Resiliency Muscles

One oShe Stood in the Stormf the coolest things developing within me right now is a much deeper appreciation of my resiliency.

For a long time I viewed my dysfunctional, rough poor childhood and wildly redneck family as something that would always hold me down. And I worried my natural tendency to take risks was somehow a block to real success. What I’ve now come to realize is that the challenges and experiences of that particular crazy path have given me extraordinary resiliency.

It’s one thing to stand strong when things are going smoothly but it’s something else again TO RISE UP STRONG after taking a hard hit. I think it’s only when we really have to force ourselves to be strong that we learn how strong we really are.

And those RESILIENCY MUSCLES are quicker to flex when they’ve had a lot of heavy and repeated exercise! And just like after an intense workout, when you towel away the sweat, or in the case of trauma, the tears, and see that you were strong enough to make it through, the memory of the pain start to fade replaced by that delicious feeling of accomplishment.

As the beautiful Maya Angelou said, “I can be changed by what happens to me. I refuse to be reduced by it.”

Here’s to knowing, growing, flexing and loving our resiliency muscles and all the hard exercise that developed them!

Cylvia Hayes

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Where’s the Tragedy?

Not how the story is going to endA well-me­­aning colleague with the very best of intentions has several times described what happened to me as a tragedy.  Each time it made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t nail down why. Until now.

I finally realized that viewing these challenges as a tragedy leaves me feeling like a victim. It seems to suggest that the attacks, the ordeal of being publically shamed has irreparably damaged, derailed and diminished my work and my life. Well, in fact, for the first year or so part of me was terrified and tortured by that very belief. But not anymore.

What I’ve come to see is that the whole painful mess has been something of a spiritual intervention. It was the first time in my life that I really slowed down – because I was finally forced to. Not only was my work abruptly taken from me but I was so emotionally broken and exhausted that I finally surrendered to Spirit. I described the amazing beauty in that experience in one of my very first blog posts.

I feel so grateful, and a bit proud of myself, to realize now how much I’ve grown since those early blog posts nearly a year ago. And that is why I don’t view what happened to me as a tragedy. I have been a spiritual seeker and journeyer most of my adult life, but the ordeal of public shaming helped me to realize that in many ways I’d just been giving it lip service, skimming along the surface.

Though I’ve believed most of my adult life that we are spiritual beings in a physical phase I’d been letting the physical stuff dictate my actions, my thinking, my reality. Only occasionally did I dip beneath that surface and dive into the awesome beauty of deeper truths. Now that I’ve had so much time to explore those waters I realize how much I’ve been limiting myself.

I know it’s not irrational for my friend to view this situation as tragic. I also know it’s not irrational for me to sense the opportunities in the bigger picture and disagree.

I believe I was ready for this growth, this learning. Has it been hard? Yes! Life-changing? Yes. Gut and tear-wrenching? Yes.

Rich? Yes. Transformative? Yes. Beautiful in completely unexpected ways? Yes!

Definitions of tragedy include “a disastrous event”, a “calamity” and something that “has a sorrowful, disastrous conclusion.” I’m sorry but I refuse to allow what I am going through to come to a disastrous conclusion.

Did I want the pain, humiliation and bone-weary exhaustion brought on by the public shaming? Hell no!

Do I want to live the rest of my life immersed in this new, richer, deeper perspective on life? Absolutely!

Where’s the tragedy in that?

Cylvia Hayes

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Pulling My Head Out of My ……

I had Cyl in honeysuckles -- 6-16a rough couple of days. My work commitments felt overwhelming. Deadlines for some clients, other clients who weren’t paying on time and the ongoing media bullying laid me low. I walked out of the sunshine, figuratively and literally, into a self-created prison of fear and worry. I allowed myself to forget my own enoughness and wallow around a bit in frustration and victimhood.

This morning, though reluctant to face the day, I beat back the temptation to zone out on the couch with the shade drawn and walked back into the sunshine, physically and emotionally.

Out on my little deck, I breathed deeply, eyes closed, sunshine warming my face. The rich sweet of honeysuckle blossoms infused me. Soon I heard the high-pitched buzzing of tiny, fierce hummingbirds staking out their claims among the masses of fragrant flowered vines.

Next I reawakened to the free-flying, chattering sparrows, raucous jays and honeybees drinking from beads of dew on a deck chair. Despite myself I smiled. Realizing it was the first time I’d done so in a couple days made me smile again.

