Page 80 - ECOlogic Book

miles way. There is a church, but no minister. Those duties are assumed by
the local disc jockey, an ex-con philosopher/poet with a heart of gold.
Everyone in the town, though they argue and slam doors, is accepted as a
member of the community. The celebration of an Indian ritual, a baptism,
an artwork, a funeral, is enjoyed by all; everyone turns out to support the
celebrant, even if the celebrant’s tradition is a mystery to others. A minion
is imported to say Kaddish for a recently deceased uncle of the Jewish
doctor; a medicine man is consulted in a baffling illness; an itinerant priest is
imported for a Catholic baptism, with the Ex-con DJ gleefully acting as
acolyte; the priest and the atheist saloon-keeper arm wrestle good –
naturedly over points of doctrine; the Indian boy, who is studying to be a
shaman, also aspires to be a Hollywood type film-maker; a woman falls in
love with a bear and an elk communicates with his hunter. Anything can
happen in this unusual town, and it usually does.

As the TV series has discovered, the juxtaposition of the wild and the
civilized is a rich venue for the impossible. Here, on the North American
continent (or Turtle island), we’re still feeling the effects of such a
juxtaposition, the one between the European and Indian traditions. We’re
still working out the subtle details of a new society which has been born
here, combining the best (and worst?) of both.

Edge times seem as magical as edge places. Twilight and pre-dawn are
times full of mystery, as are the seasons, spring and fall – transition times,
and times on the cusp, when one era is over and another not yet begun.
Perhaps we are, at this moment, at another such cultural edge-point,
historically speaking. Typically, at such times, all the old assumptions break
down to make way for the new. Knowing this might validate the confusion
each of us feels in our individual life.

It’s in these edge places that the new gets born. Chaos theory has shown
us how, far from being a state of utter confusion and meaninglessness,
chaos is where old components, now thrown out of their accustomed status-
quo orbits, get mixed up, can bump into each other, and join up into new
combinations. Only in a place like Cicely, Alaska (Northern Exposure’s
fictional town) would you find the Native American receptionist a dinner
guest at the table of the wealthy ex-astronaut/land baron. Only in Cicely
can the grubby hostile Vietnam vet practice his exemplary culinary skills,
barefooted, contemptible, unshaven. Only in Cicely can the Grosse Pointe
debutante fly the bush plane.

80