Community: Grieving -- and Celebrating
Esalen President Gordon Wheeler's Blog
August, 2011
What is "community?" Is it a noun, or a verb (or even an adverb, not what you do but how you do it)? Why is real community so rare in today's world; where can we still find it? and then what's the cost to us if we don't find it -- in creativity, generosity, and kindness in our society and in our world at large?
Here at Esalen, community is something we live and practice every day, good times and hard times, year in and year out. And by "practice," I mean in both senses of that double-edged word: both something you make a commitment to, with intention and some consistency; and also something you keep doing because you're far from perfect at it, and you want to get better. A practice in that sense is both a commitment and an aspiration, both for its own sake and for all the benefits it can bring.
And then as with so many important things in life, the depth and quality of that commitment, the consistency we bring to showing up again and again with our full hearts, minds, and embodied spirit, will determine how much we then get out of it, together. We learn how to "do community" by doing it, well and ill, creatively and also falling back into old ruts and "me-first" reflexes, again and again, over time. And then as with any practice, some people show up with more heart, more commitment over time than others (who are then gifted with the opportunity to learn from their example).
Here at Esalen this past week we lost a treasured champion of "community practice," our beloved Montgomery London, who collapsed and died suddenly at home on a Sunday morning, up in "Yurtville" on the Esalen campus, at the much-too-young age of 64. Her much-adored husband and partner Josef was by her side, and there he stayed through that last long morning and afternoon together, as fellow community members gathered and slowly came through, in shock, tears, words of love, silence - and some laughter as well, -- saying not a last but a first goodbye.
Montgomery gave her heart to this community - literally, in every way. Under treatment herself for a tricky heart condition for some years, she never slowed down in her commitment to Esalen and the wider Big Sur community as well, serving for years as a firefighter, an engine Captain and a cliff rescue Captain on the Big Sur Volunteer Fire Brigade - in an area where help from town is always at least an hour or more away, and the Fire Brigade serves as First Responders to everything from heart attacks to wilderness rescues, from forest fires to highway tragedies. Just the day before she died she was out on a rescue call, as she might be at any hour of the day or night, brushing off concerns about her own health or safety. "I want to go out in a 'massive,'" Josef quoted her as saying - meaning she didn't want a life of lingering ill health, with limitations she would have found unbearable. In that sense she got her wish - only far too soon. Massive is the size of the hole she leaves in our hearts, and in this community.
Countless Esalen teachers and seminarians knew Montgomery as well, as all of us are finding out as the shock and sad news spread out beyond Big Sur. They know Josef and Montgomery both, from their constant protective presence at virtually every Esalen event, nearly every function and celebration, every conference and gathering over the past two decades and more. Most often they were among the first to arrive and the last to leave - which was never before cleanup and final safety checking were done.
Montgomery was our safety Czar at Esalen, both by official role and also by passion and vocation. Talk about the right woman for the job - whether it was bad lighting, trippable steps, first responding, first aid cabinet supplies, from fire safety to hazardous waste, emergency radios to backup batteries to defibrillator check, she was on it with her clipboard and her to-be-done-right-now list. And woe to the manager who then didn't get it done and right back to her, with documentation and signoff.
When the Basin Complex fires closed Esalen for weeks in 2008, burning off a quarter million acres up above us, coming down onto the campus itself and destroying our waterline, a group of some 50 of us refused the mandatory evacuation order and stayed on here for the duration, to prep the property and fight the fire directly - or else (as in my case) to support those who were. There were more who volunteered to stay as well, to serve in any way they could to protect this sacred space we all so love - but we had to say no to a number of them because of some health, heart, immune or respiratory issue that could pose a potential injury to themselves and a risk to a rescue team, in case they had an emergency. The only exceptions to this firm rule were Montgomery, and me. Me, just because I couldn't ask our frontline and backup team to take any risks I wouldn't stay and take myself -- but still I held back from joining that frontline team, and stayed clear indoors and quiet when the smoke and particles were heavy. Not Montgomery. Somehow in Montgomery's case -- for all her health and heart history, - that question of permission and health simply never came up. She just stayed, to co-captain our crew and manage our fire brigade liaison (and through the Big Sur Brigade, our communication lines with the federalized firefighters, who eventually numbered some 2500, with their deployment shifting with the winds and fire movement from hour to hour). And far from holding back from smoke and stress, she was out checking those brush-cutting teams for safety and cruising the highway for information and backup, all day and into the night. In reality, as a Fire Brigade Captain she was the only one allowed off the property, the rest of us having been advised by the long-suffering Sheriff's department that we were all committing a felony in the first place by refusing the "mandatory evac" order, and if we set foot out on the road, we'd be escorted out of the area at best, arrested at worst).
Montgomery never stopped during those critical weeks. Indeed, she was in her element - everywhere were safety concerns to be addressed, everywhere more opportunies for her to serve. Often she served in another way at the same time: since her official truck could get through, she helped with the delivery of all the excess produce from the Esalen farm and garden through those weeks, handing it off at the border to pickups from the free shelters and meal stations set up outside the federalized boundary.
Big Sur has long been outlaw country, a land of fierce individualists who flip into fierce community protectors when disaster strikes. The rest of the time, laws and safety and compliance were for outsiders and flatlanders, perceived not as protection but as infringement. But Mongomery never saw any conflict between safety and freedom, community heart and legal compliance, doing things in a businesslike way and still respecting each person's space (which didn't exclude chewing them out for not shaping up!). Her job was to keep us all safe - first for our guests' sakes and our own sakes, all over the property and on the job -- and then secondarily also because accidents are terribly expensive, to the victim, to Esalen in claims, and to our workman's comp and other insurance premiums. She simply saw no difference between these aims: every accident she could help prevent, working with tools or just walking around this rugged environment, is not only pain and suffering avoided, but also that much more money Esalen can devote to programs and service for our seminarians, to staff support in every form, and to our many, many pro bono and subsidized internships, sustainability programs, pioneering preschool, and other non-revenue initiatives.
"Community is my workshop," Montgomery aways said, and then made those words true by living them, every day. At the largest level, we know that "community" is the workshop the world is struggling with today, torn between the "me first" voices of tribalism and violence and fear, and that creativity, generosity, and mutual care-taking commitment that only true community can ground and provide. We can think globally - but most often our inspiration comes to us locally, in personal, embodied form. Montgomery lived that inspiration for all of us. Now that she has left her bodily form, it's up to us to embody her spirit with her and for her, caring for each other and our guests and Esalen as she did - and through our students and programs and initiatives, caring for the wider world as well. Especially we dedicate ourselves to loving Josef even more - knowing that we can never make up for what they had, and still have, together. When we show up - really show up - for each other, ourselves, the world, we're doing it for Montgomery as well. Which means doing it a little more, a little better, a little more whole-heartedly than we did before. As with each unique spirit who blesses us on her and our way, she cannot be "replaced." We may see her equal, if we dedicate ourselves enough and are especially blessed; but we know we won't see her like, again.
In sadness, gratefulness, mourning and celebration --
Gordon Wheeler, Big Sur, August 2011