Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

11 January

Changing Hats

by Jon Katz

This afternoon, I’ll stop by the Mansion Refugees to drop off some coloring books and crayons. I’m getting to know the Dollar Store.

Then I’m going to change hats, and put on my refugee hat.

I’m going to a middle school in Albany to meet a  young woman from Myanmar whose teachers say is especially gifted.

She is applying to one of the best private schools in the Albany area and we are meeting with school officials in early February to see if we can get her a full scholarship, the school is eager to work with us, and I’ve partnered up with Alex Borgess, a senior at the Albany Academy. He wants to help raise some money for this program at the school.

This young woman’s teacher is especially dedicated and is helping her with her application. So I’m heading to a middle school in Albany. Back in time for Bingo at the Mansion.

I’m going to meet this very gifted refugee student today and take her photo and get to know  her a bit. I believe we can make this happen, I think this is a wonderful way to help. I can’t wait to meet her.

11 January

The Death Of Socrates, A Snail

by Jon Katz

Maria and I have been having a week-long discussion about our favorite snail, Socrates (actually he’s Socrates the 2nd). I thought he was dying or dead and should be removed from the tank to protect it.

Maria, who has been researching the lives of snail, said the test of a dead snail is that it smells. She balked at the idea of removing him, and at the idea he might be dead.

I confess I thought this concern for a snail was over the top, although we care more for this snail than I ever thought we would or I would. Still, if I’ve learned anything about a life with animals or a life on the farm, it’s that you can’t have sick or dying animals hanging around. I can be ruthless about that.

Maria is never ruthless.

The animals depend on us to think of the greater good, and I just had trouble hanging onto a snail that was, to me, clearly dying. Dying or rotting animals can pollute a tank and harm the survivors. I have this idea that this is something men do reflexively – protect the flock, even at the expense of a sheep.

Still, Maria and I have a good rule when it comes to animal disputes. We each hold a veto. I can’t get rid of an animal unless she concurs, neither of us can bring any animal onto the farm unless we both agree. Giving Socrates a few more days to live couldn’t do a great deal of harm.

We can argue and disagree, but that rule puts a boundary on fighting. Plus there’s this: we respect one another. That helps.

Maria and I approach animal care issues differently. She hates to say goodbye to a plant, she re-homes spiders and bugs if they get inside. She is quite level-headed in life, but she values all living things with great feeling.

I wasn’t raised that way. No one in my life every valued the life of a plant or spider or snail, it is a very new concept for me. I still can’t quite imagine the rational for re-homing a spider, although I do it  now. I wouldn’t dare do otherwise.

I feel the idea of stewardship intensely, and I believe it was to keep that discoloring snail dying or dead on the bottom of our tank for days, it just seemed over the top for me. I also believe in growing and listening, and Maria has opened me up tot he mystery and wonder of the snail, Socrates was really an amazing creature, we spend some lovely hours watching him. Who would ever have thought a few years ago that I would be writing that?

But Maria felt differently from me about Socrates at the end of his life, and one of the reasons I love her so much is her great big heart and her acute sensitivity to nature. She has brought me quite a distance in the way I see living things, and feel responsible for them. Yet we are still in different places. That’s life. If our world is to survive, we have to think differently, I’m ready to do that.

This morning, Maria had the quite creative idea to take a video of her sniffing the snail. She was certain he was not dead.  I think she just didn’t want him to die.

She took Socrates out, sniffed the shell, and looked at me, and I could see from the look in her eyes that he did smell, and was dead.

I took the video, but I held the I phone the wrong way, and it was no good.  Seeing her decide the snail was dead was a moment. But we are old hands at this now, so we took another video (the one above,) which I actually thought turned out better than the first.

Maria felt strongly enough about this issue that she called me on my weekly radio show “Talking To Animals,” to talk about it this past Wednesday, and she wrote about it on her blog.  I was surprised at how many people wanted to talk and think about this issue, which is bigger than a snail.

I will invite her to come on again next Wednesday and talk about his death and how we both feel about it. (WBTNAM1370).

Do we love all animals equally, or is a dog or cat or donkey more important than a snail?

How much do we owe them when they reach the end of their lives? How much emotional or financial concern?

In a family, who gets to decide when an animal is too sick to live, or how much money we want to spend on keeping them alive? For that matter, how many animals can we love and care for properly?

I don’t think these are all questions that can be answered, but it’s good to ask them and talk about them. It’s good to listen and grow, to drink from your own well.

Maria is saving Socrate’s shell, I imagine he will have another chapter in his life as part of the Windowsill Gallery. Can’t wait to take his picture.

 

11 January

I’m Offering A Prayer For The Mansion. Come Along If You Wish

by Jon Katz

I almost never pray, I am not conventionally religious. Even when I was being wheeled into open heart surgery, I didn’t pray to any God. I simple asked the fates to let me see Maria and my daughter (they were waiting) when I came out the other side. And I did.

I’ve learned that a spiritual life belongs to each of us, not to any one church or faith.

Today, I woke up and was drawn to pray for the Mansion, for the residents, the staff and the families. They are in my head and dreams.

This water and damage drama has gone on for more than a week now, and I can see the toll it’s taking  on the aides, who miss their residents, George, the Mansion owner,  and on the residents themselves, who are increasingly depressed, confused and bewildered.

Their building is dry and clean, and ready for them to return. Everyone says so. I  respect the work that the state authorities have done, I can see much of it was necessary.  But the work that needs to be done has been done, and  it’s time to move forward. I don’t care to fall into the trap of hating and blaming government, I’m sure their workers are acting in good faith.

But at this point, the Mansion is safe. The residents come first.

At this most fragile time of life, they have been upended, their lives turned upside down at a time when they most need stability and compassion. It’s time to get these people home.

And I won’t lie to you,  this is wearing on me as well, it keeps me up at night. It is hard to watch.

But I’m not a resident or an aide or member of anyone’s family.

It’s my job to help, not to need help, but I’ll step out of myself and offer a prayer for the Mansion, it is a time of great need for this community. So join me if you wish, you can pray to any God or no God, or just to the universe in general, or the fates, is what I most often do. But that’s a personal choice, not for me to dictate. I generally pray to the Light, as the Quakers taught me.

I have come to believe in the power of good energy:

Dear Fates, this morning I ask for you to hold these people up to the Light. They are deserving of your attention and compassion. Please let the people in power lift their shut down of this facility and permit the laborers to complete their work.

These are your children and our children, and they are in need. They are vulnerable and dependent on us. We are called to speak on their behalf.

Several of them have already taken ill in their temporary home, it is not the place for them, it is not where they wish to be, it is not where they should be. Please bring them home.

I ask you to life the spirits of the dedicated people who work at the Mansion, their souls are fraying, their hearts are breaking. Please give them the strength and courage to stay hopeful and see the joy in their work, even now.

Most of all, I ask you to hold the residents of the Mansion in the light. They are good, hard-working people,  they have struggled with life all of their lives, and now, they sit on the edge of life, so few days ahead of them, so many struggles in every hour. They are deserving of peace.

There is pain we can’t avoid, and there is suffering we can avoid. Please honor this difference and end their needless suffering.

A good and loving and safe home is sitting empty, waiting for them, there are people they know and trust ready to love and care for them.

I pray for you to collect all this energy – from the Mansion, the staff, the families, the residents themselves, the  Army of Good, me and Maria, and let them come home.

Tonight, we will go to the Mansion and host a bingo game for the four residents who remain there. I pray that by then, we will all know when the residents are coming home.

Thanks much for listening.

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