Flickr photographer cartophobic/never mind her

Our Senses Are the Keys to Appreciating Nature

At first blush, it seems that a sensual appreciation of nature and living a beautiful life can coexist easily. The Italians have enjoyed this balancing act for years. This is my romantic dream, but history teaches us a different story, one in which living a sensual life is under continued assault

We posted a controversial commentary in Going Green a while back, written by the outspoken London Times columnist Melanie Reid, on the topic of environmental righteousness.

Reid writes: “My real problem with the eco-alarmists is the pleasure they take in austerity; their evident desire to strip away pleasure. Deep down, they disapprove of skiing, even on a Scottish scale. They dislike colour, excess and fun. They really do want to see us imprisoned in a narrow, grey, scratchy world of recycled car tyres and hemp lingerie (and no, I didn’t make that up).”

Her words are chosen to inflame, but there’s merit to this argument.

There is an undercurrent to the environmental movement, one at odds with beauty and sensuality.

Remember, I’m a Serrano pepper on the topic of Going Green . . just a woman trying to do the right thing. Like Reid, a small concern in the back of my own mind sounds the alarm bell, fearing that we suddenly pursue eco-purity with such religious zealotry, that we once again deny ourselves the pleasures of enjoying life.

For me those pleasures are flowers, scent, fresh food, bubble baths (I know; I know), babies that aren’t crying, kissing, good friends, and driving sports cars… just to state a few examples of sensual gratification that make up my life.

Facing Facts

I reject Reid’s argument that we have no real evidence of an environmental problem caused my mankind. As humans, we shouldn’t continue our profligate forward march into the future, without a concern for tomorrow or the possibility that we are wrecking unnecessary havoc on the planet.

You could say that I’m trying to “go green”, without losing my soul.

When my friend and I turned out the lights for Earth Day last spring, it was to enjoy a lovely dinner and good conversation by candlelight. We didn’t defend our deed as good and noble, or kid ourselves that a single hour of down time would impact the planet. For us it was a life pause that connected us with others around the world, with a shared concern.

Surely we all could benefit from a techno-free hour with friends, family, and lovers.

The Silence of Small Creatures

Our poignant bird tribute comes from Flickr’s ruslou (away)

When I read that since 1967 the average population of 20 common birds has fallen by 68 percent, while some individual species nose-dived as much as 80 percent, I am genuinely concerned about a world without birdsongs.

I may be grumbling a bit at 5am, waking to a symphony of birdsong in our yard, but then I smile and give thanks for this simple pleasure. Hearing an absolute bird symphony this moment, as the sun sets in Carversville, I can’t imagine the tomb of silence that has settled over so much of the world. I hate to think that we must log online to hear bird songs.

The real decline in our bird population, and not moral conservation arguments, have convinced me that we have a serious bird problem. I don’t want to go willy nilly through life assuming that we don’t need birds, elephants, and honey bees. The cycle of life is far more interconnected than we understand.

Still … I have limits, and I struggle giving up my jacuzzi time at the gym.

How do we balance concern for environment with a belief that simple pleasures make us better people? Sensuality is always getting dragged through the mud by one preacher group or another.

I went to the dictionary for a word check the other day. The results of my hunch were shocking.

The definitions of the beautiful word “sensual” could make the Pope blush:

1. pertaining to, inclined to, or preoccupied with the gratification of the senses or appetites; carnal; fleshly.

2. lacking in moral restraints; lewd or unchaste.

3. arousing or exciting the senses or appetites.

4. worldly; materialistic; irreligious.

5. of or pertaining to the senses or physical sensation; sensory.

6. pertaining to the philosophical doctrine of sensationalism.

Does this suggest that enjoying birdsongs or Chopin makes me lewd, unchaste, and lacking in spirituality? Who decides the meaning of words?

The Thesaurus further condemns me: to be sensual is to be sexual, sexy, suggestive, voluptuous, animalistic, carnal. Alright, I plead guilty as charged on a few. But animalistic? Carnal … because I enjoy Beethoven, orchids and bubblebaths?

How fitting that this photo, and not one of female anatomy, was the shot on top in a Flickr search for Sensual. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but Nature is deeply Sensual. Enjoy steinliland’s glorious photo show. Mother Nature has managed to maintain her decorum, in spite of her highly suggestive mind.

Orthodoxy vs. Licentiousness

Reading Reid’s charges against eco-alarmists caused me to reflect on the ease of losing our sensual perspective. Twice this month, I’ve openly reflected on my life with a committed, internationally-known diplomat and environmentalist. Perhaps finally writing about him puts our history to rest. This channel of deep digging trend will not continue; I promise.

More than at any time in my life, I enjoyed living what I would call “la dolce vita”. He made an incredible risotto. In fact, I, who love to cook, let him take over the kitchen . . both his and mine.

Our differences were minor in my mind. His sheets were incredibly rough and mine 400-count Egyptian fine. We both wash linen napkins, although I turn on the iron and add spray starch to mine. His beautiful bed was made in Bangkok, with a very hard, thin mattress. Mine, too, is extra firm, but it’s one of those very deep, tufted mattresses that you just sink into. I enjoy attending the symphony in person, and he preferred music that was prerecorded.

My Reformation

I remember the first time he asked me to pull my hair back in a much more severe style, as if turning me into a house frau. I held this man in such high regard that, even though I found myself much more attractive with my hair loose, I anchored my locks.

Very slowly over the course of that year, the spontaneous, sensual vitality drained out of me … so much so that several friends commented on the change. I sought the direct advice of another man who knows me well, asking him what was happening to me.

My purpose in sharing these personal details is to underscore how easily we lose touch with nature, with ourselves, with our sensuality, becoming almost robotic in our actions. The appreciation of life comes with our immersion in it, not the discipline of rejecting our own vitality and that of the birds and bees who share our pleasures.

We must find room for us all on the planet, but pleasure should not be thrown overboard.

At Anne of Carversville, pleasure will always triumph over austerity, but I truly hope that the joys of living “la dolce vita” will come to us responsibly and honorably, and with reasonable substitutions and sacrifice, where it seems wise for the well being of future generations, our Planet and also for Her, who I revere.

Trust me, though … She doesn’t wear a bun and preach total austerity. Her hair flows freely, and so should ours. Anne