I breathed in the fragrant, rich life and pulled my head out of my …… gloominess and fear. A flood of gratitude flowed, thankfulness for all the goodness in my life. Even gratitude for the occasional self-imposed imprisonments because they help me remember the exquisite freedom in sunshine, birdsong and honeysuckle on the breeze.

And each time I get back up, dust myself off and move forward with gratitude I remember how to reclaim my power, knowing that I have the ability to choose my mood.

A reluctant morning turned beautiful day. Onward.

P.S.  Yep those honeysuckles in the photo are the very ones who helped me pull my head out of the gloomy funk!  I think I’ll give them a little grateful dose of fertilizer!

Cylvia Hayes 

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Treasures in the Crap!

I aGifts in Adversity Krista Tippetm finding that during periods of sort of chronic, intense, prolonged challenge it is during the flare-ups, the acute episodes of crap that we can see how much we’ve grown!

It is now twenty months (almost two years!!) that I have been dealing with the corporate media agenda-driven character assassination. Not in a million years would I have seen it coming. And not in two million would I have believed it could go on this long.

It’s surreal to be in a place where battling the major media outlet in the state and never knowing what the next bit of misinformation about me will be spread around has become just the normal back drop of my life, and yet, in the midst of it, I am happy, hopeful and peaceful most of the time. That kind of amazes me.

But every once in awhile in a long, drawn out ordeal, some new twist, a flare up, kicks me in the gut, hits its mark and buckles my knees. That happened on Wednesday when I learned that a judge, with her own political interests, had ruled that I would have to pay the legal fees of the dishonest media outlet that had been the source of much of the misinformation about me. The amount of the legal fees are more than I owe for my house.

For the first little while I actually couldn’t believe it because the whole premise was so absurd that I was sure the ruling would go in the other direction. But then the sense of loss and being so small against the challenge, the attackers and the system settled in.

I came within a hair’s breadth of succumbing to a dirty bathrobe on the couch day drinking beer binge-watching TV – basically collapsing and numbing out. But just as my hand reached for the TV remote control I had a thought – “Maybe this was actually the very best thing that could happen? Maybe this ongoing challenge and the obvious piling on by this very questionable news outlet would be the avenue through which I could help us get to healthier and more honest media and political systems? Maybe I was exactly where I needed to be to do the most good.”

My mood instantly shifted and, even though the entire rest of the day was consumed by dealing with this flare up, I didn’t resist it. I kept breathing deeply and stayed focused on the truth that I had no way of knowing the good that could come from this seeming problem.

Twenty months ago, when my life seemed to be flowing along smoothly, there is no question that if this flare up had hit me I would have picked up the TV remote control and never gotten out of my bathrobe.

I’m beginning to see that something is only a setback if we choose to see it as one.

Just incredible the treasures we can find buried in the crap. I mean just think about what’s in the fertilizer that helps our gardens grow. Here’s to harnessing adversity to fertilize our souls!

Cylvia Hayes

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An Extraordinary Gift to Myself

Just thForgiveness is a gift to YOUe other day I gave myself an extraordinary gift. I forgave someone who had hurt me. I had considered this person a genuine friend. We had shared some powerful experiences and had worked together, with shared values to do what we could to protect and restore nature and our environment. She had been one of the very few I reached out to when the media shaming and accusations seized my life.

Then, she abandoned me, turned and fled. There were only a few of those close betrayals that hurt beyond belief and she was one. I felt used and discarded.

I had not heard from her in over a year when she left a voice message asking if I would meet with her. My first response was to reject her because I wanted to hurt her back.  It took me several days to remember that was not how or who I wanted to be.

The morning we were to meet I allowed myself to feel the hurt and the desire to make her hurt in return. But as I sat with it, I realized that she had been in a difficult position. The media was going after everyone closely associated with me, especially those who were working on environmental, clean energy or climate change issues. The primary media attackers were pro-fossil fuel climate deniers and it had been an agenda-driven assault. I could see the humanness of her fear-based abandonment. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

She was a few minutes late getting to the restaurant and I had a fleeting, insecure thought that perhaps she had stood me up just to rub salt in the wound. Then I caught myself — I knew she wouldn’t do that. Next I thought, “Perhaps I should stand her up to show how angry and hurt I am?!” Then I remembered who I was.

