. An uninhabited or uncultivated region. Often used in the plural: the wilds of the northern steppes.

intr.v. wild·ed, wild·ing, wilds Slang

Final words from Terry Tempest Williams:

"If you know wilderness in the way that you know love, you would be unwilling to let it go.... This is the story of our past and it will be the story of our future."

What would you do if you couldn’t fail?

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot

Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook (THANK YOU!)

Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

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Posted at 12:16 PM in Blog Hop, Fear, July2012, Literary History, Naturalist, Networking, Passion, Passion for Creativity, Peacefulness, Storytelling, Summer Blog Challenge, Travel, Wilderness, Woman Naturalist, Women's Movement, Women's Quotes, Word-Love, Writing, Writing Camp, Writing Prompt | Permalink | Comments (1)

June 30, 2012

How to Have a Full Hearted Mommy Experience this Summer: Be a Haiku Mama, naturally!

Listen: It is to live consistently as simply as this inhale and that exhale, one in and one out, peaceful, content and open for whatever the next thing is your children, your boss, your partner or the weather or the construction on your street sends you next.

This is the most basic sense of what it means to be a Haiku Mama.

One of my great and simple joys is teaching people in journaling and writing classes the pure joy of writing one of the most condensed forms of poetry possible: the haiku. If you don’t remember from elementary school it is – traditionally in Japanese and this is only a very short bit of it – a three line poem with the first and third line consisting of five syllables and the middle line being seven syllables.

A Haiku Mama (or Mommy, which is what my children call me) is a Mom who takes live one moment at a time not with a heart pounding in fear about the "what shoe will drop next!" but rather knowing that whatever comes, everything will truly be just fine.

I do some of my best contemplative “work” while driving. Maybe it is because as a Mommy, I spend more time than I would necessarily choose to spend behind the wheel of my Mom - Mobile. I don’t know how it works, but today I was driving along thinking about this exceptionally fine, exceptionally full week I just experienced.

There were whirlwind elements and a lot of moving and hustle and bustle, but within all that flittering and fluttering there were moments of deep soul that will carry be above and beyond all the heres and theres and the other places.

This is important, especially during the Summer when the children’s needs are not only the highest priority, but everyone is underfoot all the time and reminding me I need to spread myself out amongst them… as equally and lovingly as possible.

If I look back and tell you all the activities from this week, you might get tired before I highlight three major “wow” moments. These are times when everything slows and expands, moments where we will remember and tell and retell or perhaps just like at each other and smile, connecting over and over again.

1) For the love of a fallen Sequoia.

My love of Sequoia trees is not a very well kept secret. I love my Sequoias so much I have put off visiting Yosemite again because it feels like I am cheating on Sequoia. I know, my logic isn’t sound but my love is pure. I took Emma, Samuel and our Couchsurfing visitor, Sara, to the Trail of 100 Giants – a very familiar and beloved place only this time we were in for a surprise. One of the giants had fallen. These are no minor giants, either. These are fifteen hundred year old trees, as in were one thousand years old when Shakespeare was first putting quill to paper. To see a friend, fallen was breathtaking. To reach into her cracked open side, like reaching inside a living person, offering her heart to me. I need to work on the description of that moment. It is so beyond words still for me.

2) Space Mountain & Trust at Disney – I wrote about our Space Mountain adventure in my blog yesterday. You may read that here. I loved exploring Disney with my children, but I was also gripped in fear and anxiety much of the time. Each time Samuel, my son with autism, said, “I want to go on that again!” my heart stretched. He was so afraid of Disney until we went there and he overcame each and all of his fears. We all stretched on this trip. I will also forever remember when Emma and I spent time there alone in Fantasy Land, primarily, going on the kiddo rides and Small World and laughing a lot together.

3) Jacaranda Buds Fall into my Hair – I took the train home and left my children with their Dad because I had a show and didn’t want to worry about being late home. You can never tell with Los Angeles traffic. I had a bit of a layover in Union Station which I filled with writing. I sat inside for one point and a random woman asked me to watch her things. I agreed, knowing it was impeding on “what I wanted to do” but I also believe random kindnesses are important in this day and age. In doing so, I got some incredible photos I wouldn’t have gotten if I turned down her request. I also went back into the garden at a glass topped table under a jacaranda tree. I was in heaven just at that, but when one of the flowers from the tree offered herself to me by landing in my hair unexpectedly, once again my heart grew in my chest.

If I had to dissect each moment, I would say they were an exercise in mindfulness, just like the haiku poetry form. Awareness + breath + full hearted experience = abundant rewards as a way of life.

