Interview with Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg

imageCMG Negative Capability Press Blog IVGGI Faculty Member, Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg was a featured poet on Negative Capability Press’ blog.

AL: First things first, imagine we could have met anywhere in the world for this interview, where would it have been and what would we be sipping on?

CMG: It would be on my front porch, which faces emerging woodlands composed of mostly cedar and Osage orange trees and a whole lot of bramble. As far as what we’re sipping on, I’m afraid that would be kind of boring: iced tea, but maybe we’d get wild and have a twist of lime in our tea. More to the point for me would be what we’re eating, and since I’ve been thinking a lot about my forthcoming novel, Miriam’s Well, in which my main character cooks and bakes for people throughout the book – and the book also has 40 pages of her recipes in it – I’m going to say we’ll be snacking on chocolate-raspberry rugalach, a Jewish buttery cookie, rolled up and baked into a crescent. Ideally, it would be about 70 degrees with a light breeze and a whole lot of bird song, and my cats would be jumping through the window between the porch and one of the bedrooms, circling us suspiciously but eventually settling down with my big dog, a weimaraner-chocolate lab mix who just showed up at our house one day about six years ago.

To read the entire interview, go here

Posted in Arts-Based Inquiry, Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, Community Building, Creativity & Imagination, Deep Ecology & Bioregionalism, Environmental, Sustainability & Place Studies, Goddard Graduate Institute, Memoir, Life Writing & Autobiography, Miriam's Well, nature, Poetry, Right Livelihood/ Making a Living, Transformative Language Arts | Leave a comment

A Marriage of Spiritual Memoir & Community Workshops: Suzanne Adams

>When Suzanne Adams started IMA’s Transformative Language Arts concentration, she was already changing her life as a freelance writer and suburban stay-at-home Houston mother in a household of males. While she didn’t know what she was shifting toward, she had a sense that this change involved creative writing, community work, and spiritual growth.

She soon herself immersed in writing as a spiritual practice, studying spiritual autobiography, and TLA as a tool for social change and personal growth for girls. One faculty member with an evangelical Christian background suggested Suzanne explore healing stories within the framework of Christianity; another faculty member, who specialized in feminism, prompted Suzanne to write about feminist theology and mythology. Another faculty member’s expertise in workshop facilitation was invaluable in furthering Suzanne’s goal of offering expressive writing workshops in the community. By the end of her studies, she wrote Reclaiming the Lost, a powerful body of essays on spiritual questioning and questing, writing as a calling, and how her changes catalyzed profound changes in her marriage. Accompanying the memoir was a study of mythology, theology, history, literature, sociology and psychology as it related to her topic; and a practicum focused on expressive writing for teenage girls. The writing especially allowed her to write herself into voice, identity, and stronger connections with her family, female divinity, and the wild.

Since graduation, Suzanne was admitted into the Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference, where she found strong encouragement to revise the essay collection toward a memoir about how one spouse’s spiritual development can actually strengthen, and not necessarily, tear apart a marriage. She found even more support from her husband who, after reading her essays, even ones that weren’t very flattering of him and their relationship, said to her, “This is your story, and I think you’ve written it in such a way that would help others, and I encourage you to continue this work.” Suzanne says that his response, “helped us to work for more transformation along the way.” She soon starts working with Farnoosh Moshiri through Moshiri’s Studio 16, a highly competitive writing workshop.

She also started leading workshops in her community. “It’s All About You,” a workshop fostering empowerment, self-discovery and self-esteem for middle school girls, that she first piloted as her TLA practicum at Goddard, is now on its feet at a Houston area middle school as a project of ARTreach, a local grassroots arts organization. Adams is in the middle of facilitating two 90-minute sessions twice a week for five weeks, helping girls negotiate media influences, discover their voices and visions and dismantle damaging messages through writing and art exercises and discussions.

Suzanne found her time at Goddard turbo-charged her quest to write and seek spiritual connection. “When I finally got there, that (being at Goddard) was the biggest catalyst of all. I was taking little baby steps up until that point, and the transformation that came propelled me full-speed ahead,” Suzanne explains.