Our meeting was awkward – pain, guilt and embarrassment bubbling under the surface. I was surprisingly nervous. We spoke of safe, peripheral things and allowed no dangerous silences between sentences, exclaiming about the tastiness of the food.

Then I centered myself.  I leaned back a little and looked across the table, seeing not an enemy who had hurt me, but a sister, someone I’d cared about, who in a tough spot had made a very human decision that she was now ashamed of.

I started to speak, trying, unsuccessfully,  to blink back painfully vulnerable tears. I said:

You know there were a few abandonments that hurt the most and you were one of them. But I’ve been thinking and though I’m not saying it was OK, I do understand it given the professional issues we were working on, the toxic media environment and all the fear-based political maneuvering advice you were likely being given. I am not sure that at that time if our roles had been reversed I wouldn’t have done the same thing. But I am sure that this version of me sitting across from you wouldn’t.

With that her tears flowed. She said, “Thank you for saying that,” and explained she had acted out of fear, felt terrible about it and certainly wasn’t proud of how she’d handled it.

We hugged as we parted and she thanked me for “taking a risk.”

I am thanking her for taking the risk to reach out, to make an opening to allow me to express my hurt and to face the chance that I might have acted on my desire to cause her pain return. That took real courage.

I was moved, a little unsettled, for the entire rest of the day. I felt a release, a strength and warmness of heart. It is one of the most pure, real-time examples of the power of forgiveness I’ve ever experienced.  I don’t know how it felt to her, though I hope it was good; amazingly, the gift in my forgiveness was for me!

Cylvia Hayes

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Discovering my Mother

I dedicate this to Frances Killingsworth, my lovely and gently strong Mother.

Cyl and Mom 2009 croppedOne of the most precious beautiful jewels unearthed during my devastatingly painful year of public shaming was the transformation of my relationship with my mother.

Although Mom was very loving and supportive in my early childhood, due to a whole variety of family dynamics things fell apart in my early teens and my mother had not been my go-to person or safe harbor since.

In fact, I was almost two weeks into my horrendous ordeal before I called her. I did not know how she would respond to the mess I was sitting in. She floored me with her fierce protectiveness and kindness. She let me know with greater fervor than ever before in my adult life that she was extremely proud of me and respected what I had done with my life. She ranted about how “mean and nasty” the media was and that she wouldn’t have anything to do with them, even though they kept calling her.

Her words of love and support and safety flowed over me like warm rain or soft tears. I found myself wanting to share with her how the current, ongoing attacks were triggering, once again, in a devastatingly powerful and inescapable way, the deep, dark family traumas that I had worked so hard to heal from. This had always been something of a landmine subject in my family but that day, lonely and wounded, my need was overwhelming and I opened up to her.

More than ever before she just listened, intently, warmly. And then she blew my mind when she said, “You know those experiences from our childhood really affect us. I’m 77 years old and I am dealing with that from my own childhood right now.” She went on to explain how, having lost her husband of nineteen years only two months prior she was struggling to overcome fear of living alone due to events and programming she’d received as a young girl. I was astounded that she was dealing with such things at her age and amazed and grateful that she shared them with me.

This turned out to be one of the deepest, most mutually supportive conversations we had ever had.

Just a few days later, still in the heat of the media firestorm, OregonLive posted a follow up piece in which my mother had spoken to a reporter in Oklahoma. I was stunned, angry and deeply upset. Although everything she said was supportive of me I was shocked that she would talk to the media without even telling me. Feeling utterly under-attack, with stomach roiling, I called her.

I asked why she had talked to a reporter when she said she wasn’t going to. She stammered and said a strange man had knocked on her door, and, already unsettled being there alone, it rattled her. Yet, in her southern hospitality style she opened the door. He jumped her with questions. She tried telling him she had just lost her husband and was uncomfortable with him being there. He just kept at her with questions about me and explained that he was there on behalf of the Oregonian.

She told me all this nervously and then said, “Cylvia, I’m sorry.” In that instant my anger melted, replaced by compassion and guilt. I told her I was the one who was sorry, so sorry that she had been put through that as a result of my mess. And then, for the first time in a long, long time, that warm fierce urge to protect her, to keep her from pain, surged up from below old, tired wounds and layers of armor.

