Joanna Macy: in deep time, and deep thanks

Honoring Joanna Macy. Finding Meaning Beyond the Social Media Noise

A few months back we engaged a lovely social media consultant hoping to make peace with our mixed feelings - call it what it is, angst- around our ‘presence’ in the online world. On the one hand we love the madly talented creators, makers, gardeners, farmers, musicians we have ‘discovered’ all over the world through social media. There are hopeful and truly exciting things happening in unexpected places. And we certainly appreciate social forums that enable us to tout our food and drink programs, crow about our beautiful weddings, host collaborative events that foster connection. But we’re conflicted (and it seems, we’re all being told, addicted?) that an insatiable search for stories, beauty, delight, has devolved into empathy killer thrills. The tsunami of truly dreadful things happening in the world that SM bombardes us with non-stop is increasingly challenging the way we feel about social media.

With few exceptions almost everything coming into our feeds uninvited seemingly to offer a’connected life’ of ‘upgraded pleasures’ is little more than a sales pitch. The notion we can scroll for pleasure or discovery when every click to ‘engage’ has this imperative at its core makes it near impossible to ‘engage’ online in a meaningful way.

That line between ‘want to share’ and ‘need to share’ has always been a hard one for us - hence the need for a SM guru. Alongside using instagram and the blog to reach an audience who might want to come drink or dine or celebrate a precious moment in their lives with us - we are a business after all - we’d also like to use social media to communicate in a genuine way to tell the challenging, yet hopeful things that drive our days in Healdsburg and farm life on the ridge in Philo.

When I read that that a beloved mentor, Joanna Macy, had gone into hospice at home and would soon be leaving the world, I posted the images you see above. They are part of a series I’ve been playing around with thinking about “The Sacred Ordinary,” a Macy canon with many threads that ran through Joanna’s life fueled by her “wild love of the world.” Her “feel how your breathing makes more space around you” is one of the best mantras you’ll ever use to crack open the door to seeing the world whole - breathing into it - ‘living the questions’ as Rilke originally framed it, bathed in each moment. “Those of us who are alive now and feel called to love our world, to be grateful for it,” Joanna wrote, “to teach ourselves how to see beauty, how to treasure it, how to celebrate, how if it must disappear, if there’s dying, how to be grateful,” has by now flowered in so many cultlivated gardens, and as wild grass in so many fields.

Not surprisingly, there was little ‘engagement’ with the reel and I was more than fine with that - a numbers game cannot be our expectation if we wish to control our own narrative, revel in its uniqueness, celebrate nuance, peek into what makes our endeavors - that would include barndiva - meaningful. We posted those few images simply to acknowledge her life and imminent passing - she died July 19th - not to drive traffic. To speak to her last journey on earth with the hope of stirring curiosity in her life’s work. To offer, as we do here in our small way, connections that are helping us navigate the world we wish to build together. This would have delighted her.

Joanna Macy was many things: a Buddist scholar, a gimlet eyed environmental activist, a lifelong teacher who created interactive workshops through the foundation she helped build around “The Work that Reconnects.” She helped millions embrace the grief and fear we are exeriencing in the face of environmental and climate catastrophe with a belief that this struggle is endemic to life, and, crucially, that it can and should be born and worn with honor. Of all her many accomplishments, her inspired translations of the poetry and writings of Ranier Maria Rilke - both Book of Hours and Letter to a Young Poet with her lifelong friend Anita Barrows has changed so many lives, including my own, for the better.

Like Mary Oliver, Joanna Macy had the gift of infusing the pathos of language with the vibrancy of hope, born from a deep respect for the natural world. Give a listen to any one of the several conversations she had with the incomprable Krista Tippett in On Being, or Joanna and Anita reciting Rilke poems on Emergence Magazine Podcast. Prepare to be amazed, inspired, soothed.

Eulogies will keep coming for her but I doubt any will touch me as profoundly as Rebecca Solnits “In Honor of Joanna Macy, 1929-2025, which she published in her fierce and essential Ghost hosted newsletter “Meditations in an Emergency.” Solnit was wandering the great forests of British Columbia when she heard the news about Joanna’s death; she opens this prescient, beautiful essay with a description of Nurse Logs, the fallen decaying logs ‘the trees from which trees are grown.” As it happened, Solnit’s piece arrived in my inbox after days of wandering through the broken forests that surround the farm - a practice I have for over 40 years as a way of trying to come to terms with their wounded grandeur, parse what role they are supposed to play in my life. Our commitment to manage our heritage orchards has always been a clear directive to honor the legacy of care which preceded us; our floral program is inspired by sheer passion alongside a desire to curate an experience at barndiva with beauty at it’s core. But the trees in the forest on our upper ridge have always presented a conundrum. Like most of the forests in Anderson Valley- in Northern California - they have been relentlessly harvested for profit for over a century, yet here they still are, haunted yet tenacious. Solnit’s soilquoty on nurse logs provided a fresh way of seeing them.