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot

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Posted at 10:49 AM in Autism, Couchsurfing, Family, Family Travel, Julie Jordan Scott, Mom-Schlep, Mommying, Motherhood, Move from To-Do to Ta-Da!, Naturalist, Parenting, Parenting a Child on the Autism Spectrum, Passion, Science, Self Care, Self Love, Solitude, Special Needs Siblings, Travel, Writing | Permalink | Comments (1)

June 21, 2012

“It is not the lips of a prince that will save us, it is our own lips, speaking.” Terry Tempest Williams & More Wisdom #SummerBlogChallenge

June 21from the Summer Blog Challenge -- Most recent words of wisdom you heard that stuck with you.

Have you ever had one of those books recommended to you that you resisted reading?

I have authors like that: people say “Have you read thus and so?” and I say “No…..” and over and over again “Thus and So” shows up in your consciousness.

This is what happened to me with Terry Tempest Williams. The other night her book When Women Were Birds insisted I buy it. I gave in. I took the insistent book off the shelf and bought it. I started reading and was hooked. It was like a reunion with one of my oldest and dearest friends!

In fact, there is wisdom on nearly every page!

I have gleaned a couple quotes here. No, the only “aloud hearing” of this wisdom was me reading the words aloud to me and myself alone, but nonetheless, these are the most recent words of wisdom, especially sticky, that I have come across:

“Beware of the charismatic wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“I take a breath and sidestep my fear and begin speaking from the place where beauty and bravery meet – within the chambers of a quivering heart.”

“It is not the lips of a prince that will save us, it is our own lips, speaking.”

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot

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Posted at 10:02 AM in Art and Spirituality, Blog Hop, Books, Naturalist, Summer Blog Challenge, Woman Naturalist, Women's Movement | Permalink | Comments (0)

May 24, 2012

Literary Grannies: Opal Whiteley - Mysterious Genius from the 20th Century

This goes beyond wanting to tell you about someone, this is about needing to tell you about someone.

A part of me is shocked I got to be this age without discovering her before. She is exactly the sort of woman I started the Women Writers in Literary History (which turned into Literary Grannies in 2013) Series. I want to spread the news of inspiring and offbeat women writers from the past and even a handful of some from the present.

Opal Whiteley was both a naturalist, a writer, a storyteller and a teacher. She was published when still a child. AND she was eccentric, so eccentric that her very oddness became a part of her eventual downfall.

The Cottage Grove Historical Society says this: “In the early days of this century, Opal was the most popular teenager in Oregon. It was thought she might become the greatest scientist, writer and teacher that Oregon had ever produced. Instead, in 1921, she became biggest Oregon literature's biggest embarrassment ‑ and mystery.”

She was abused as a child – a fact she documented in her infamous diaries. She was lonely, which perhaps fueled her imagination.

Her brilliance in natural science was a gateway to the University of Oregon without a degree. She had been giving lectures since she was thirteen, including tales of plants, trees, and animals speaking to her. Personally, I would never deny some very sensitive people may be able to tune into nature so much that it speaks specifically to them to share with the rest of us.

She wrote books when she was young and magazine articles when she was older.

Included in her resume are The Fairlyland Around Us, Her Famous Diaries which had to be reassembled from scraps of paper and documented which sold under the title The Story of Opal: The Journal of an Understanding Heart and was a runaway best seller. She also had a book of poetry published titled The Flower of Stars.

Some of my favorite quotes from Opal include these:

“And all the time all day long I did have longings to go on exploration trips. The fields were calling. The woods were calling. I heard the wind. He was making music in the forest. It was soft music. It was low. It was an echo of the songs the flowers were singing. Even if there was much works to do, hearing the voices helped me to get the works done in the way they ought to be done.”

“All those trees are my friends. I call them by names I have given to them. I call them Hugh Capet Hugh Capet and Saint Louis Saint Louis and Good King Edward I.; and the tallest one of all is Charlemagne, and the one around where the little flowers talk most is William Wordsworth, and there are Byron and Keats and Shelley. When I go straight for the milk, I do so like to come around this way by the lane and talk to these tree friends. I stopped tonight to give to each a word of greeting.”

I have a confession: I talk to the trees of my neighborhood as well, but I have yet to name them other than their “official” names. Sounds like an idea whose time may have come!

She used several different names as she matured until 1948 when she found herself institutionalized at Napsbury Mental Hospital in England. She had a lobotomy during the 1950’s. The longer she stayed at the institution, the more she was loved. This is a good thing because she lived until she died at age 95 in 1992.