A few months later I decided to visit her and embarked on a long, car-camping road trip, just me and my beloved big dog, Tessa. Over the next week, camping in beautiful, remote places, I crossed nearly two thousand miles. It was a peaceful, soothing quest, but over the last several hundred miles I grew unsettled. Uncomfortable remnant memories dashed around and poked at old deep bruises.

I kept taking deep, belly breaths, focused on staying calm and open. At the entrance to the long dirt road leading to her house I stopped the car, took several breaths and focused my intent on staying in a place of love, toward her and toward myself.

Mom was waiting for me at the end of the driveway. She looked very small and bright and familiar. I got out and let a car-weary Tessa out to stretch her long legs. And then I embraced my mother and for a long, long time as tears welled in my eyes.

Much later, after the best visit we had ever shared, and the long trek home, my mom told me that that hug felt different. She said it felt like I had “accepted her back as my Mama.”   I realized the moment she said it she was right. I may have been nearly fifty years old but I was at a place where I just wanted my mommy. I got over myself, our past, the old identities and just let my heart fall.

I am deeply, immeasurably grateful that hers was there to catch it.

Cylvia Hayes

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The Seductive Thief

EGO edging God outEgo is such a seductive thief. I’m not talking about the obvious aspects of ego such as arrogance, pride and insecurity. I am talking about ego with a big “E”. This is the Ego that constructs the appearances, rigid beliefs and false identities we wrap ourselves in trying to overcome the deep core feeling of not being good enough.

Realizing how ego-driven I have been is one of the most embarrassing but also beautiful, life-transforming insights of this past challenging year and a half.

I am someone who has based a huge amount of my self-esteem on my performance, what I was able to accomplish, “out there” in the competitive world. And the somewhat humiliating truth is that I have wanted to be recognized for it. I needed validation from others to feel valuable. Even now it feels unsettling and vulnerable to openly express this.

For someone like me there likely was no hotter crucible than public shaming, being smeared, lied about, devalued over and over again. The powerlessness of not even having a way to come to my own defense clawed and chewed like a wild beast eating me from the inside out.

But now, distance, reflection and healing allows me to understand that I required this type of trauma to get to a place where I can decipher Ego from Truth. I can see so clearly now that all the constructs of my “enoughness strategies” – the busyness, the striving to feel important, the high-profile work and position – were just a house made of glass.

When the stones flew and the shell shattered, Ego was exposed and for a time paralyzed, and there I met Self, the real me behind and beyond all the constructs and illusions. I was stunned to the point of tears the first time I realized that that Self was beautiful, good and enough! Ego had been robbing me of this knowing.

Through meditation, counseling, reflection and study I have been very intentionally developing my relationship with my Self. And here’s the most mind-blowing part. When my accomplishments were trashed, my work and position were torn away, I raged, Ego fighting desperately to keep those constructs and appearances in place, to protect my familiar identity – to no avail. Then, amazingly, standing in the shards and fragments of who I thought I was I realized I hadn’t become less but in fact, could see that I was far more than I ever dreamed. Clinging so tightly to a constructed identity had been limiting my Self. There is a whole new world, a deeper, richer reality that I had been blindly skipping right past.

I sometimes feel like Truman Burbank from the Truman Show movie when he realizes his whole comfortable life had so far been lived in a small, constructed bubble isolated from reality. That is exactly what the Ego does to us when we are blind to it. It robs us of the adventure and splendor of our deeper selves, of the I Am.

I Am and I am so excited to move forward into the rest of my life, the next part of the adventure, with this new and growing awareness.

I truly, truly hope that sharing some of this will be helpful to those of you who are on your own journeys beyond Ego to Self. Imagine what our world could be like if we met one another from such a place?

Here’s to reclaiming our Selves from the Seductive Thief.

Cylvia Hayes

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The Price and Pricelessness of Caring

Once yCyl on Smith Rock hike w Kathleen Ackley -- 5-14ou walk through certain doors you can never return. Once you open your eyes or heart to certain things the course of your life is changed forever.

This happened to me in my early twenties. I had just taken the plunge to become a first generation college graduate and was attending courses at the nearest community college. One of the early classes was about environmental issues and in it I learned that we were hemorrhaging species from our planet due to human impacts like pollution, deforestation, destruction of habitat, etc. From the time I was a little girl I have felt an awe and love for the myriad of creatures we share this planet with. Knowing we were destroying them lit a fire in me that has guided my work and my life ever since.

