An ode to Graham Bell by Sandy James

An ode to Graham Bell by Sandy James

Graham Bell, my father, was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. For the few weeks since he was taken into hospital the song “The little church”, which we had on cassette as kids and have sung together many times, has been stuck in my head. Dad has been home, comfortable and buoyed up wonderfully with many kind messages from friends. He passed away last night and I think this is what has been trying to come out. The family have all been most grateful for this time together and that he was able to be home, pain free and himself until the end. He wasn’t a religious man, but it’s a pleasant song and a lovely memory.

If you want your dreams to be, build them slow and surely

I think this line is one of the simplest expressions of permaculture. The idea that we would want the world to be otherwise, the combination of “doing” and “being” which Dad mentioned often and the notion of taking the time and care to be mindful. He tended to use phrases like “living lightly on the Earth” or “leaving the world better than we found it” to describe how he thought we should behave. He wouldn’t have said that he was “doing permaculture” but rather that it was the way in which he viewed the world.

Do few things, do them well

On first appearances, anyone might have thought that Dad didn’t stick to this, he was fond of saying “I’ve had a wonderful career, I’ve careered from one thing to another”. On the other hand, what he really did was to design. He was a creative tour de force, starting many projects, businesses, gardens and human relationships with a conscious toolkit. This is permaculture, a way of approaching any task, and Dad embodied this every day.

Heartfelt work grows purely

Dad was known as a clear and emotional communicator, and that was reflected in the well wishes which came in since he was diagnosed: “You have given your time, yourself, to us all. One by one, day in, day out – sharing your knowledge, experience and love and giving part of yourself. By your expertise and generosity, you have helped hundreds of people change their lives for the better and given us all the tools so that we too can help others. You have created a virtuous circle, one that has lasting impact. You will live on in the people whose lives you have touched, and the people that their lives touch.” Karen Birch

If you want to live life free, take your time go slowly

Dad lived in many places, in his childhood, at “college” in Oxford, in London and then finally setting roots in Coldstream where together with my mother and many allies he built the Garden Cottage into a beautiful family home and productive garden. This is very much a demonstration site, for teaching, for visiting and for research. It was certainly never an escape from society. The Garden Cottage was built on the legacy of forerunners like Bill Mollison and Robert Hart, and has been developed by many since, which brought Dad much joy and pride.

Day by day, stone by stone, build your secret wholly

Dad leaves behind a tremendous legacy including three books (his autobiography “Life Through a Kaleidoscope” will be available in one form or another soon), a mature forest garden and most importantly an impact on the lives of some thousands of people. For many of these people, their contact with Dad coincided with a massive change in the direction of their lives, and the impacts that those people have gone on to have on the world are truly massive. This is the power of a transformative movement, the network and the many small actions and relationships which make it up. Dad was fond of a ‘bit’, which he attributed to Bill Mollison, of saying to people one on one: “I don’t think you and I can change the world, I think it’s going to take three of us.” He lives on in our collective memory, and that gives me much joy.

Day by day, you’ll grow too, you’ll know heaven’s glory

I believe that we all spend our whole lives growing up. Dad told me in his last few weeks that he realised he had neglected his own health in amongst his many projects. I wasn’t sure about including this but I increasingly think it’s important that activists consider the sustainability of our activism. We feel instinctively that self care is selfish, when in fact it is the opposite. If we consider our own contributions of utmost importance, and work beyond our boundaries as a result, we deprive the movement of our future contributions. My father was in many ways his best self in his last days, and I think did find peace in the contemplation of his life’s achievements.

Small beginnings, greater ends, heartfelt work grows purely

Today, March 1st, my father passed away. I think he would have appreciated the poetry of a death on the first day of spring, his greatest end at the time of nature’s biggest potential.