Pam’s Labyrinth

Pam Gerwe, KUFM Commentary

November 15, 2007

Recently, while walking the dogs on a crisp, clear, morning, I passed a ground squirrel burrow on the edge of the trail. The shelf above this north-facing hole was framed with large, delicate, frosty crystals forming on the grasses. I was mesmerized. So subtly, the rise and fall of tiny ground squirrel breaths float up and out, condensing and freezing on the foliage right outside their door. How lucky I am, to walk, to notice, and to wonder about the large frost crystals fringing a small hole in the ground.

Earlier this year, I watched “Pan’s Labyrinth.” In this movie, a young girl creates a fantasy world to escape her brutal life. That quintessential embodiment of nature, Pan, guides Ofelia’s fantasy life. This adventure with Pan is not pure bliss, but it is only through this fantasy life that Ofelia seems to have any control at all.

This movie resonated with me for I believe we play a part in the creation of our own labyrinth, our own fantasy, every single day.

I have recently noticed a shift in my personal “labyrinth” marked by the magazines I read. A cornucopia of new subscriptions bursts forth from the magazine basket beside my chair: Eating Well, Ode, Yoga Journal, The Sun Times, Traders’ Dispatch. Mother Earth News helps calm Mother Jones.

I feel as if I have done my time with The Progressive, Adbusters, Nuke Watch, Harpers. Many of my subscriptions to these important magazines have lapsed. I know there’s a ton of awful, selfish, greedy things going on out there. But I’m in my 40’s: I realize my life is finite. I don’t want to spend it mired in the fact that a lot of the world kind of sucks.

I want to read about and tell the stories of people like Alice Waters and Ann Cooper’s Lunch Lessons which are revolutionizing school lunches nationwide. Or the story of county extension agent, Bruce Smith, who is wending his way towards an amazing vision of a brewery/culinary school and restaurant featuring local foods way out in Glendive, Montana. Or the story of my sweet little farm where I saw giant frost crystals forming from slumbering ground squirrel breaths. This farm, part of my sweet little life, a fantasy I could easily call “Pam’s Labyrinth.”

And for this labyrinth, for this farm, and for all the people who come here to help diligently, slowly, eke such bounty out of rocky clay, I am so thankful. This summer, we had a micro enterprise with students from a therapeutic boarding school. Once a week they came to maintain their own garden here. They would sell their harvest at a local market. The students shared their earnings with the farm and we bought a solar oven. The solar oven company donates an oven somewhere in Africa for every one they sell. On and on it goes. So, so much bigger than “Pam’s labyrinth.”

A few years ago now, a woman stopped by, asking to work in the garden. We have a strict volunteer policy: Wed morning/Sunday afternoon. Our lives are packed; volunteers take a lot of attention. Also, if distracted, it could be days, even months before my ADD allows me to get back to an abandoned project.

But this woman was determined. Holding back tears she sputtered: “I need the garden right now.” Always happy to avert emotional breakdowns with people I don’t even know, I left her at a row to weed, confident she could discern chickweed from beet greens. After completing my project, I made my way back to this woman in the beet row. We talked, worked together a while. I gave her some food. I never saw her again.

Others also come seeking solace, a beautiful place, sanctuary. 9/11/2001 is another vivid memory. A phone call that morning beckoned us to the radio. I listened a while, but then escaped to the garden. Throughout the day, people stopped by to work in the garden. It seemed we just needed a place to put our confusion, our sorrow, our hope. The gardens took it all, oblivious to our grief, transforming it to nourishment.

I am so lucky. I take no credit, really, for any of it. With or without me, some magazines will talk about the ton of awful, selfish, greedy things going on out there and some magazines won’t. With or without me, the ground squirrels will breathe frost crystals to life. With or without me, innovative programs are going to get people into the dirt and gardens will support, heal, grow. For each of us, our labyrinths, our fantasies, consist of those things of which we partake, those things we stop and notice. I am so thankful my labyrinth includes a few new magazines, so many amazing people, and those large frost crystals fringing a small hole in the ground.

I’m Pam Gerwe, for the Alternative Energy Resources Organization.

AERO welcomes your comments and perspectives. AERO is a grassroots membership organization working to help create farm, food, and energy solutions for communities throughout Montana. For more information about our programs please call us in Helena at 443-7272.