The following quote is the final entry in Philipe Burseillr’s book, 365 Ways to Save the Earth. With each entry corresponding to those on a 365-day calendar, it’s titled “December 31.”
Keep hope. To fully implement every change detailed in this book could take far longer than a year. And the suggestions here are just the tip of the (vanishing) iceberg. Pondering the state of our planet, our role in its degradation, and the sheer number of changes big and small that we have yet to enact is, to put it very mildly, overwhelming. But pessimism is not going to solve any of our problems: While sorting through the cold, hard facts, we must also take the time to recognize the enduring beauty of the earth and the resilience and creativity of the people who inhabit it. Stay positive. Stay motivated. Do your best every day and focus not on the damage already done but on the achievable goal of a sustainable future.
Key words: hope, recognize, beauty, creativity, positive, sustainable, future.
When I was a teen and the winter wind bit through the horsehair plaster of my parents’ hundred-year-old Central Pennsylvania relic, I developed something of a solution. I’d sneak into the room containing the thermostat (variously the dining room or office, decade depending), and I’d bump it from 65 or 70 to 80 or 85.
Problem solved.
I’d then continue prancing around the house wearing shorts and a tee-shirt.
This worked for a while, and I bathed in the glow of the home’s creaking old radiators. Nobody said anything for a couple weeks, but parental sleuthing eventually led to a fairly brief interrogation. I, the guilty party, was exposed. A warning was issued. We went back to living. And that darn horsehair plaster began leaking cold air again. Goosebumps spread across my legs. The process repeated.
A few more weeks led to cyclical action and, of course, the reaction to my meddling procured a more stern reprimand. I’d be fined five dollars the next time the thermostat was discovered anywhere above 70. That way I would understand that heat isn’t free, that resources come from somewhere, and I might want to consider the somewhere from where they come.
“But what happens if it isn’t me?” I plead. “Someone else might flip that little dial–maybe even by accident.”
“Put on a pair of pants and a sweater,” I was told.
The inevitable, of course, came to pass. Following a few weeks of five-dollar fines the penalty was doubled. Before the winter was over I was paying twenty bucks per infraction, though of course I eventually learned to jack the heat only when my parents were away from the house. When the headlights of their car arrived in the street I’d make a mad dash for the thermostat and briefly open a few windows to cool the place off before they walked in the door.
Unfortunately, it was decades later that I finally paused to consider what actually happens when you turn up the heat, leave on the lights or let your car idle when you run into the store. Unfazed by dollars and cents–or loss thereof–I had to begin studying the natural world to understand.
“Those dams and reservoirs are awful,” I’d say. “They kill fish and destroy rivers.”
“Those mines are ghastly,” I’d think. “They rape the earth of her fruits and pollute her streams, rivers and forests.”
“That oil-shale drilling is ridiculous,” I’d ponder. “Wild places suffer under exploration and exploitation, and wild places are full of adventure, mystery and soul.”
That’s about the time I paused to look at myself, something that’s often a tragic final episode in the human quest for enlightenment. Even if it was late in life, my introspection told me this: Every dollar I spend on heat, light and hot water is a dollar procured in some form or fashion from the Earth. And it doesn’t stop there. Every dollar I spend on a square foot of house, on a trinket or gadget, on processed food, or on some jet-setting vacation is a dollar procured from the Earth. Suddenly I realized the significance of the fines. The dollars slipping through my pockets hadn’t much bothered me, but I finally understood. I had been paying for my own exploitation of the wild places I held dear. I was part of the collective cause of the dams, mines and oil shale exploration. My quest for warmth-while-wearing-shorts was part of the problem.
In What Every Westerner Should Know about Energy, a paper published in 2003 by the Center of the American West at the University of Colorado at Boulder, the authors attempt to warm us to this point.
So, You Want to Make Toast? What happens inside that little metal box, attached to the wall by a black tail, when you stick two slices of bread inside? The mysteries of the bread-to-toast phenomenon will now be revealed.
First, we will assume that you made the bread, and raised and ground the wheat, which will allow us to leave aside for now the discussion of the role energy plays in food production . . . There is nothing direct or linear in the modern chain of toast production. At each stage, some energy produces work, and a significant amount of energy is also lost. There is, decidedly, no free lunch, or breakfast. The processes of extracting, transporting, and processing oil and coal into energy usable by consumers require fuel to run railroads, pumps, refineries, and generating plants. When you look at the numbers on your monthly energy bill, you are seeing the Cliff Notes, the Reader’s Digest, the telegraphically brief plot summary of a much larger story of the movement of matter around the surface of the earth.
And that brings me to an important word: energy.