Posted in Community Building, Feminism, Women's & Gender Studies, Spiritual Memoir, Spirituality & Religion, Transformative Language Arts, Workshops | Tagged | Leave a comment

Sarah Van Hoy Commencement Speech: The Nature of Ecological Mind

Sarah-Van-Hoy-2017-140x112To our graduates – Barbara, Brighde, Erin, Jojo, Ray, Shakti, and Tim – you brought your questions, your care for the world, your insights and genius, your very radiant humanity. We are moved by your work and we are honored to have supported you in that work for the past few semesters.

To the families of our graduates – given or chosen. Your invisible support makes all of this possible.

To the friends, alumni, fellow students. Your presence indeed makes this a beloved community.

To our Program Director, Ruth Farmer, who works so lovingly and tirelessly behind the scenes, thank you for your endless support.

We acknowledge, also, the Winooski River watershed and the land that holds us during our time here, and we acknowledge the Abenaki people of the Wabenaki Confederacy. For Abenaki, this place is N’dakinna, or homeland, the unceded territory where they have lived continuously for fourteen thousand years.

As we acknowledge and presence the relationship between first peoples and this land, we invite into our field an awareness of the arc of history inside which the moment of our commencement ceremony is situated. The history that holds us moves from the ancient Beech and Maple forests of Northeast Turtle Island, through clearings of land, language, bodies, and culture — through centuries of colonization, dispossession, and resource extraction, and toward the precarious and fragile present in which we find ourselves here and now.

A visceral acknowledgement of this history also reminds us that the dystopian futures that we seek to avert have in many ways already happened. We cannot avert future dystopias while keeping the current ones in place. As Potawatami scholar Kyle Powis Whyte states, “for many Indigenous peoples in North America, we are already living in what our ancestors would have understood as dystopian or post-apocalyptic times. In a cataclysmically short period, the capitalist–colonialist partnership has destroyed our relationships with thousands of species and ecosystems.” (And other scholars have added: destroyed social relationships and structures and replaced them with consumerism, white supremacy and cis-heteropatriarchy.)

These visceral acknowledgements remind us, finally, that colonization is not an historic event but a set of contemporary processes and structures that continually act upon our bodies, our minds, our desires. They are enacted upon our language and the ways we create knowledge and they are enacted through consequences of that knowledge-making.

A visceral acknowledgement, a presencing of time and place, allows us not just to cope with or strategize about or comfort ourselves, not just to rest in the self-satisfaction of privileged access to dwindling resources and cultures of appropriation – but to feel deeply and respond deeply to what is happening inside larger social and ecological bodies. We become permeable to our longing, to our own ancestral memories, to our grief and hope, and to our visions for possible futures. Futures in which we remember and restore our ecological body, resist the sometimes alluring forms that disconnection can take, and revive the desires and languages that connect us to ourselves and to our human and ecological communities and hold us accountable to each other.

In so many ways, our graduates are demonstrating this work for us. They are mending the splits that have resulted from colonized knowledge making in each of their fields, whether it be linguistics, or health care, or poetics, or education.

So here we are at their commencement.

And commencement is, after all, an ecological word. It signifies a beginning and an ending, a beginning within an ending, a seasonal transition between one form to another. So as a way of acknowledging our graduates and their magnificent endeavors, we will track them through the Goddard seasons as they transition into new forms.

Our Goddard graduates came to us with something like the seed form of their work.

trichodesma genus includes forget me nots-SVHSeeds are very cool magical packages of potential. They contain both memory and futurity. And they use complex sacred mathematics to supercoil their embryonic DNA into highly intelligent, poetic condensations. Seeds often require a little adversity –many require freezing temperatures, fire, wind, or journeys through intestinal landscapes in order to germinate.

Also, seeds have tremendous personality differences. If you have ever looked at them under microscopes (you can Google this) you’ll see seeds with all kinds of interesting costumery. Some seeds are simple and sweet, some are complicated and mysterious, all are magical.