There have been many, many times when part of me wished I didn’t know what was happening, wished I could stay ignorant. Sometimes I am brought to tears by the latest report of a species vanishing or a pristine wild place being torn apart. The worse part is knowing that I contribute to the damage by driving, flying and consuming certain products.

Allowing ourselves to know and care about something much bigger than we are is risky. It opens us to hurt and often leaves us feeling small and insignificant. But it also opens us up to magic.

I wouldn’t trade my love for our beautiful blue planet for anything because even though the caring comes at a price it also is a priceless gift. I am tremendously grateful that my calling found me early in life. I believe meaningful work is one of the most important requirements for happiness. The sadness of knowledge is easily outweighed by the sense of purpose, the richness of knowing I am using my life to try to make a difference. That is my True North, and in my darkest times it has always been something that has helped me pull through, stand up and keep moving.

There are so many good causes and so many brave people who take the risk of caring, stepping through doors they will never be able to close again and all are inspirational. But today, in honor of Earth Day, I wanted to share these feelings and give a shout out to all my fellow environmentalists who suffer the pain of opening their eyes and minds to the damage we are causing to this small, miraculous planet and are ridiculed for caring, called “Tree-Huggers” (as if that’s a bad thing) and yet continue to move forward with purpose.

Remember, though much remains to be done, we’ve had some huge successes when we’ve focused our collective minds and hearts. We came together and put a global ban on chemicals that were eating a hole in the ozone layer and now it is beginning to heal. Due to recovery efforts once-endangered gray wolves, bald eagles, and brown pelicans are now growing in numbers. Just last year the Oregon Chub became the first fish species to have recovered enough to be taken off the endangered species list. Nature heals when we give it a chance.

I hope all of you who open yourselves up to the potential pain of caring about and working on great causes that are far bigger than you find joy, satisfaction and hope and happiness in your decision to care and to love. Thank you for your courage.

As Dr. Suess’ pointed out in The Lorax, “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

Happy Earth Day!

Cylvia Hayes

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Living In, and Out, of Chains

Imagine being locked down in a tiny space your entire life, chained, 24 – 7, to a post. Your entire world is a tiny patch of hard ground. Standing, lying, pacing, always lugging the relentless weight of the chain.

The very image is appalling, yet sadly, countless dogs live their entire lives in those very lonely and unnatural conditions.

My heart always aches when I see these social, active creatures chained and alone. This past spring I decided to do something about it and signed up to volunteer with Fences For Fido, an all volunteer organization that raises money and supplies to build fences for dogs who are living on chains.

My first fence build was in March in LaPine. The goal was to free two Blue Heeler types and a young black lab mix. I dressed in fleece and layers as it was cold that day. The welcome, however, was warm.  Central Oregon Director, La Donna Sullivan, flashed her bright sunshine smile and guided me to Sue Wente, dark-haired, hard working and quiet, but with a delightful dry sense of humor.

A team of ten or so men and women pitched in, some pounding metal fence posts into the ground; some bending and stapling wire, others building gates and dog houses. Sue, in addition to training volunteers, also functions as the DJ providing an assortment of upbeat music. Many of us boogied down as we pounded stakes and fastened wire.

We built the fence right around the trees the dogs were chained to. Snow began to fall, heavily, covering everything in white. When the powdery flakes turned to driving hail someone shouted, “Well, we are having a hail of a good time with Fences for Fido!” We laughed and kept working.

Soon, the fence was complete and it was time for unchaining. The dogs raced around the yard, sniffing, rolling in the snow, and chasing tennis balls. They were joyous as they moved freely, burned off pent up energy and interacted with one another free of chains for the first time in their lives. The family members thanked us again and again.

I was hooked. I knew I had played a part in making lives better that day – both for dogs and their humans.

Fences For Fido started in 2009 in Portland, when a small group of volunteers decided to do something to help a neighborhood dog in a desperate chained situation. Since then FFF has freed over 1,150 dogs and spread into southwest Washington and central and coastal Oregon.

Martha Nordbusch of Prineville and La Donna Sullivan of Bend founded the Central Oregon FFF crew. Both women have day jobs, sometimes more than one, and full and busy lives, and yet they devote significant time and talent to the Fences For Fido cause. La Donna explained why:

Because I believe dogs should have a yard, a safe place to run and play. I do it because I want the dogs to be able to stay with their families and dogs on the end of a chain are fearful sometimes causing them to get aggressive and jump up and make it hard for people to get really close to them. When a dog has more freedom it can better learn how to interact and be more part of the family. This way they receive the love they crave and the family gets to more fully experience the love from their dog.

