“Five Things Friday” Interview with Author Jnana Hodson!

It’s another “Five Things Friday” interview! This time I sat down to chat (well, if “chatting” involved exchanging emails) with author, journalist, and poet (and Quaker!) Jnana Hodson.

Willow Croft: Based on your blog(s) and author profile(s), you have both past and present ties to the “hippie” counter-culture, and the Quaker religion. How would you determine the place and/or the need for a like counter-culture and/or spirituality in today’s world? What societal trends would you identify that point to a need for such social, metaphysical, and character-based “sea change” in light of the recent/current events?

Jnana Hodson: Freeing ourselves mentally from advertising-driven consumerism would be a huge start. Just how much is enough for you to be happy and healthy? Or secure? Sometimes less really is more. Our unease is really a disease that sits atop fear.

The environmental crisis, especially, has been compounded by widespread denial. For one thing, it’s technically “climatic instability” rather than “global warming,” something the Texas deep-freeze demonstrates while exposing the real costs of high-level greed and hypocrisy. Closer to home, many of those monster pickup trucks we see are macho insecurity, no? A Prius or Tesla or bicycle becomes a defiant corrective act, as does an electric lawnmower rather than a conventional gas-powered cutter. Small steps can add up.

As my friend Steve Curwood contends, environmental actions are ethical, much more than economic. They can be lifestyle, too, as in choosing to live in a pedestrian-friendly neighborhood or raise an organic garden.

Racism, another big issue, has its roots in a desire to get ahead – quite simply, ahead of everyone else. You see it in the compulsion to move in a better neighborhood– one with better schools. Or on to a better job, better clothes, a better car, whatever. And for many of us, racism includes an unacknowledged assumption of Northern European superiority. It’s even embodied in the myth of the self-made man, to the exclusion of all who contributed to his rise. Or should we call it his attempted escape? Racism undermines the shared commonwealth – meaningful community – we need.

Fear also underpins the growing and costly militarization of America. It’s accompanied by soaring gun ownership, which becomes a matter of faith for many who have no intention of hunting, along with rising domestic violence.

You mention my Quaker practice, which I came to as a young adult, not knowing it had been the faith of my Hodson ancestors from the beginning of the movement in 1600s’ Britain. The Society of Friends, as it’s more formally known, avoids dogma and creed and instead emphasizes personal experience of what we sometimes call the Inward Light of the Divine. For Friends, this applies to every facet of everyday life and is embodied in simplicity, equality, peace, non-violence, and a community of kindred spirits. Not that we don’t have our shortcomings, but it does come down to an alternative Christianity of a radical sort.

One thing that it’s taught me is that individually, we’re pretty powerless. But put us together, and it’s like those bundles of bamboo, as the illustration goes. Nothing, apparently, can break them.

Willow Croft: I always try to include a food-based question, so how has old food pathways (via recipes and traditional/borrowed culinary practices) influenced your own eating habits? Do you uphold specific culinary traditions or has it evolved based on your current geographical location (e.g. your moves from the yoga ashram to the Pacific Northwest to coastal New England)?

Jnana Hodson: Oh, what a delicious question! I’ll warn you, though, I’m married to one of the world’s great cooks and she’s greatly expanded my awareness.

[There’s been quite a] revolution that’s occurred in American taste. When I turned vegetarian back in 1970, broccoli was exotic, and nobody could understand the concept of giving up meat. When I was growing up in the ’50s, most of my food came out of cans – even spaghetti! Chinese? It was chop-suey. I even remember my first pizza. As my dad would say, it was EYE-talian. I was maybe six or seven, and the aroma of oregano was exotic – I still recall that, all these years after raising our own herbs.

So vegetarianism opened me to new flavors, especially once I moved to the yoga ashram and lentils and dried beans were added to the mix. There I soon developed a knack for making bread each week. One Monday, I produced about 120 loaves, with a lot of kneading provided by my fellow yogis. Oh, yes, we were lacto-vegetarian and raised our own eggs. There’s a vast difference between those and what you find in the supermarket.

Region has definitely impacted my eating habits. Living in the Pacific Northwest introduced me to Dungeness crab and salmon as well as wild asparagus, which grew along the irrigation canals. I glutted out every May, knowing there would be no more fresh spears for another year.

Around then I came upon the Confucian ideal of no food out of season or place, which essentially points to freshness. The secret of great cooking across traditions, by the way, is the matter of respecting the ingredients, and that’s where freshness is crucial, as is knowing the difference between butter and margarine or the oils we apply. As my wife repeats, fat carries flavor. Just make sure it’s not rancid.