In the piece Solnit quotes Macy : “It is good to realize that falling apart is not such a bad thing. Indeed, it is as essential to transformation as the cracking of outgrown shells. Anxieties and doubts can be healthy and creative, not only for the person, but for the society, because they permit new and original approaches to reality.”

Our social media consultant didn’t berate us for our Macy post, though it no doubt confirmed the weakness in our very laid back social media presence that is certainly not helping us ‘grow’ the business, which is what she was engaged to help us do. Her advice, when it eventually came, was not a surprise: “ Incredible content! 20 years hosting extrarodinary weddings in the center of Healdsburg, a restaurant ride that has included numerous wine and food awards, a Michelin star, real community engagement …all the pieces are here!” before concluding, “sporatic posting, not enough ‘call to actions,’ not enough visual ‘consistency.” She gave us some tools, but at the heart of her advice was the Social Media mantra you can’t escape: post all the time if you seek any traction, any commerce, any significant engagement.”

Maybe. We did come up with the three ‘frames’ you see above in which to clarify future content so folks can see at first glance which hat we’re wearing at any given moment - the better to make a decision to come to dine, or book a wedding, join a community forum, or check out what we are growing and harvesting in Philo.

Perhaps, to make the most of them, social media platforms can be viewed as compost staging areas, where- if we choose wisely- organic matter will break down into the nutrients from which we can grow original approaches to what ails us, what tempts us, what in the end allows us to land on an evolving definition of what it really means to truly engage.

Mapping a Great New Year's Eve

Tory & The Teasers

I recently learned the term Eudaimonia - the feeling of deep contentment thought by history’s most profound thinkers as the reward one receives for living a virtuous life. Confucius, Lao Tzu, Zarathustra, Archimedes, the Hebrew prophets, Homer and Plato all circled around ideas of what human flourishing might look like, and the values it might espouse, around the time of the last Axial age, two millennia ago. It was a pivotal time for civilization when most of the great intellectual, philosophical and religious systems were born and have shaped history every since. The times we live in now, understandably being called a new Axial age for the massive upheaval we’re experiencing in the natural and technological worlds, would seem to warrant a deep dive in search of new rules for living ‘good’ lives, instead of merely enjoyable ones we have to constantly feed to keep going, usually at the expense of the planet. It’s an especially good conversation to have at this time of year as our desire to celebrate the Holidays ramps up. I’m not suggesting we be racked by guilt for the time and money we spend trying to have fun when we could be improving our character. Life is short, on that I hope we can all agree. Serious fun, the kind that feels joyous, not half baked, should always be on the menu.

But in planning NYE celebrations, knowing well the expectations around it, every year I come to the question of what makes for a great New Year’s Eve versus the ones (we’ve all had) when our parting thought is “phew, glad that’s over.” But what if we consider the ultimate litmus test not one of value for money so much as value for joy? The night is a distillation of the year we’ve just lived, and whether we say goodbye to it with relief, umbrage or pride, most of us feel the need for it to be memorable before we turn the page. Bonus points if optimism for the year ahead is somewhere on the menu.

The last meal of the year at Barndiva has always delivered delicious notes and I’m pretty confident the ambiance here easily tops anything else around. But even in the years when the NYE menu has been sublime (and this year’s menu from Danny and Randy looks to be one of those), if we’ve learned anything it’s that the evening’s success does not rise or fall on what comes out of the kitchen or sails off to tables from the bar, but, ultimately, from what blows in the front door with you, dear guest. With respect, what I’m saying is that wherever you decide to spend New Year’s Eve, making it a wonderful evening will ultimately rest with your mood, attitude, resolve. After 16 years hosting New Year’s Eve at the Barn, and a lot more experiencing them as a guest, I believe the secret is to grant yourself permission to be fully present, at ease with the world, and available for other people. This particular NYE is the end of a very tumultuous decade. Acknowledgment that we are all in this together, that the only way forward is together, that we’ve got to make this work together, has got to be the fulcrum going forward. On New Year’s Eve you will be in a room full of people who, for this one night at least, have the same agenda as you - the desire to have a really good time.

For our part we promise to beautifully set the stage and pull out all the stops. Eudaimonia doesn’t have to wait til morning, let kindness and goodwill abound. But making it resolution #1 ain’t such a bad idea, either.

Here is the dinner menu in full, with Chappy’s extraordinary wine pairings. We will, of course, have a wonderful vegetarian menu - you need only let us know you are requesting one when you make your reservation. Special cocktails, check. Balloons and noise makers and rooms filled with flowers and candles, check. Tory and the Teasers, a great band fronted by an electrifying singer, will begin at 11:30. Whatever ails you, a few turns on the dance floor where no one cares how well you dance has rejuvenating power. We’d be honored if you choose to join us.

