Last night, we sang in the army bunkers, a favourite spot for sound in Port Townsend. The echo of old cement walls, hallways, and passages are gloriously resonant, and at first we are two, then three, and four, sharing harmony and healing words. 

A few songs in, we are joined by a 15 year old fellow, a self proclaimed fan of 'rhythm and blues and muscle cars', who originally stopped us asking if we'd seen a few 'punk ass kids' around he'd been looking for with a heavy duty flashlight. He and his old derby hat sang right with us and couldn't resist after every song expressing how calming and beautiful it was. 

Then, as people walked by wondering what the singing was about, we'd wave and welcome them in. We were joined by two more young guys, then three more young guys, a group of three young girls, and soon we were a group in total of about twenty, singing simple songs together in the army bunkers. 

They were all middle-and-high-schoolers and -- though some of them sometimes would look sideways at each other, wondering if what they were all doing was socially acceptable, or kept themselves composed in a way that said "this is a little crazy" -- everyone sang, and smiled. And we sang! Soulfully, song after song, getting into more complicated rounds, four part harmonies.  The very words we sang, "If you can walk, you can dance. If you can talk, you can sing," an affirmation to the magic of our insta-choir. 

Gretchen Sleicher turns to me as everyone is leaving and says, "You know what that says to me? EVERYONE can sing and wants to sing." We've seen the number of intentional singing programs in and out of schools increases as public funding for the arts decreases. Somehow, in the collapse of everything, resurgence is happening consciously, and perhaps everything -- from art programs to villages -- needed to die in order to bring our deepest needs for things that are simple and important to existence now with intention. 

The musical vibration of song is a deeply primal Placemaking tool. At once, we are in a cement room surrounded by gun batteries, and at once when we are leaving one young man says, "Now these will never be scary." Our voices bring a change to the space that is in one state, and then is transformed. I have felt in every place where I have sang, some indescribable energetic shift in the universe that began in resonance from a musical tone. Laurence Cole often says, "Human Being are Singing Things," and it is well believed we have been singing long before there was language. I feel this remembered by the Earth, and Everything listens deeper to each other with the singing of Human Beings, just as the quiver of aspen leaves and the trickle of a creek.

Some Buddhist monks undergo an initiation of seven years of isolation in a cave, removed from society and much of the natural world, so that when they emerge they are so touched by the beauty of the physical world that they remain in a state of bliss for the rest of their life. After building at Laurence & Deanna's house last week, we went to the beach for sunset and as we remembered this, we thought with so many millions of people confined to office cubicles and factory sweat shops, we've got an entire culture of enlightened bliss right on the edge! The initiation of 'the information age' will free itself into grief, and creativity, and Love deeper than we have possibly known as a species. We saw a glimpse of this with the teenagers who joined us, many of whom expressed they've never done anything like that before, and who sang proudly together.

I climb to the top of the bunkers to watch the sunset. I'm singing with just myself, still processing the magic that has just occurred with the teenagers and us below. An enormous cannon used to shoot from below where I stand, out into the ocean where I see the golden-rose light outlining the San Juan islands, Victoria, BC, turning the sea into liquid Love. Last night, a friend and I ate dinner at sunset on the other side of the water, Port Townsend looking like a speck of civilization, sailboat harbors, gushing smoke from the paper mill... a tiny cluster of activity only a thumbprint on the base Olympic Mountains, blue and snowy, behind their proud evergreen foothills. What once was war, is now watched over in relative peace, and I feel this as a prayer for peace everywhere. I stand on the place we looked out to yesterday, the cascade mountains are strong at my back and blushing pink and I can't help but know I live in one of the the most beautiful place on Earth in this moment. 

Sunlight streams through a fine filter of beauty, through tall grasses, butterfly wings, blooming wildflowers, and fantastic cloud forms, then touching the ground. This Place is changed this with our presence and our song. I feel the words of Alexa Sunshine Rose deep in every molecule of my body:

We are created by sound, we are created by the song of the universe.

This post is inspired by a story my friend, Wayne, told me about a young girl on the east coast that wanted her school to support a recycling program. She collected all the data and information needed to not only 'make the case" for why, but also the resources necessary to do it. She kept presenting her case to adults - teachers, principals, deans - and no one would take on the work. Wayne asked her why she needed an adult to accomplish the task. She had all the tools, why wait? 

She went on to successfully implement recycling in her entire school district.

We hear the phrase, "Kids are our future," tossed around, and yet it is rare to include them in the basic decision making processes of how this "future" is being shaped. On the whole, children are not included in processes of governance, parks and city planning, building, growing food, or business development, and yet are expected to take responsibility for these things - and change them for the better - as adults. 

At the intersection of SE 9th & Sherrett in Portland, also called "Share-It-Square", the neighborhood has visioning sessions each year for what the street painting will be. Since its origin as the first intersection painting in the country in 1996, each year it has been painted with a new design based on what their neighbors feel is right for them this year. And who is in the room during the visioning sessions? Everyone. Neighbors of all ages, adults, elders, kids. Most years, the best designs come out of the kids. 

In the photo above, the design of a flower in bloom, spreading its seeds around the neighborhood was an idea that came from a nine year old during one of the design charrettes. Everyone loved it and it became the theme for this year. 

Involving kids in the decision-making process on a neighborhood scale not only re-inoculates adults with creative energy and bring vibrancy to design ideas, but it involves them in a culture of inclusion. Kids that live in neighborhoods were these projects take place, are surrounded by adults who are collaboratively working with each other to transform the place where they live. They're surrounded by adults who are respecting each other, listening to each other, and co-creating together. It's a level of Trust and Love to be infused into practical, daily life, one project at a time. 

Designing Playscapes, planting gardens, building houses, tending water sources, working with crystals, creating art... in a culture whose values are based on inclusivity, the line between "activities for kids" and "activities for adults" blurs. We see the most productive and least destructive societies are ones where, intergenerationally, we work together, thus creating less superfluous work, and greater meaning and fulfillment for the whole.

From big projects, to daily decisions, involving kids in the process and celebrating their contributions is vital to "the future" we so seek to better. 

Kids are not our future. They are our now. Their ideas, energy, and Love are valuable now. And it is for the benefit of everyone to cultivate their feelings of worth, belonging, and personal power.