Yesterday, the governor of Maine vetoed the compromise solar energy bill that the legislature worked so hard to pass. I feel so angry. This one man is destroying thousands of potential new solar installations, all the jobs that go with it, and ultimately, adding to thousands of tons of carbon emissions because of his attack on renewable energy. I read today that even the utility companies supported this compromise bill. It certainly wasn’t a great bill. A great bill would have added incentives and support for increasing our shift to renewable energy. But it did provide a modest way forward.
But one man can veto it all. It makes my blood boil.
Tomorrow there is a rally at the state house, and I know that many people are writing to their legislators to attempt to gain nine more votes from Republicans who previously have voted against the bill. My state rep and state senator were both in favor, and I wrote to thank them. And I am writing this post, because sometimes we just have to rail against the powers of destruction and hope that the fire in our voices will turn the wind.
Signing the contract for our own solar panels has made this political side of the struggle very personal to me. I was just realizing today that it has been almost nine months since we began this journey, our search for greener housing. The length of a human pregnancy: and it has felt like being pregnant. The sheer magnitude of doing it all required a focus and energy that limited the other work I could do for the transformation of our society toward earth community. But now we are here, and the solar panels are about to be installed, and the baby is almost born, and I feel like a mama bear about it. I know that solar panels are not the be-all and end-all of the work we must do. But they have become a sign and symbol of it for me.
I have to remember the vows I took when I gathered with other earth lovers at the Work that Reconnects with Joanna Macy last summer. They give me strength on days like today.
- I vow to myself and to each of you:
- To commit myself daily to the healing of our world and the welfare of all beings.
- To live on Earth more lightly and less violently in the food, products, and energy I consume.
- To draw strength and guidance from the living Earth, the ancestors, the future beings, and my siblings of all species.
- To support others in their work for the world and to ask for help when I feel the need.
- To pursue a daily practice that clarifies my mind, strengthens my heart, and supports me in observing these vows.
I have to remember that we will not complete the work, but neither can we abandon it. This is the next part of this spiritual journey. Whatever the outcome, to be fierce like a mama bear about this earth we love. To be connected to the real Mama Bear, the Earth herself. We are part of a larger Life, larger than one destructive man, larger than the destructive forces that threaten everything we hold dear. I have to remember to lift up my voice and my arms in life and hope with all the green living things who are waking up in this season of new life.

Today, as I walked in the woods, I was suddenly seeing all the leaves budding open as if they were little solar energy panels for the plants and trees–only much more beautiful and efficient than the solar energy panels we humans are able to make. We are in those weeks when the plants are waking up and starting their solar production once more. And our own celebration is to make a decision about solar energy, so that panels can be put on our roof as soon as possible.
I am feeling an paradox today. I began this 

Last Sunday we contracted with movers to carry another load of stuff from our old house to our new house–stuff from the garage and the basement, including this pool table. Our other helpers had taken off the base, but it still took quite a bit of maneuvering for the guys to get the table out of the old basement bulkhead entrance. Then when we got to the new house, it got stuck in the bulkhead entrance here. It was just that much tighter.
Well, they pulled it back out, and then Margy and one of the movers got creative: they chipped and sawed away at the bulkhead framing, to make a little carve out, and finally, with only a small cracked corner, the table made it into the basement!
Advice from Mona Polacca, one of the Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers: “Know your water.” Living in the city of Portland, we have city water in our home, which comes from Sebago Lake before it is processed. So we share a collective responsibility for keeping the water clean. After being on a private well, it is a bit strange to get a bill for water, but it gives us a better consciousness of its careful use. (Unfortunately, Portland treats its water with fluoride, which has been implicated as detrimental for thyroid health. Something to explore for another day.)
I woke early in the morning, anxious about yet another radon test at our old house, as the rain was coming down and the wind was all stirred up. We’ve had two failed radon tests, before and after upgrades to our mitigation system. The other day, the mitigation folks were checking on why the radon levels had doubled after their upgrades, but everything seemed fine, and their instant test meter was showing no problems. They suggested that perhaps it was an anomaly, and we should retest.
I woke at 5 a.m. to a cat scratching at a closed door, and decided I’d better get up for cat duty, so Margy could get some sleep. I was glad they were finally exploring the house. It was so upsetting yesterday to see how traumatic the move was for Billie and Sassy. We had started them off by sequestering them in the basement bathroom where their litter boxes will remain. Sassy went into the cabinet and hid there, and Billie huddled behind the toilet. Margy and I took turns being with them and letting them be alone.


Our house is filling up with boxes and more boxes, as another helper (Thank you!) came today, and we packed and packed. Then, she left a lovely dinner that I could heat up in the oven. Yum!
