After being away for two days, I drove into my customary parking slot and greeted Vince who was working nearby. He said "Justin was killed in a wreck." It was like getting knocked down, blindsided. I was reeling, and starting to grieve. Justin, who usually had an amused sparkle in his eye, was luxurious in few words, at ease in quiet, fluent in music, thoughtful in work. Gone in chaos. The last time I saw Justin, he was busy building the stone wall in front of the Lodge that we designed. We looked in each other's eyes, and there weren't any words to say. No words; no clear thoughts at all; I looked at Justin, felt love, but no words. He seemed a bit bemused like me, like he usually seemed; we hugged goodbye.

What a pity that Rabbi Lerner's voice was not heard during the recent presidential campaign. I find his article strangely comforting. Not only does the good rabbi help me overcome some unhealthy judgmentalism by reassuring me that the motivation of the voters who put Bush back in the White House had something to do with seeking "value in life beyond success in the marketplace"--but he sparks my imagination! He inspires me to begin dreaming about how we whose moral values differ from the "Christian right" can begin to appeal to our common desire for "some sense of transcendent purpose."

Our friend Justin Davis, who spent seven weeks at Lost Valley this summer, returned to Texas at the end of September and died on October 4, 2004 in an automobile accident (see Notes from the Editor, on page 9, for more on Justin and how he contributed to our lives). His partner Karly has graciously allowed us to reprint excerpts from the last few months of his journal. Thank you, Justin, for your enduring words of insight and wisdom.-Ed.

Ecospirituality in My Heart/Eyes

For me ecospiritual means incorporating all non-human things (and human things too!) into my spiritual practice. This means being open to all signs, signals, and communication from all physical and nonphysical living and non-living entities. It also means holding innate respect for the great purpose of all things; the very existence of something is reason enough for me to respect and learn why it exists, because it is there for a reason. It is seeing each thing as a representation/actuality of the great spirit/oneness that holds everything together and is in everything. It does not matter to me that it is not "scientifically verified." I feel most things in the universe are not "scientifically verified"; when I feel something in a present and grounded state, it is true and real for me because my body is an instrument capable of perceiving and recording all sorts of "data."

In July, when I chose the theme for this issue--"Transformation: Endings and Beginnings"--I had little idea of what transformations lay in store. Some transformations were already well under way at Lost Valley--a very large turnover in the makeup of our resident community, for example. Others, including two deaths among our circle of close friends and family, came as great shocks. And the change within the US political system that I hoped would be ushered in on November 2 took a decidedly different turn from what I had in mind.

The late-summer/autumn season itself was full of transformations, which delayed my work on this issue until early November. Some were seasonal: in the months of September and October, we brought in the harvest from the summer crops, and when those were killed by frost, we replanted the garden beds with wintertime vegetables. Until the garlic, winter salad greens, and cover crops are in, autumn gardening is a race against the rain--and fortunately (because I delayed magazine work), we won that race again this year. The beautiful transition from summer's green/brown lushness to autumn's multicolored tapestry (parts of it migrating from twig-tip to ground), and from long, warm, dry days to short, colder, wet ones, was the backdrop to all this garden-related activity.

a letter to the Lost Valley community, October 12, 2004

To all of you, who have sent so much love and held me from so far away, thank you. I want to respond to each of you individually and do not have the energy right now. I know you understand. It has been incredible to receive so much support from you. Wow. I am so blessed.

The funeral was beautiful. One of the first things the preacher said was that he was reminded of the words of Jesus when he read the mission statement of the Lost Valley Educational Center and intentional community where Justin spent time this summer. Then he actually read the mission statement and I felt so loved and recognized.