My father often told me growing up that we as people change enough over time that about every ten years, we are a new person. I can attest to the legitimacy of that. Interestingly, I believe I’m on the cusp of a new change right now. This change has the potential to be more self-aware than the ones of the past. Perhaps its a consequence of experience, having been there before I know what it looks like.
One of the most interesting, and unexpected parts of this new personal transformation is how parts of my old selves are bubbling up to the surface. The deep waters of my mind and the even deeper waters of my soul have been stirred up quite painfully over the past ten-or-so months (I’ve been navigating my second divorce). Things once lost to the depths have begun floating back to the surface. Values and issues and people that once upon a time mattered to me so much, have begun floating up toward the surface, demanding to be reexamined, reevaluated for a renewed standing in the hierarchy of action items.
Of the most importance to this publication is the issue of environmentalism. Its hard to believe that its been nineteen years since I first became acquainted with environmentalism as a thing in itself. I grew up rural, so for me the environment was always there, a thing taken for granted. I played outside until past dark. I swam in the lake in the summer. My parents took us camping and hiking on occasion in the mountains. We picked up after ourselves because it was the thing that decent people do, but I don’t recall ever talking much about the bigger picture of the quality of the environment, either on a local or global level.
The short story version of my relationship with environmentalism as thing in itself is that I, like many young people, was captured by the rhetoric of the immediacy and all-consuming importance of the issues. But I also, like many young people, lacked the skills to really do anything about such big issues, and in my impotence became vulnerable to the guilt and the shame that the social movement wielded so indiscriminately and irresponsibly. I had the wherewithal to cut ties with that movement and those values in order to protect myself, and I spent the next phase of my life focusing on tasks other than being a Green Crusader.
Fast forward to the present and this publication.
When I re-started The Mast Year in December 2022, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it, only that I wanted a place to publish essays on topics that interested me, and I wanted to set goals that would get me to write more consistently. It worked. I met my goals, resulting in the most productive and consistent phase of writing in the 20+ years that I have paid lip service to wanting to be a professional writer. Even more importantly, the act of sifting through my multitudinous ideas via actually bringing them to light has revealed a coherent path forward.
I want to honor my old values that have resurfaced and I want to make this publication a new voice for a revitalized perspective on environmentalism. This will not be a place for the guilt and the shame and the blaming people for destroying the planet through their greed and negligence. Nor will it be a place for the greenwashing of consumer goods to make their purchase more palatable.
Instead, this will be a place for stories, a place for good news, for inspiration and empowerment. I want to build a platform that champions the value of both the majestic, one-of-a-kind wonders of the natural world and the mundane green thing growing through the cracks of the concrete slab. I want to tell the stories of my own adventures getting to know the world and its people more fully, more intimately, and I want to tell the stories of the humans living with nature, as a part-of, not apart-from nature. I want to be a voice of a new environmentalism that seeks to remind people that they are alive because they are surrounded by life, that they are healthiest when the world around them is healthy.
It’s a young vision, not yet fully articulated. But its more than enough to get me moving.
Let this inaugurate the beginning of the journey of this vessel,
to be know as mast.year
the place of living words for a living world
Motivational speech concluded, let’s talk details.
As a reader, here are a few things you can expect from me moving forward:
On the last day of every month I will release that month’s edition of the Chronicler-Pilgrim’s Almanac. This will be a collection of short stories, poems, and what-have-you’s.
This sub-publication will fit into the genre of “naturalist” writing, but don’t be unpleasantly surprised when a story about humans and their creations finds its way in there. I am a big believer that neither we nor our creations are separate from nature and I intend to use mast.year as a platform to expand upon this notion.
The goal for the rest of this calendar year is to have a minimum of 3 entries per issue of the Almanac. I expect to consistently exceed this target. (July is looking like it will have at least 5.)
Each week I will be going on an “outing” to some place that I believe will prove valuable as source material for the Almanac. On Sunday, I will publish the “story of the week” which will include the tales from my outing, as well as any other interesting or relevant developments from the past week.
Much like today’s letter, this will be intended to give the more dedicated readers a behind-the-scenes look at mast.year
I don’t yet have a complete vision of what kinds of content belong here, so expect the next handful of stories of the week to be quite varied. Please share feedback to help me make it more interesting and relevant.
I do not currently have a plan for my essay writing. I have many, many topics left to explore, and multiple drafts and outlines that could be ready for publication given 5-10 hours each of tidying up. But for now, I will not be setting any essay publication goals. Any that I do write will simply be released as they are completed and will be in addition to, not a replacement for, scheduled publications. Call it a bonus.
Lastly, a project on the immediate horizon whose shape is not yet fully clear. On my outings, I am slowly developing the skills of documentary film-making. I expect this to be yet another area of exploration and growth for me.
Of most immediate interest, I want to be interviewing people at these sites. Perhaps they’re visitors to the park or maybe they’re rangers/staffers. Or maybe the place I’m visiting is a local farm or non-profit and I interview the folks that work there.
This is very much in alignment with my earlier statement about people living with nature, as a part-of nature. I want to tell their stories as well as my own. I want to inspire people to act more intentionally in their own lives by seeing the infinitely diverse ways that their fellow humans are living well in this living world.
Keep an eye out for various forms of telling these stories. Once I iron out the kinks, I’d like to be publishing something small and bite sized weekly (perhaps excerpts from interviews) and something larger and more polished monthly (maybe a short documentary film 5-15 min long)
Two final thoughts for today.
I will combine the story of the day from last week’s outing to Seven Islands State Birding Park in Kodak, TN with the story of the day from this week’s outing in the Sunday letter on July 29th. Putting it off a week will allow me to do it justice without overloading you with info today. At that point I will be caught up and you can expect a story from the outing each week in addition to any other news.
I am undertaking this publication project with the intention of making a living as a writer. Much of what you have seen today is the result of my efforts to increase the professionalism of my process. Beginning in January of 2024, this publication will be switching to a paid publication via Substack’s subscription platform. In the next five months, I will be refining the process so that I can ensure consistent value for my readers. There are two BIG things you can do for me as a reader. Both of these things have the benefit of being two of the easiest things you could do in a day while simultaneously having the most outsize impact relative to your effort.
Thing number one. Provide me with feedback. You can post in the comments section. You can reply to the email. You can contact me any way you know how. Tell me what you like. Tell me what you don’t like. Tell me what you wish you could see that you don’t currently see. For the next 5 months, nothing about this publication is set in stone (and really nothing will be after that either) I’d like to do as much of the dramatic changing of the protocol as possible before people start paying for access. Customers appreciate consistency after all.
Thing number two. Share this publication. By the end of the year, I’ll have a regular presence on every social media platform (and if I’m not on your platform, tell me so I can get on it). Like, follow, subscribe, comment, whatever the platform does, do it. But more important than any of that, share it. Re-post it. Forward the email to your friends and family. Tell people about it. If you like what I’m doing, the best thing you can do is share (it might even be more important than becoming a paid subscriber, at the very least its a close second)
Thank you for your attention. I hope you found this update worth reading. Keep an eye out for the Story of Week 30 next Sunday.
Love,
Charles