Graduates, you brought to us the seeds of your work, the supercoiled hybrid memory-futures of your questions, your intentions, your longings — your potentiated essence woven into spirals waiting to be unraveled and manifested.

Now there may have been different conscious reasons for coming to Goddard.

  • Decades of life experience to recognize and build upon
  • Not wanting to wade through someone else’s curricula
  • Not wanting to take the same courses, write the same papers, or to reproduce the same knowledge that already exists
  • Not wanting to be processed by the academic equivalent of corporate agriculture
  • Realizing it might take three traditional degrees to hold all your interests (economizing)
  • Or experiencing Goddard yourself as an undergrad!

Goddard alum Kris Hege states: you come to Goddard “when your ideas can’t be contained by any disciplinary box and when your body knows what the world needs to know.”

Justin Kagan adds: “(and) if your question is also a call to action to see the world differently.”

Whatever the conscious reason, your seed’s desire was to actualize its vision. And you listened. You honored this seed knowledge.ivy leafed toadflax seed-SVH

So then what happened?

Well, a seed goes through its necessary adversity (heat, cold, digestion, poop, trips through airports, etc) and then sits in the soil getting wet and swelling up. The protoplasm is activated. The seed coat starts to loosen. And eventually (drumroll) a little radicle pops out. This radicle is R-A-D-I-C-L-E.

You may remember the moment when your radicle first appeared. Maybe it was in someone else’s graduating student presentation. Or the Embodiment Studies colloquium. Or a conversation in the dining hall. You felt a little tingling and all of a sudden … woop … there is was. The little radicle.

It is different for everyone of course. You had to trust the process.

The radicle came out and then started to grow and bury itself … it was to become your root system and this is why maybe you felt a little upside down.

This is a variety of embodied knowing.

You put your roots down into the soil of your inquiry and grow connections. You start to feel more and more anchored. The roots are branching out like crazy and you’re having all kinds of symbiotic relationships with various microorganisms in the soil, exchanging nutrients and whatnot, and while you’re at it you’re actually changing the nature of the soil itself.

((A little thing about plants here. They make and use serotonin, which for us is a neurotransmitter, though “the reality is that neurotransmitters predate the formation of nervous tissue.” Serotonin and chemically similar compounds like auxin, melatonin, psylocibin, DMT share a structure called the indole ring – a structure that is very good at converting photons to biological energy and thus it played a role in our planet’s shift to an oxygen heavy atmosphere.

In plants these indole ring compounds will tend to increase branching and growth and in humans they enhance neutral networks.))

((Incidentally, chlorophyll also has ring structures but it is different. Chlorophyll looks a lot like hemoglobin – if you replace the iron in blood with magnesium you get chlorophyll. ))

Materially and poetically, we can make generative connections between plants and humans and the nature of ecological mind. The capacity (materially and poetically) to make connections, to form nourishing relationships, to anchor oneself in the soil and to influence the soil itself – this is both an epistemological and ecological activity. Eduardo Kohn, in his book How Forests Think, suggests: “How thoughts grow by association with other thoughts is not categorically different from how selves relate to each other. Semiosis is alive.”

Meanwhile, on the other end of the plant, while the roots are busy underground making connections, the rest of the plant is bringing this energy up and out – seeking sunlight, engaging obstacles, trellising oneself upon objects, including other plants, using math to structure itself, transforming (translating) light into biology or vision into meaning.

If Donna Haraway asks: “what can thinking mean in the civilization in which we find ourselves” our plant metaphors tell us that new forms of thinking create new worlds, new possibilities for life.

So in case anyone couldn’t figure it out, I am describing the botanical equivalent of writing packets … or theses.

And now, here we are. Our graduates have written their packets, written their theses, and yesterday and this morning we had the pleasure of seeing the fruits of those efforts in the form of their graduating student presentations.