I wonder what might have happened for Opal if she had been accepted and allowed to continue “on the outside”. I wonder what would happen if Opal was a child now. Would they try to discipline her uniqueness into conventionality?

I am grateful I found her and will continue to come to know her via her writing. Perhaps you will now, as well? Thank you, as always, for reading.

Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She teaches a teleclass/ecourse "Discover the Power of Writing & Telling Engaging, Enlightening Stories" which begins again May 23, 2012, 2012. Find details by clicking this link.

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Posted at 12:03 PM in Books, Literary History, Naturalist, Peacefulness, Woman Naturalist, Women in Literary History, Women's Movement, Writing | Permalink | Comments (1)

April 24, 2012

V is for Virginia Eifert - Naturalist : Women Writers in Literary History from A to Z #AtoZchallenge

I did something brand new as we roll toward the end of the alphabet in the Women Writers in Literary History from A to Z series.

Until yesterday I had thought we would be exploring the life of Violet Fane today. Instead, we are learning together about Virginia Eifert, Naturalist and author of 20 books, many articles, poetry and a remarkable gift of a human life to the state of Illinois and to the world.

Virginia Eifert

Naturalist, Writer, Poet, Artist, Mother, Conservationist

1911 - 1966

Virginia only lived to be 55, but when she died in 1966 she left a legacy we are still able to learn from today.

Women naturalists are not as well known as the men. Most of us look to naturalist/philosophers like Henry David Thoreau - believe me, I am a big fan - but there is something in the little girl in me that gets so excited to know there were women exploring, researching and sharing discoveries about the outdoors, too. Especially with the amount of passion Mrs. Eifert possessed. People who synch with nature tend to naturally “get” each other. I have a feeling Virginia would “get” me, too.

Listen to her words as you read them: “The calm night does its work. It builds up an armor of serenity, so that, newly fortified, a man may face the harassing day; he has the placid sounds of whip-poor-wills and night-wind in his ears, the mystery of trees before him, and the stars above his head."

She knew what it was to experience the outdoors fully. She believed, as I do, a yard isn’t something to pass through on your way inside, it is something to be appreciated fully on its own. Tonight, be a part of Mrs. Eifert’s legacy by simply taking a few moments to actually experience night out doors, right there in your natural surroundings whether you live in a city or a rural area, an apartment, a fifth wheel or a castle in the sky.

Tonight – I urge you to step outside and listen. Close your eyes and feel the air against your skin. Take a deep breath and see what smells are out there. Don’t label any of it as bad or wrong or ugly, just allow it to become a part of you.

If you feel compelled, write about it.

In such simple actions, you give honor to Virginia Eifert, our one nature writer this month. In such a simple action, you give honor to each and all of our Women Writers from A to Z. I am so grateful you are reading here today.

This blog post is an entry in the A to Z Challenge. Each day in April (except Sundays) I will be featuring a woman in literary history. If you click on the logo below, you will be introduced to the writing of more than a thousand bloggers writing on a wide variety of topics in April, all from A to Z!

Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She teaches a teleclass/ecourse "Discover the Power of Writing & Telling Engaging, Enlightening Stories" which begins again April 19, 2012. Find details by clicking this link.

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Posted at 03:52 PM in Activism and the Arts, Blog Hop, Books, Naturalist, Parenting, Passion, Woman Naturalist, Women in Literary History, Women in Literary History from A to Z, Women's Movement | Permalink | Comments (4)

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July 07, 2012

Exploring & Writing Your Way Into Wilderness: If You Couldn't Fail.....

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June 30, 2012

How to Have a Full Hearted Mommy Experience this Summer: Be a Haiku Mama, naturally!

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June 21, 2012

“It is not the lips of a prince that will save us, it is our own lips, speaking.” Terry Tempest Williams & More Wisdom #SummerBlogChallenge

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May 24, 2012

Literary Grannies: Opal Whiteley - Mysterious Genius from the 20th Century

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April 24, 2012

V is for Virginia Eifert - Naturalist : Women Writers in Literary History from A to Z #AtoZchallenge

Tonight – I urge you to step outside and listen. Close your eyes and feel the air against your skin. Take a deep breath and see what smells are out there. Don’t label any of it as bad or wrong or ugly, just allow it to become a part of you.

If you feel compelled, write about it.

In such simple actions, you give honor to Virginia Eifert, our one nature writer this month. In such a simple action, you give honor to each and all of our Women Writers from A to Z. I am so grateful you are reading here today.

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