Tory and the Teasers were with us for the first time last year and they killed it. Consummate musicians driven by Tory’s irrepressible spirit and infectious kick down drive: This is a great dance band. There may be some tickets at the door before their set depending on how many of our diners stay with us or return from an earlier seating. Next week Chappy will talk more about the extraordinary pairing, and we’ll check in with the bar. A special five course menu ($95) will only be available until 7:30.

The lightest (in weight and spirit) gift of the season - cocktails, wine dinners, lunch can be enjoyed all year. You will make someone very happy with this one. Purchase here.

Footnote: The quotes “if everything is a variable, what are the constants” and “Grant yourself permission to be fully present, at ease with the world, and available for other people.” were both written by Jonathan Rowson the eminent Scottish Chess Grandmaster and applied philosopher.

Kick-ass Divas in the Land of Nod

To CBD or not to CBD - it’s an increasingly popular topic of conversation these days. Most of us have come to believe in the efficacy of the cream for aching backs, but the jury is out on whether it can cure a whole range of afflictions from epilepsy to anxiety. The healing attributes of so many herbs and tinctures seems to ride a thin line between knowledge and faith; then again both are pretty potent integers, whether you are contemplating a cocktail or coping with daily life.

What I can offer definitively is that our two new summer drinks are trippy, for all the right ‘restorative’ reasons. Flower Child uses vodka made from a distillation of hemp seed from Humboldt Distillery, where they know a thing or two about Cannabis Sativa L. There is nothing psychotropic in the spirit, which is earthy on the nose, slightly resinous on the palate. Chappy, our wine director, who also takes great interest in our cocktail program, said from the get-go that a martini was the only way to go with the distinctive flavor of “Humboldt’s Finest,” but our bartenders, notably Terra, disagreed. By adding a hint of tarragon infused Noilly Prat vermouth, a skosh of peach bitters, muddling cucumber coins in fresh lime juice and an exuberant shake, she came forth with a truly surprising cocktail. While we may not be entering a summer of love in this country, all the more reason a little liquid joy in the glass is not amiss - which Terra has supplied in this cocktail. It’s intriguing, it’s new, and its pretty pansy and cornflower garnish comes from right here in the gardens.

I am on record for initially turning my nose up when I heard the ingredients in our other new cocktail - I honestly thought there was no way it could work. Not only does it work, it’s one of my favorite concoctions. The artful way Alessandra has combined seemingly refractory flavors is secondary to the fact it is simply delicious, without being simple. The drink starts with a St George Chili Vodka, to which she added liquefied corn (aka corn water, puréed and strained) and Falernum, an Orgeat-like liqueur from the Caribbean with hints of ginger, lime and almonds. Lost you yet? It’s also got a Mezcal spray which lightly coats the glass before the liquid is poured, and a stellar Piment d’Ville salt rim. The Piment d’ Espelette we are using is grown and refined in Boonville by Johnny Schmidt, a friend for over forty years. You can purchase it at The Boonville Hotel in Anderson Valley or cage it online. This is a product that’s good for just about anything that ails you, and, as Alessandra proves, it makes the perfect rimmer.

Not from Kansas Anymore would have been a cool name for the drink - the creaminess of the corn water is key to the drink’s elevation of the Falernum- but that was too easy- Alessandra’s ingenuity demanded more. Then something the brilliant theoretical physicist Lisa Randall said in an interview with Krista Tippett in the always wonderful podcast On Being struck me: “we can go beyond our prejudices about things that seem obviously wrong…as they may just be obviously wrong to us.” In her new book Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs, Randall writes about what she believes is the astounding interconnectedness of the cosmos’ history and our own, fascinating, but the take away she sparked in me with this interview was that there are profound connections to be made all the time, whether we are setting about unraveling the mysteries of the universe’s hidden dimensions or just getting on with our daily lives. “The most interesting kind of creativity is constrained creativity, where you have some rules. There’s certain formulas that you have to stick to, at some level, but within that framework, can you make it interesting? Can you see how things fit together in more complex and surprising ways?” The journey I made from an initial flat reading of the ingredients in Alessandra’s drink to what she actually created was a lesson in constrained creativity, and for staying open, not letting assumptions impede passage to something interesting, revelatory, joyful. Warped Passage, the name of Alessandra’s drink, was borrowed from an earlier Lisa Randall book. Read her.

We are proud to have four distinct divas guiding our bar programs (yes, we are looking at you too, Andrew). Come in and meet them. Not dining? No problem, it’s a big bar, with a lovely garden. We will help you confound gravity.