I am part of the rainforest protecting myself. I am that part of the
rainforest recently emerged into thinking.
John Seed
Recently while visiting Vermont, one of my friends there suggested that
I meet Marion Leonard, a 98 year-old environmental activist living in
Rochester. While I had no doubt that my friend’s effusive praise of
Marion was valid, I had to meet Marion for myself to appreciate what a
phenomenal soul she really is.
Marion was born in 1909 and grew up on Long Island as the daughter of a
physician. She attended Pembroke College which later became Brown
University and there met her husband, Warren. She and Warren first
visited Vermont in 1932, and they both fell in love with the state. He
was a teacher—a profession highly in demand during the Great
Depression, but Marion did not become a teacher; instead, she became a
librarian at the Putney School. Throughout the 1930s and 40s, she and
her husband worked in various schools throughout Vermont and then spent
eight years living in Rome. In the eighties Marion and Warren lived
back on Long Island in Sag Harbor where she worked ardently as an
environmental activist with friends there who founded “Save The World”,
an anti-nuclear power movement. Later they returned to Vermont and
settled in Rochester where they were very drawn to a shared housing
facility for the elderly where Marion still lives subsequent to her
husband’s passing in 2005. When I asked Marion how she became an
activist she told me that her father modeled for her his connection
with the earth, even though he didn’t speak about it in those terms. He
told his children that heaven is here, not somewhere else, and that
their duty was to make the earth the paradise it was meant to be. In
those days, people did not speak of “environmental activism” because at
that point, the planet was not yet in crisis as it is today.
Nevertheless, Marion grew up with and retained a lifelong emotional and
spiritual connection with the earth that some members of younger
generations have only recently developed as a result of educating
themselves about the crisis.
Marion repeatedly states, “We’re part of the earth,” and I asked her to
explain to me what that means to her. “What I mean,” she responded, “is
that we are the earth thinking about itself. We are the global brain,
as Peter Russell names it—the only species that we know of that can
think about its own situation.” If we are aware of that concept, she
believes, then we are more likely to make the right choices that will
benefit ourselves and the earth.
Marion attributes her understanding of this concept to her dialogs with
Dominican sister, Miriam McGillis, when Marion had just turned 80. She
says she was profoundly influenced by McGillis’s perspective which made
more sense to her than anything she had ever heard.
Marion repeatedly uses the phrase “the Great Work”, and I asked her
what she meant by it. It is a phrase used by McGillis but also by the
historian, author, and geologian, Thomas Berry who authored the book
The Great Work. Although she had been a librarian for many years, she
had never heard of Berry or his books, but in recent years, Marion has
met Berry, whom she affectionately calls “Tom” and emphasizes that he’s
five years younger than she is.
For Marion, “the Great Work” is one’s understanding that one is the
global brain and that all beings of the earth—animal, plant, mineral,
and the elements of earth—are part of the earth family or community. It
also means for Marion an understanding that nature never gives up and
that the “blessed unrest” to which Paul Hawken repeatedly refers and
which is also the title of one of his books, refuses to be crushed. The
Great Work means understanding that we are not separate from, but are
part of, the earth community and that nothing is more important than
cherishing, protecting, and preserving it. In other words, we are the
earth—not some disconnected entity-- endeavoring to sustain itself.
One of the most important aspects of the Great Work, according to
Marion, is local action. She’s very concerned
about the effects of global warming on her own community in Central
Vermont through which the White River flows. She’s thrilled with the
proliferation of small farms and local farmers markets in the state; in
fact, she says there are too many for her to keep track up of. Right
now, she’s working with other residents in her living community and
with other citizens in the Rochester area, to plant and maintain a
four-season garden. She frequently attends meetings for environmental
causes outside of Rochester and has been active in the Northeast
Organic Farmers Association (NOFA) for a number of years.
When I asked Marion to tell me about the most rewarding aspect of her
efforts she said that it has to be watching young people awaken to the
Great Work. She knows she’s made a difference in many lives but never
expected to live as long as she has or have the influence she’s had.
When meeting Marion I was taken aback with her altertness, mental
acuity, and vitality. She wore no glasses or hearing aids and never had
to ask me to repeat myself. She apologizes for her occasional rambling,
but more often than not, I found it relevant, on some level, to our
conversation. Marion is nothing less than radiant with joy, her remarks
punctuated with lighthearted laughter. She takes a walk every day to
the Rochester post office to pick up her mail, and she remains as
physically and mentally active as possible.
When I asked her to what she attributes her excellent physical and
mental state, she replied that much of it has to do with the nutritious
foods she eats. She also acknowledges that to some extent she’s led a
modest, privileged life, having been able to avoid some of the
hardships others have been forced to endure. But Marion also attributes
her good health to the Great Work to which she has devoted so many
decades of her life, and she is a testament to the reality that poor
mental and physical health among the elderly is often related to
depression, purposelessness, and inactivity. From her perspective, none
of this is necessary if an aging individual can remain committed to a
cause and invest his/her energy in struggling on behalf of it.
When one enters Marion’s room it’s impossible to miss her refrigerator,
covered with activist bumper stickers and her two file drawers labeled
“Earth” and “Vermont.” They leave no doubt that she will lovingly and
enthusiastically attend to her passion for the earth and her beloved
Green Mountain State until her last breath.
I remain in regular contact with Marion by phone, and she’s reminded me
several times that she’ll be 99 on May 24. I don’t know if I’ll be able
to attend her party, but I savor every moment of our conversations and
will be forever grateful for what she has taught me and so many others
about the Great Work.