For those of us who were present, I would suggest that we were witnessing, with each student, the unique blossom or fruit that has emerged from that very first seed that each of our graduates brought to Goddard at the beginning of this journey.

We have seen how they each embody their love for the world in their work. We have seen how each of them are addressing this history of colonization in some way – working with decolonizing translation, reconnecting love and medicine, working with language as a living body, bridging the apparent gap between language and music, exploring the deep ecologies of our gut biome, remembering breath and joy, creating new poetic forms for research. Their work is an unfurling of petals and tendrils, a ripening of fruits – sharing and nourishing and teaching us.

thistle of the centaurea genus-SVHIt is an incredibly vulnerable experience this flower and fruit business. It requires vulnerability to make yourself visible, and it requires vulnerability to witness someone’s beauty. But the reciprocity of visibility and recognition are essential to the fruition of knowing, doing and being. Together we have participated in this exquisite witnessing and listening, this sharing and recognition. This is the work of connection, of pollination, and of harvest.

And this is some of the juice and nourishment of belonging to a Beloved Community.

Speaking of Anishinaabe agriculture, and the practice of growing corn and beans and squash all together in one mound, Robin Wall Kimmerer reminds us what the plants teach us: “The gifts of each are more fully expressed with they are nurtured together. In ripe ears and swelling fruit, they counsel us that all gifts are multiplied in relationship. This is how the world keeps going.”

And so commencement. The end is a new beginning.delphinium larkspar-SVH

Our graduates will leave us. And their capacities to incubate, grow and share ideas in organic, purposeful ways are essential for the world, especially now and especially here. The world needs our graduates to envision and innovate, to make new connections, to implement and refine their visions, to teach, lead and build communities.

They leave us but with their seeds multiplied through this season of growth.

Anishinaabeg scholar Leanne Simpson says in an interview with Naomi Klein:

I think it’s about the fertility of ideas and the fertility of alternatives. One of the things birds do in our creation stories is they plant seeds and they bring forth new ideas and they grow those ideas. Seeds are the encapsulation of wisdom and potential and the birds carry those seeds around the earth and grew this earth. And I think we all have that responsibility to find those seeds, to plant those seeds, to give birth to these new ideas. Because people think up an idea but then don’t articulate it, or don’t tell anybody about it, and don’t build a community around it, and don’t do it.

So in Anishinaabeg philosophy, if you have a dream, if you have a vision, you share that with your community, and then you have a responsibility for bringing that dream forth, or that vision forth into a reality. That’s the process of regeneration. That’s the process of bringing forth more life.

So dear, beloved graduates:yanping wang-SVH

May the seeds of your potential, those magical packets of supercoiled cosmic mind, dripping as they are with the juice of this experience, be planted again and again and again.

May you respond to the pull of the sun and the warm wet earth beneath you.

May you not fear your own mystery.

May you trust your radical vision.

May you send out the most flamboyant blossoms into the world, seeking pollinators.

And may you find the communities that will Recognize who you are.

We are so grateful for what you have given us. Our hearts are full. We love you. We’ll miss you.


Posted in Creativity & Imagination, Deep Ecology & Bioregionalism, Ecology, Embodiment Studies, Goddard Graduate Institute, Graduation, Health Arts and Sciences, Interdisciplinary Studies, Methodology, Sarah Van Hoy | Leave a comment

Larry Greer: A Calling for Death and Dying

>When Larry Greer, a building contractor in Maine, first received a Goddard postcard in the mail, he ignored it, thinking there was no reason for him to finish his bachelor’s degree. But then a little magic and his wife, Peggy, intervened, and the next thing he knew, he and Peggy were driving to the college to learn about the programs offered. When he saw the sign that said, “Goddard College,” he started crying without having any idea why. “If you told me then what would happen, I would have laughed in your face. No way would this lead to me holding the hand of someone who’s dying,” Greer said.