Regional influences include picking our own fruit in local orchards and obtaining unpasteurized apple cider, in season, as well as local cheeses. At one point, I lived near several large Amish communities in Ohio, where Swiss cheese was produced. In New Hampshire, a small country store a town away produces its own delightful cheddars and is well worth a visit. For several summers, we subscribed to a local sustainable fisheries delivery. Each week, we’d pick up a pound of what the local fishermen were harvesting rather than the common commercial varieties. Monkfish, anyone?

Gardening has had a huge impact, from asparagus to strawberries and buttery lettuces and early peas on to the range of real tomatoes – not those things you buy at the grocery. One year, we had fourteen varieties, each one distinctive. From the beginning of August till the first hard frost, I pretty much live on mayo-and-tomato sandwiches. Forget the bacon.

Joining in our Quaker Meeting’s once-a-month participation in Dover’s soup kitchen has also been eye-opening. Nobody serves soup these days, and for our turn, we do a chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw dinner, which seems to be very popular. Cooking for sixty or seventy is quite different than a home dinner, but we try. We’ll be happy when we’re back to table service rather than the Covid-induced takeout.

With the kids now gone, my wife and I are downsizing and moving on to a place where scallops and blueberries are major harvests. She’s already planning the garden, as well as autumn trips northward to Aroostook County for fresh potatoes, with skins that simply melt away in your mouth.

Willow Croft: As a former journalist, how do you feel about the state of journalism today, what with the digital news trends, the howls of “fake news” heard ‘round the world, and the role social media plays in the process of journalistic integrity (or lack thereof)?

Jnana Hodson: Former? Please make that “retired.” I might not be on the payroll these days, but it’s still in my blood – and my dreams, too, usually with frustrations of trying to make deadline or fit everything on a page or adjust to a new computer system. Besides, much of my blogging can be seen as small-scale journalism.

Widespread anonymity and the lack of face-to-face accountability in social media have so far eluded the legal redress of libel and slander laws. Often, avoiding basic civility, too. Reputations can be destroyed overnight, without penalties to the perpetrators. That has to change, and likely will with some big court cases.

On the other hand, the video on smartphones has lifted the cover on police brutality and other injustices. So we do have a mixed bag.

Journalism has been in a tailspin for some time, even before the Internet whammy. We’ve had a declining level of literacy – folks simply reading – on one side. In the newsroom we used to grumble about the “bean counters” who kept expecting more output at lower cost from fewer resources. One thing for certain – the watchdog function has been seriously wounded – with consequences that will prove costly to the public at all levels. Good reporting is hard work, and sharp editing is essential. It’s a fulltime job, not an amateur role, and often needs some strong backup when those in power seek retribution. 

For the right entrepreneur, there’s potential to create a revolutionary digital news vehicle, if enough subscribers can be convinced to pay what they now do for printed paper. It could be a hybrid of written and spoken, with no reliance on advertising. I have some thoughts, by the way, on how it might differ from the generic newspaper we too often encounter today. It could certainly give rise to some fresh ways of covering a community.

Willow Croft: As a poet myself, I am always intrigued about the sources of inspiration other poets draw upon to create their poetic works. With your own poetry, is the past and personal memories more of an influence, or is your current life experience(s) more of a muse?

Jnana Hodson: Very much the now, even when that has me looking back. It’s been a discipline for exploring what’s before me, often from quirky or playful perspectives, before I let go and move on.

The clearing of my mind through meditation has been a strong factor, allowing intuition to bubble up. Sometimes I’ll scribble a short note to myself during the silence of Quaker worship, something I’ll develop and explore later. Similar things happen while showering, walking, or even driving.

Much of my work was done as a reaction to the constraints of daily journalism – often on the fly, like graffiti I revised and distilled later.

Sometimes they stayed short, like a headline. Maybe I wasn’t getting as far away from the newspaper as I thought. Other times, though, they were thrown into a blender – there’s good reason I’ve been called a Mixmaster Supreme. 

What evolves is often something like a dream, which has one foot in the past and the other in the present, not that they’re always obvious.

Willow Croft: Some of your blog topics touch on economics. What sort of economic model, or revolution, is needed to help transform the dual worlds of employment and community (social structure)?

Jnana Hodson: The poets Donald Hall, Gary Snyder, and Wendell Berry are important influences here.

Hall sees work as an embodiment of passion or a meaningful engagement, even when it doesn’t reward you monetarily. Writing a poem is work, as we know. In contrast, a job is something you do to pay the bills, and chores are unpaid things you have to do as a matter of life.

Gary Snyder has what he calls the Real Work. He also titled an early collection Earth House Hold, noting the Greek meaning of “economy.” Shall we start with its environmental awareness?

And Berry looks closely at family life as well as agriculture and community.

