Our (un)Common Good

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service conserves and manages fish, wildlife, plants and habitats for the American people—a service recognized since 1871 (in its earliest forms) as a “common good” that people willingly supported through taxes. We tend to think of our forebears as strictly pragmatic utilitarians, especially concerning creatures typical of the human diet. Indeed, the Bureau of Fisheries began when food fish declined, as a practical effort to figure out why, and how to attempt a fix. In some ways, however, our ancestors were more directly conscious of the mutuality between humans and other residents of our habitats. In these days of shrunken budgets for agencies with ecological missions, “Friends” groups rise up to provide direct pathways for individuals to support the networks of air, water, soil and climate that connect humans and beyond-humans in our challenges and our thriving.

For example, Friends support Maine Coastal Islands National Wildlife Refuge in its efforts to conserve, protect, and enhance the rich diversity of coastal habitats, seabirds, and other wildlife on almost 9500 acres of five national wildlife refuges. This extends over 73 islands plus some onshore coastal areas. With a Maine publisher and a two-author discussion event to introduce my new story collection in my original home state, this Friends organization seemed like a solid group to receive book proceeds. The embarrassing glitch: how small a dollar amount that would be, in the face of such growing need. No matter where i look, the need always looms larger than my personal resources will reach.

The amount of the donation, however, is absolutely not the point. A practice of generosity opens the heart and the hand to touch the beingness and mystery of “others” who in often unknown but inarguable ways are also part of our common good. All Life flourishes together on this entangled being sometimes called Gaia, our planetary home, our earthly Mother. While many bunker-minded billionaires seem ever more fearful and grasping, the practice of generosity proves a counter-intuitive way to grow more confident in our caring. My choice of beneficiary organization was quickly seconded by the book’s cover artist, DL Duda, who offered the entire purchase price for not just one, but two original paintings of Paintbrush, a dairy cow from the story “Two and a Half.” The epigraph for the story collection is the beginning of a stanza in Gary Snyder’s “Prayer for the Great Family,” and that stanza ends by--intriguingly--describing wild beings as self-complete, brave, and aware. Generosity builds muscle around our collective courage as we restore awareness of our greater selves, and our larger families. If your bravery could use a boost, try giving a small donation or some volunteer time to a cause meaningful to you, and feel the change.