Fast forward almost a decade, and you can find Greer, now an ordained Interfaith minister, who specializes in death and dying, educating groups of ministers all over Maine on how to help parishioners come to terms with death. He completed his BA and his MA at Goddard, both degrees bringing him deeper into end-of-life studies. During his MA degree, he also developed a curriculum to help pastors as well as the general public cultivate greater awareness about death and dying in their lives and communities. He gives talks to medical professionals, including University of Maine nursing students, and Maine Medical Center doctors on the spirituality of death. Recently, he started leading workshops, based on Stephen Levine’s ground-breaking book, A Year to Live, to three groups that include people as young as 20 and as old as 70 to explore issues such as unfinished business, forgiveness, and what people want in terms of disposal of the body.

His main job as an interfaith minister contracted with a local hospital in Scarborough, ME, to provide spiritual care for their patients brings him to nursing and assisted living facilities, homes, and hospitals. His work doesn’t just inspire people; it brings them to his door. He tells the recent story of sitting down to dinner with his kids and grandkids when someone knocked at the door, and said, “My friend is dying.” He looked at his family, who completely support his work, and they told him he had to go.

His work and calling are one and the same. “There is that piece, the call, and if don’t answer it, it becomes a monologue, and not a dialogue.” He’s answered the call that came to him through a postcard in the mail, and it turned out to an extensive dialogue that provides others ways to engage with the biggest questions of their lives.

Pictures: Larry at home in Alfred, ME., and the studio where he gives some of his workshops. You can also contact Larry at directly to arrange talks or workshops.

Posted in Community Building, Death and Dying Studies/Pastoral Care, Spiritual Memoir, Spirituality & Religion | Tagged | Leave a comment

Emily Wrede: Toward a New Definition of Consciousness

Emily Wrede, a recent graduate in the Consciousness Studies concentration of the Goddard Graduate Institute, describes her journey toward integrating subjective experience, storytelling, and embodied practices into a new definition of consciousness. She speaks here about finding new ways to seeing the self and engaging a greater breadt of who we are. As she writes in her thesis, Bringing Inner Experience to the Fore: First Person Consciousness and the Value of Subjectivity, and talks about in this podcast, she is looking toward how to find greater connections to what’s within and around us through the lenses of mindfulness, transpersonal psychology, breathwork, meditation, dance and music, and other arts. Take a listen here.

Posted in Consciousness Studies/Transpersonal Psychology, Embodiment Studies & Body Image, Identity | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

A Conversation with Francis Xavier Charet

FXCharetFaculty member and Consciousness Studies Coordinator, Francis Charet, explores consciousness, knowledge, and big questions with Richard Whittaker in an interview in Works & Conversations.

Richard Whittaker:  Well, where to begin? Maybe I can ask a big question: what are your larger concerns?

Francis Xavier Charet:  You know, where I teach at Goddard, we have an unofficial mantra—“knowing, being, and doing”— first, the acquisition of knowledge, which has to do not only with putting together material culled from various sources, but also experiential knowledge. That leads to the “being” part—how do you connect to it? Then, there’s the doing part—what does this have to do with your immediate community, and the larger world? And having those expectations of our students, we try to model them also in our own lives and in the work we do. So, not only do I have, let’s say, a professional interest related to Consciousness Studies, and the questions and issues therein, but how can these things be applied so that neither the students nor I are just living inside our own fishbowls.

To read the entire interview, go here.

Posted in Consciousness Studies/Transpersonal Psychology, Cultural & Cross-Cultural Studies, Faculty, Francis X. Charet, Goddard Graduate Institute, Identity, Interdisciplinary Studies, Progressive Education | Leave a comment

Kit Miller on Non-Violence, Social Change, and Restorative Justice

Listen to Kit Miller talk about the path that led her to serve as the director of the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence, and study in the Social Innovation and Sustainability MA program at Goddard College. She shares what led her to study nonviolence — and yes, it has to do with being a mom of a bunch of little kids — and where she’s gone with this work in her life, her community, and beyond.

Posted in Community Building, Restorative Justice, Social Innovation, Storytelling | Tagged , | Leave a comment