As Hall says, we’re really blessed when our work and our jobs come together as one. Unfortunately, what I’m seeing is a widespread denigration of the work aspect of our daily employment, and many of the higher paid positions are way out of line with their greater value to society.

Public policy has put labor and its compensation under attack for the past fifty years. All of the productivity gains have gone into the pocket of the top five percent of the population – much of that going to the one percent. People who still have jobs have been working longer and harder for less than before. And the reality is that most of those touted “entry-level positions” are dead-end jobs with no upward mobility. I’m really miffed when the employers demand “reliable transportation” while offering minimum wage. It’s an unhealthy situation, leaving many people desperate. Wonder why Megabucks are so popular? Or illicit drugs?

Raising the minimum wage is a good step but hardly enough. Quite simply, drastic corrective income redistribution is necessary. Not that we’ve really been able to talk about that. Wages in general can’t go up as long as we’re competing with Third World labor – and that extends to those call centers overseas. Yet just think of the inhibiting, negative emotional whammy the label “socialist” invokes.

Meanwhile, high-tech is eliminating many employment fields – think of travel agents, local stockbrokers, professional photography and developers, or print shops, all already gone, along with the local video stores. I’m wondering how long most local retailers can hold out once we’re free of Covid.

When I look at young graduates entering the job market, I’m grateful I’ve made it to retirement. I have no idea what I’d do in their place or how they’re ever going to afford a place of their own.

Surprisingly, some right-wing economists are reluctantly coming around to admitting the necessity of a guaranteed minimum income for everyone. I would see that as including universal health care – as others have noted, pegging medical insurance to one’s employer greatly discourages entrepreneurs from stepping out on their own unless their spouse has independent coverage – and that becomes a damper on economic growth. The redistribution should also include higher education. Graduates today are saddled with impossible debt for skills their potential employers expect scot-free. And that’s before we get to non-competitor clauses.

I’m still believe in E.F. Schumacher’s “small is beautiful,” which was actually happening until cargo-container shipping from China, abetted by “free trade” deals in Washington, wracked the American economy. Bernie Sanders, drawing on labor union economists, nailed that one.

Respecting all honest work is important. Covid showed us how essential trash collectors and nursing home staff are in the big picture. As a cub reporter, I learned that secretaries and janitors often know far more about an operation than the suit in the corner office does. That hasn’t changed. I’ve long come to see a good carpenter or plumber as an artist. ‘Nuff said?

One big shift I’ll encourage turns away from accumulating more possessions – most of us have too much stuff anyway – and toward services and activities instead. That is, quality of life over quantity. Individually donating to local causes and volunteering run along those lines. In short, we can use our time and our money to enhance the place we and our neighbors inhabit.

I’m anticipating that when the Covid restrictions are lifted, we’ll burst out into renewed social connections. It feels like ages since I’ve been to a poetry reading, a contra dance, or a pub sing. How ’bout you?

If you’re keen to hear more from Jnana Hodgson, please follow his Jnana’s Red Barn blog at https://jnanahodson.net/ or check out his book(s) on Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/Jnana-Hodson/e/B088BWJ35Y) or on Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6916110.Jnana_Hodson).

The Wall*–An Essay by Willow Croft

*Read while listening to Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall”.

I was chatting with someone about a nonfiction book we are hoping to collaborate on, and we both have ADD so the conversation turned to social media (Okay, so I may have steered it a bit onto that topic).

But it has been on my mind lately, accentuated by an article/essay by Peter Derk I recently read, titled “Writers Don’t Need Social Media”: https://litreactor.com/columns/writers-dont-need-social-media.

I have been circling on this topic in my mind for a while now, and I finally got some clarity. “I want to have more control over my content,” I said. And the heavens opened and angels sang. (Well, not really, it was just another bland day in my rickety, stinky apartment.)

“I want to have more direct contact with people,” I continued. “Like through my blog.” And a bunch of other thoughts that sounded really good in my head.

And then I read Peter Derk’s post. And I picked up one of the books he recommended from the library: Ten Arguments for Deleting your Social Media Accounts Now by Jaron Lanier. (I read it last night.)

And yesterday I was on Twitter, and I saw this tweet flash past–something about about how people have finally hit the wall in the COVID situation. And I paused, and scrolled back up, but then Twitter refreshed and the tweet was gone forever. And then I got really frustrated. And then I got mad at myself for how ridiculously frustrated I was and how much time I spent looking for that gem of a post. And I realised that this happened way too often with Twitter, and with elusive tweets from the people I follow. I realised how much I was missing out on even during the small window of time I allotted to Twitter.

And I thought, “What is it that writers really want me to do? They want me to read their books.” (Or artists with their art, etc.)