The second build I volunteered for was even more gratifying. The crew met at a modest mobile home in Warm Springs. Two pitbull-type dogs and one chow mix were staked to posts by heavy, thick chains. All three were friendly, though the young black and white male was very shy. The red, shaggy-furred chow mix was overjoyed by our attention but could only move a few feet in any direction because his chain was twisted and knotted.

Over several hours we completed three contiguous fences, one for each dog. Within moments of being unchained the timid young dog was more confident and animated, approaching us through the fence for a sniff and a treat. When we released the big red dog, for the first minute or so, he moved like a gaited horse, lifting his front legs high into the air, in an exaggerated prance, as he adjusted to being free from the terrible weight of the chain he had dragged for years. Once his stride normalized, he settled into his new digs and tore around tossing his new rope toy high into the air. His joyous transformation brought tears to my eyes.

As co-founder, Martha Nordbusch explained, the benefits go far beyond the dogs and owners:

What we have found is that freeing a dog from a chain creates a ripple of positivism that expands well beyond that one dog. We received a letter from a member of the community who put it this way, ‘Those two dogs have been chained for a long time and have been breaking my heart every day. Their eyes seemed to be begging for my help. This afternoon we drove by and both dogs had new fences and they were both running and jumping around!! This makes me so happy!!!!! My eyes have been crying ever since because I am just so happy to see those dogs free from their chains. Thank you so much for helping our neighbor dogs. You have helped me too because my heart won’t have to break every day when I drive by those dogs.’

Central Oregon Fences For Fido recently celebrated their 100th build, and the release from chains of over 250 dogs.  As awareness of the organization grows so does demand for services. This presents a great opportunity but also a tremendous challenge gathering the woman/man power to make it happen.

If you’d like to help please sign up for a fence build. You do not need to be a skilled construction worker to fill an important niche. Each build requires simple tasks such as clipping wire fencing, twisting fasteners, loading and unloading supplies. Tools and gloves are provided.

And even if you are absolutely not the fence-building type, you can still fill an important role. Some of the most-needed volunteer jobs include:

Veterinary transport for spay/neuter and other health needs,

  • Community outreach, marketing and tabling at events,
  • Dog house delivery and/or assembly,
  • Making a financial donation.

Also, Fences For Fido asks you to let us know where help may be needed. If you see a dog living on a chain all you need do is visit the FFF website or call in and provide the address. A volunteer will confidentially and respectfully check to see if help can be provided.

We may never get to all the dogs that need help but the lives of each one we touch improves beyond measure. I have seen this in the dogs loosed from chains and the grateful families who loved them but were unable, without a little help, to provide the best for them. I have felt it in myself — each time the chain comes off and the dog’s world expands I am flooded with the warm feeling of giving, of making a life-transforming difference, for someone who needed a little help.

One fence. One family. One dog at a time.

For more information:

http://www.fencesforfido.org

503.621.9225 or 503.314.7105

info@fencesforfido.org

Building Trust in the Great Wallowas

For this issue of Issue I was going to cover the militia take-over and stand off at the Malheur Wildlife Refuge. However after talking to some of the traumatized and frustrated locals there I decided I didn’t want to be part of the media feeding frenzy that was playing right into the occupiers’ hands. So, instead of southeast Oregon, I headed to the far northeast to check on developments in the magnificent Wallowa Mountains.

The Wallowas are truly one of the Northwest’s most beautiful places. Rugged mountain peaks and the remote Eagle Cap wilderness surround a spectacular glacial lake.   The quaint little town of Joseph boasts a nationally acclaimed community of bronze sculptors and artists.

My main interest was the innovative work being done by the Wallowa Land Trust to establish a uniquely collaborative approach to protecting this magnificent landscape. In full disclosure, the Trust’s Executive Director, Kathleen Ackley, is a dear friend of mine.

The brazen takeover of public lands by the Malheur occupiers was just the latest in the ongoing controversy about public lands and whether or not private ranchers, logging and mining companies ought to be able to use those lands. With that backdrop playing out at the other end of the state I was interested in learning more about a different way of protecting important landscapes especially in regions containing a lot of public land.

