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Dear People,

This month, once again, our annual intensive in the Work That Reconnects took place at Land of Medicine Buddha . That Tibetan retreat center among California's coastal redwoods is both unassuming and magical: simple quarters, clean as a pin, and huge intricately-painted prayer wheels, long wooden porches and gilded Buddhas smiling into the oak trees. It held forty of us in its serene and generous arms as we looked at ourselves and our world, and what this planet-time is asking of us.

group_santacruz_aug2009

Fran Macy loved these intensives and this was the first without him. My family wondered how I would fare without him at my side. But he was not absent--I felt him in the forms and structures we'd created together, and in the parts of the land he loved, not to mention a special place by the creek he claimed on his last Medicine Walk. It was sort of like encountering him. "Oh there you are, hello again."

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Dear People,

Two things this month--a visit to the Tar Sands in Alberta, and new stories from Russian colleagues about ongoing effects of Chernobyl--stoke my impatience with current debates on energy. I'm sick of strategies that don't center on efficiency and lifestyle changes. I want to puncture the delusion that nuclear power or fossil fuels have a place in our plans for a decent, sustainable world.

I first heard about the Tar Sands from Clayton Thomas-Muller, a young campaigner for the Indigenous Environmental Network, when he spoke at Bioneers in 2006. His words and pictures so riveted my attention that when an invitation came the next year to a conference on Ecology and the Helping Professions at the University of Calgary, I accepted with the idea of going on from there to see for myself what he had described. My plans for Alberta in May 2009 soon included talks and workshops in Edmonton and Banff, and the company of my Canadian-born friend Jennifer Berezan to enrich the events with her fabulous singing. Jennifer and I used our honoraria for the Edmonton event to fly, with my assistant Anne, North to the Tar Sands.

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Year's End 2008

Dear People,

Within days of Obama's election an all-men's retreat in the Work That Reconnects took place at Land of Medicine Buddha in Soquel, California. I was grateful beyond words for the privilege of being there. To convey the flavor of that event I will quote Earl Brown of the facilitators team, excerpting passages from his website (condorpeople.com).

"Can the human male overcome the violence that has been the hallmark of patriarchy and act responsibly on behalf of future generations? … Is the definition of masculinity and what it means to be a man changing? During a three-day retreat with a remarkable group of men, lead by one courageous woman, these questions and others were addressed in open discussion and group process. Men's Retreat

"Thirty nine men met Joanna Macy and her co-facilitator husband Fran… to investigate men's place and responsibility in the twenty-first century… Facing what appears to be the collapsing of Industrial Society and the hope generated by the election of Barack Obama,.. men spoke openly about what it was for them to be alive at this time. This was the second gathering of men to be guided by Joanna and Fran in the Work That Reconnects."

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Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009

Dear People,

The flood of messages pouring in since Fran's death on January 20th has been profoundly nourishing. The loving and insightful words go straight to my bloodstream. They accompany me as I cope with the shock and the huge, sudden loss. They lift me up again and again, which is good because often I fall into an unrecognizable, empty place. Your words lift Fran up too, hold him high to show the brilliant goodness and class of the man. The memories of us that you describe bring our life together back into focus for me--and put ground under my feet.

I'd like to tell you a little more of what happened than you will find in the memorial website (www.francismacy.com )

No one was with Fran when he died. I had gone down to work in my cottage in the garden, after he and I dragged ourselves away from watching President Obama's inaugural parade, and gave each other a long, strong hug of jubilation. The doctor says the heart attack was instantaneous, but we don't know exactly when it struck. Daughter Peggy, coming upstairs about an hour and a half after that last hug, found him lying back across our bed with one hand, already cool to the touch, resting on his heart and the other holding a copy of The Nation. Within minutes firemen and paramedics from the fire station down the street were attempting to revive him, and grandson Julien was running to find me, screaming "Something happened to Opa!" Imagining they detected a flicker of a pulse, the medics took Fran to the ER at the hospital some five blocks away. Peggy and I followed, with Jack, Barbara, Anne and Enid joining us. We didn't wait long before Fran's death was confirmed.

Given the shock of the suddenness of it all, it made a huge difference to bring Fran's body home. It took some doing, but I was determined--and finally succeeded, thanks to the green burial cemetery in Marin which Fran and I had already joined. They sent a mortuary vehicle to which the hospital could legally surrender the body--and then brought it to our house.

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Nov 11, 2008

Dear People,

Like many of you I'm still trying to believe what happened last week. Even though I have issues with some of Barack Obama's stated views, especially in foreign policy, the miracle is that he was elected--and by a landslide. I hadn't dared to hope for that. And now each day's news and photos still deliver such a charge, I hardly know how to speak my gladness--except to repeat how grateful I am that I've lived long enough to see this.

My heart is moved by so many dimensions of this amazing moment in our history. My heart is moved by Barack and Michele's courage from the start. And by the hundreds of thousands of women, men and youngsters who worked tirelessly for months in every corner of the country, many taking leave from jobs and school to devote their efforts full time. And by the massive, joyous celebrations that continue to erupt. This outpouring is more than about winning; I feel it coming from the soul of our nation, even showing me that our country has a soul--a hunger for decency that those who wielded power have for so long not perceived or understood.

Right now I am feeling especially thankful for a diligent bunch who, over the last four years, set themselves the task of determining and proving how voting machines were rigged to allow the theft of the 2004 election, so that it wouldn't happen again. They call themselves Velvet Revolution, and for the breathtaking story of how, in the nick of time, they brought their accumulated evidence to legal action to compel testimony from Karl Rove and his key operative Mike Connell, see their web site www.velvetrevolution.us and www.rovecybergate.com.

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