And that it is a very simple discussion, without all the noise of Twitter and social media.

Fantastic Author #1: “Willow Croft, buy and read my book.”

Me: “Okay!”

And the only complicated part of that process is that I (according to the actual quoted State of New Mexico standards back when I was living in that state) am classified at 153% below the national/state poverty level, and I generally have no money to buy books.

And that’s with a day job, before I was furloughed. Who knows what my classification is at now, here in Kansas, with still no day job.

But I still began thinking about the “wall” people have hit.

And I read Luther M. Siler’s venting-themed blog over his latest experience with online teaching. https://infinitefreetime.com/2021/01/26/venting-ignore/

This is probably not related to his point(s), but for years now I have decried the standardized educational system. In fact, I have vehemently spoken out against the increasing standardization of most things in society these days.

In fact, one could look at the whole COVID situation and think “Jeez, ‘they’ have us right where they want us.” And, no, I am not espousing any sort of conspiracy theory or dark forces behind the pandemic–besides, I am too busy trying to find work to entertain any thoughts about that on even a writer-inspiration front.

Talk about standardization, though.

I have witnessed the job hunt go from paper applications you fill out in stores to digital employment kiosks you have to stand there and fill out to “fill out the application online”, which I now interpret to mean that an algorithmic software that “fires” you before you can even say “Here’s my one-page CV/Resume that I have spent eons on consulting with experts and tailoring to the job at hand and even picking the correct font and layout and which your system is telling you I’m complete garbage even though I have an INCREDIBLY vast array of skills, talent, and experience.”

And now even many job search sites, which I considered a refuge in which to submit an actual resume/CV now have links that send you to the employer’s website, where it takes an hour to complete one application (ten times as long as it took me to fill out a paper application in the old days) so they can then “fire” you algorithmically.

And now, at least one of these job sites has a feature now where I have to take a STANDARIZED test to “prove” that I’m good enough to work for this company. (And I’m not even getting reimbursed for my time and energy and work. Hours wasted.)

Which I never am (good enough). In fact, let’s look at it statistically (even with my mad skills I think I have), I have been applying for a job-any-job-liveable-wage-job since 1995. I have been back to school twice (a BA and a Masters) On average, I’ve applied online for about five to six jobs a day, seven days a week. I even, back in the 90s, went through the phone book and dropped off/mailed letters and resumes to a wide variety of companies (One interview, where I was offered 4 dollars an hour.)

Temp jobs, substitute teacher, an educational aide job, where I earned $600 a month, hell job teaching sixth grade (re Luther Siler’s rant: teachers get it from all sides: parents, students, supervisors, staff, and other teachers), and jobs where I was told I had to keep to a verbatim script or I’d face wage or hour-reduction penalties (Florida’s Right to Work state at…non-work), and interviews where the conservative business clothing I borrowed money to buy was deemed “not good enough to work in her office”.

And I still have no job.

So back to my discussion about the wall.

Yes, the COIVD shutdown has been terrible in many different ways; job loss, social isolation, separation from friends and family, and even the painful, heart-wrenching illness and deaths of loved ones. It’s been well covered by better writers than I, and I don’t mean to belittle what you are going through.

But what I want to say–what the whole point of my blog post is that it’s not just COVID that is creating a terrible situation for all of us.

It’s that we are now face to face with the awareness of how bad things have been all along. Of what society has become. Of what we have become, and accepted, in order to live in the world today. And we hate it, all of it, no matter what our personal, political, and/or religious and spiritual beliefs are.

We have ignored the price we had to pay with the planet, with the lives of animals and nature and unpolluted water and air, with the lives of children and their health and minds and their free, creative spirits; and even with our own physical and mental health.

That the systems we created suck.

That, for many, our jobs suck.

That, for many, our lives have sucked and we didn’t even realize it.

That even if we thought our lives were great on the surface there was still a small, disquieting voice that whispered at us in the wee hours of the night: “Wake up, something’s wrong.” And you get up and check the already-locked doors and the alarm system and that the kids are sleeping safe in their beds and the pets are fed and the refrigerator door is closed and nothing is out of place, so you go back to bed and wait for the light of day. To wait for things to change. To be different.

But it isn’t. Because the truth is the world, too, sucks and by our own hands.

And COVID is a brutal reminder that we are now having to pay the price.

But things don’t have to continue to suck. We can sacrifice, shake off the sleep of rote conformist jobs and standardized school systems and social media and binge-watching and hate and fear and misery and commercialism.

We can build a new world, or we can just sit here in our isolation and hope and pray for the day when things can to go back to the same-old same-old sucky system.

Which will you choose?*

*As long as it isn’t storming the U.S. Capitol. Just sayin’.