
the Moon tells the Sky, the Sky tells the Sea,
the Sea tells the Tide, and the Tide tells Me
Lemn Sissay
I suppose I accidentally fell down the rabbit hole of studying duality as a young graduate student in fisheries and wildlife. Having grown up commercial fishing and then working with scientists and fisheries managers during the the early days of the salmon crisis, one question became a bit of an obsession - when it was clear that both “sides” really had the same core goals and priorities of sustainability and wise use of natural resource, why did most people see themselves as bitterly embattled against an enemy?
Across decades, this primary question resolved into an answer that opened new doors of research - into better understanding the nature of duality itself in order to recognize and transcend the abuse of it. That same pattern that I recognized in watershed management all those years ago continues to play out on many scales of human life. In communities, in families, in politics, in marriages, and within the self.
These days, I attempt to continue my work at both the micro and macro scales, seeking practical and grounded understanding of complex dynamics. Becoming a salt maker has provided a beautiful vehicle for that praxis. Salt is itself a manifestation of duality. Without the relationship between the sun and the moon, seawater would not naturally evaporate and reveal its mineral bounty. Without the give and take between the landscape and the water cycle, the minerals within the salt could not be created. Salt itself is not only born from active, healthy, duality but also embodies it. Salt is both a preservative and a desiccant. Both completely necessary for biological life and also a bringer of death. The death and rebirth process in a very small package.
When examining a problem of polarization, one simple question is a very useful starting point: Where is the salt?