New agers like to discuss energy in the context of the amount of calories invested in relationships, received from connecting with the present during a meditative yoga session—or the amount sucked away during a day at the office or while helping a friend through a tumultuous emotional experience. Though it’s difficult to quantify, this form of energy is no different from that procured from mines, wells and wilderness. It’s many steps removed from the process of making toast or heating a home, but energy invested in life is energy procured from the Earth. Toast eaten is energy converted during yoga sessions and while working long days at the office.
A few years ago I spent a few days camping with a group of dignitaries in the wilds of central Idaho. A wise man among them, a man for whom I have the utmost respect, said the following: Out of a passion for wild places should grow an obligation to those same landscapes. Any relationship needs to be reciprocal. “We take from the land incessantly, but we rarely give back. We are obligated to give back.”
Obligated to give back, he said. Obligated the way we are to return favors. Obligated the way we are to return kindness. Obligated the way we are to love, give, forgive, settle our differences and live. We are obligated to love life.
It’s no different than with the people for whom we care. Those people, after all, are sustained by the life blood of the land on which they live. We are, every one of us, sustained by each other, and we are, every one of us, sustained by the earth–all children of a beautiful life-force from which we thrive and of which we are a part, drops of water of the same pond. When that force withers, when the pond dries, we will cease to be along with it.
These ideas are universals; they apply to every area of our existence, from building homes to creating relationships, from making career choices to giving back to Mother Earth, from sustaining families to building romantic relationships–or repairing friendships gone awry. In a very real sense every idea presented in 365 Ways to Save the Earth can be applied to mankind. The book might just as easily be titled 365 Ways to Save Yourself.
The key words in the book’s final entry are worth restating: hope, recognize, beauty, creativity, positive, sustainable, future. They are underscored–in fact filtered through–a bigger concept still: love. I don’t think I’m too far out on a limb if I say that all forward thinking ideals are derived from this place. Love is hopeful, recognizable, beautiful, creative and positive. Most important, though, love is sustainable.
Love wild places the way you love your family and friends; love your family and friends the way you love wild places. Seek balance with the planet the way you seek sustainability with the people for whom you care. Recognize that your home is an extension of yourself and use it to grow things, yourself foremost among them. Consume fewer natural resources to make heat (or toast). Ride a bike. Walk. Shop at stores that sell locally-made goods. Recycle. Exercise. Learn. Grow. And, above all, love. Love the earth; love your neighbors; love yourself.
And have a blessed new year.
© Greg Stahl
greg, you’re one of my heroes. thank YOU.
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Again, I always enjoy the thoughulness that you bring to your writing. As I look at the past year and look to the year in front of me, not yet here, but on the verge, it strikes me as interesting the resolutions we pick for ourself in light of the analysis of the year just completed. In your writing above, what caught my attention were the comments regarding the reciprocation and obligation: Any relationship needs to be reciprocal. “We take from the land incessantly, but we rarely give back. We are obligated to give back.” Over the past year, I have been blessed by the many friends and family who are in my life who continue to nurture me as I evolve. I, in return, feel like I have come to a more healthy balance with the give and take of a relationship, though at times I still may be the one giving more or taking more.
The holiday season is a chance to remind us all that it is the joy and blessings we give to others that truly nurture our souls. I just completed this presentation for the Community Wellness center in Huntingdon over the break after my dad indirectly volunteered me. When I saw the need by the people who showed up and the questions and gratitude they expressed for the information and time to have their questions answered, it was me who was grateful for the experience to help others become more informed and hopefully provide a service. Perhaps strange, but just a thought….take care.
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Greg Reply:
January 1st, 2010 at 1:59 pm
Michele, I think you hit the nail on the head. It’s not giving back to Mama Nature per se, but giving back. To something. Or somebody. Or, simply, not taking all the time. I think our culture’s capitalistic underpinnings make all of us more greedy than we need be, and I unfortunately see financial greed (which we focus on all the time) stemming into personal relationships. How could it not? We are what we focus on, and we’re constantly focused on the bottom line and getting ahead financially… To some extent it’s a chicken-and-egg conversation. And to some extent, our need to for food and shelter just is, even if we’ve managed to take it to wasteful and extravagant extremes.
A friend and I went to see the movie Avatar to ring in the new year last night. It was fun–and affirming, I guess–to see the same ideas at work. Mining has long been on my list of highly metaphorical activities. We need to mine minerals, sure, but do we need to turn mountains inside out? At some point the machine that is society simply perpetuates itself.
The point is, though, environmental, social and interpersonal balance is achievable. And it starts with 1) individual awareness and 2) individual action. Personal empowerment seems to be another thing in need of attention…
But that’s another essay.
Thanks for chiming in.