In Wallowa County over 50 percent of the land base is owned by the federal or state government. During the logging boom of last century these lands generated jobs and revenues. But logging and mill jobs have been sharply curtailed due to environmental regulations and replacement of manual jobs with machination. This has taken a heavy economic toll on formerly timber-dependent communities in which vast tracts of public lands are excluded from the property tax base. One could reasonably expect the people of Wallowa County to have no interest in tying up any more land but something extraordinary is taking place in this remote community.

The Wallowa Land Trust is working to permanently protect one of the most unique and iconic landscapes in Oregon: the Moraines of Wallowa Lake.  A moraine is a mass of rock, soil and gravel carried down and deposited by glaciers.   The glacial moraines cradling Wallowa Lake are not only visually stunning, but also of great ecological and cultural significance.  They are among the most classic and complete examples of Pleistocene moraines found in North America, offering unparalleled education on glacial history and climate change.

For local residents the undeveloped crest of the East Moraine is the iconic visual image of present day Wallowa County and an underpinning of the vastly important economic engine of tourism. The entire permanent population of Wallowa County is just under 7,000 but as many as 700,000 tourists visit the region each year. The moraines also have special significance to the Nez Perce Tribe.  Located on the terminal moraine is Old Chief Joseph’s gravesite, part of the Nez Perce National Historical Park. This is the starting place for the Nez Perce (Nimiipuu) National Historic Trail. Finally, there are the non-human residents to consider. The Oregon Conservation Strategy ranks the moraine’s pine woodlands as one of 11 highest priority wildlife habitats in the state.

When faced with the breathtaking vistas surrounding Wallowa Lake, most visitors and many locals assume that Wallowa Lake and the moraines are protected.  However, despite being adjacent to protected areas including Wallowa Lake State Park, the moraines themselves are almost entirely privately owned.

In 2011, one of those landowners voiced their desire to sell or develop their 1,790-acre property which encompasses almost 60% of the East Moraine. As many as 26 homes could be built on the moraine, including three on the iconic crest above the lake.

Due to concern about the future of the East Moraine, the Wallowa Lake Moraines Partnership was formed in 2011 and includes Wallowa Land Trust, Wallowa Resources, Wallowa County, Oregon Parks and Recreation Department and The Trust for Public Land. Wallowa Land Trust plays a lead role in the Partnership.

From a conservation perspective, a land trust is typically a non-profit entity that works with private landowners to protect conservation values on private land. The landowner voluntarily commits to permanently limiting the uses of their land (such as agreeing not to build a housing development) for the benefit of the environment, the community and future generations.  Sometimes the landowner donates those rights. Other times the landowner sells those rights to the land trust. The land trust assumes responsibility of ensuring that the agreed upon restrictions are upheld. The landowner continues to own the land and there are often tax benefits from transferring land to a trust agreement. The landowner can even pass the land on to heirs or sell it. However, the conservation agreements stay in place even if the land changes ownership.

The Moraines Partnership is now in conversation with all nine East Moraine landowners, all of whom have expressed interest and desire to work to protect this landscape.  Owner Jacob Hasslacher has put 40 of his 100 acres into a conservation agreement. He says, “The moraine is a sacred place to me and I’m fortunate to have property on it. I wanted it to remain open and undeveloped in perpetuity. I thought it was a good thing to do for the community and wildlife.”

Remarkably, in addition to placing private land into conservation agreements most Wallowa residents also support putting another chunk of East Moraine land under governmental ownership!  The Partnership has been awarded a $3 million grant from the USDA Forest Legacy program to acquire a portion of the largest East Moraine parcel.  However, the grant requires that the land pass to a state or local governmental entity.  Wallowa County has agreed to take ownership, with management of the land falling to Wallowa Resources.  As Ackley explains, “Generally speaking, more land in government ownership is frowned upon here in Wallowa County.  But this is a unique project in that not only is it going to keep one of the state’s most spectacular landscapes undeveloped, it is going to create a community forest that generates revenue for the county, supports local jobs and protects sensitive habitat.  It’s a win-win for our community, both ecologically and economically.”

This collaborative, community-based approach to conservation is remarkable in providing a way for landowners to exercise their property rights and maintain local ownership in a way that benefits the community and protects one of the Pacific Northwest’s natural treasures.