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Michele Kissinger Reply:
January 2nd, 2010 at 6:37 pm
I’m glad that you liked my comments and found some truth in them. It is interesting that you went to see Avatar. I recently saw an interview with James Cameron on 60 Minutes who directed Avatar and previously did the Terminator movies and Titanic. This story and his desire to make this movie existed for more than 15 years, but the lack of technology limited and prohibited him from making this movie. However, without his commercial success in a capitalistic society, he could not have made this movie that cost over 400 million dollars to complete, much coming from him. Astonishing when you think of the money spent on making this movie and what could have been done with the money. It causes me to question, “What does it cost to get your message out or vision presented and is it worth the cost? I have not seen the movie and can not judge its worth or the importance of its message. If you enjoyed it and found meaning and a connection to its message, then part or most of the director’s mission has been achieved.
I too usually attend the movies over the x-mas break and went to see a movie called, Up in the Air. It relates to the interpersonal relationships that define our lives and what can and cannot exist in one’s life, depending on the choices made and the consequences of those choices. George Clooney plays a man who works for a firm whose employees go to other companies to fire the staff. Talk about a depressing job, but it is interesting the life choices this character has made and how his choice of employment has shaped those life choices. He is not a man without ambition, seeking a goal he only holds in his head, refusing to communicate with others. However, after allowing someone into his life and reconnecting with his family, this goal does not seem to hold the importance it once had. It is a movie that causes you to think, which I like…However, I did enjoy watching some comedy from Robin Williams afterwards to lighten the mood.
Anyways, just some thoughts running through my head. I hope you did enjoy the movie and had a nice new year’s. As always…take care
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Greg Reply:
January 3rd, 2010 at 1:08 pm
Hey, I talked with a friend just yesterday about your exact point. That the budget and resources involved in creating Avatar are part of the problem. And that begs the question: is it more important to distribute such a message in a way the masses will consume (which it does), or is it more important to simply conserve resources across the board.
My on-the-fly conclusion was that people need to hear the message, and most certainly are not reading little essays like the one above. If they do read it, they may find it preachy. Avatar is a story they’ll enjoy and watch over and again. The message is slightly more hidden, though not much in that movie. Hopefully they hear it.
There’s no easy fix, and I know that some people won’t get it even after watching the movie five times. They’ll walk out, say “gee, that was fun,” as if they’d just finished a beer, and get on with life. It was like this for Star Wars for decades. I’d seen the movies 10 times before I understood the genius of the story.
But Avatar will be seen by many, and if even a small percentage take that message away, that’ll be a good thing. It’s unfortunately probably impossible to quantify.
About 10 years ago I attended an event called The Frank Church Lectures in Sun Valley. The keynote speaker was Rod Nash, author of Wilderness and the American Mind. I remember him talking about people as a cancer on the planet. I thought he was smoking something. Through a decade of further examination and repeated messages from various sources, like Avatar and others, I can see the point.
WALL-E. Must rent and watch.
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Greg Reply:
January 3rd, 2010 at 12:56 pm
My favorite part in Wall-E is when the captain says to the autopilot: “Auto, you … are … relieved … of … DUTY.”
It’s the same thing in life. This is the same moment when the alcoholic decides to quit, when the smoker chooses to become smoke-free, when the codependant goes to counseling, or, perhaps, when the successful capitalist realizes there’s no point in amassing further wealth and decides to give back.
Great movie. For a lot of reasons.
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bringing it back again to mathematical proofs, i postulate that *in this case,* the reverse of the statement is true.
as much as the root of sustainability is love,
there must be sustainability at the root of love.
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Greg Stahl Reply:
April 19th, 2010 at 8:58 am
You’re so smart. I like the way you just made my brain singe with its first not-easy thoughts of the new week. I cannot disagree. In fact, I wholeheartedly agree.
I’m recalling the quote from an old friend, something about relationships having to be reciprocal. I think it’s quoted above, actually.
I just uncovered nine definitions for reciprocal, but one of them reads thus: “corresponding; matching; complementary; equivalent.”
Back to math, then. The word reciprocal equals the equals sign in an equation. Give and take, take and give. Without reciprocity, a relationship with anything does not exist.
Sustainability = love.
Love = sustainability.
Thanks, Staci.
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staci Reply:
April 28th, 2010 at 4:23 am
you’re so welcome. =)
something else i love, too, about this writing is your sharing the fact that you, in your childhood, had to learn from your folks something that so many of us do in temperate climates… my son hates it when i remind him in the winter that our most effective form of heat is “go put a sweater on.” haha
on a more serious note, when you love, really really love, there are few lengths that you won’t go to in order to do the right thing. and if we each demonstrate that love for our earth, for our children, for each other, for ourselves, it doesn’t seem complicated at all to make progress in a good direction. i thank you for this piece, greg. it was a great way to welcome the new year.
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