I'm supposed to be working on a paper right now. But, sometimes the writing machine just needs to be primed by writing about something else.
So, I just completed a reading assignment for my Environment and Development course. It was a thought-provoking read, where the author, Ralph Metzner, advocates (and claims he observes) the emergence of a new thought paradigm: The Ecological Age. It's what in Metzner's world view needs to come after the current Industrial-Technological Age. You can read the entire article here. I promise it's not that technical.
My comment is just this -- too bad it's not as simple as defining a new world paradigm and starting to live it. Historically, we have to have some sort of paradigm-shifting event to drive us out of our old, sometimes-too-comfortable paradigms. In this way, maybe economic catastrophe isn't the worst thing that we could face right now.
Easy for me to say - our economic paradigm shift is a few years old now and I'm starting to get used to the personal economy of the smaller scale.
So, sorry all -- perhaps economic bad news isn't all bad news after all.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Fear and Deprivation
Ten days ago, I bought a new car. Well, it is a used car - one year used. And I love my new ride.
Still, there are some parts of the decision that I am not happy with, and here's what I mentally wrestling with.
And yet, isn't this where many of us make decisions? I know enough to know that I've been here before - buying my first home, buying my last car and many other decisions too personal to mention.
It's a shame that of all the emotions that our economy and our world could run on - these are the two that we've chosen.
Still, there are some parts of the decision that I am not happy with, and here's what I mentally wrestling with.
- Despite the fact that I drove the same sedan for nine years, I feel a bit guilty about buying a newer vehicle now - in the middle of the economic mess when I feel that instead, I should be saving my money instead of giving it to a car dealership.
- The vehicle I purchased gets about 60% of the gas mileage of my old sedan. Nevermind that I drive easily 60% less than I did in the days of commuting to work everyday and that I live in a 100% walkable community and that even at this reduced gas mileage the new vehicle burns about half the gas of my husband's ride of choice, I still feel guilty about burning more fuel when I do drive.
- There's a button for everything in this vehicle. I thought that would be a good thing, but now that I've owned it for one week, I'm a bit dismayed that there's a button for everything.
And yet, isn't this where many of us make decisions? I know enough to know that I've been here before - buying my first home, buying my last car and many other decisions too personal to mention.
It's a shame that of all the emotions that our economy and our world could run on - these are the two that we've chosen.
Friday, February 13, 2009
What I've been up to Lately
Well, I've been back in school since the end of January. It's put a serious dent into my free time.
My first assignment (and really the first time I've written academically in over a year) was a contribution to our class wiki page on the teachings of major world religions regarding the environment.
It was a difficult subject for me. I was the only one in my class who wrote on a religion that they subscribe to, so I took an exceptionally personal interest in what I found. I have to admit that I didn't like everything that I found. I am, however, encouraged by recent developments.
If you're interested you can read my contribution (and those of my classmates) here.
My first assignment (and really the first time I've written academically in over a year) was a contribution to our class wiki page on the teachings of major world religions regarding the environment.
It was a difficult subject for me. I was the only one in my class who wrote on a religion that they subscribe to, so I took an exceptionally personal interest in what I found. I have to admit that I didn't like everything that I found. I am, however, encouraged by recent developments.
If you're interested you can read my contribution (and those of my classmates) here.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Imagine a New World
I'm reading Thomas Friedman's Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution--and How It Can Renew America for a class I'm taking. I have to admit it's a fascinating read. I love the part where he suggests that America challenge China to a "Green Race" similar to our Space Race with the former Soviet Union. Lots of good ideas in this book.
Basically, he challenges us to think way outside the box, and use that great American ingenuity to find a way to conquer global environmental challenges.
So, I was trying to imagine a world without containers (as I sipped on a soda from a convenience store, of course). What would that world look like?
I got bogged down as I considered an alternative to sippy cups.
Basically, he challenges us to think way outside the box, and use that great American ingenuity to find a way to conquer global environmental challenges.
So, I was trying to imagine a world without containers (as I sipped on a soda from a convenience store, of course). What would that world look like?
I got bogged down as I considered an alternative to sippy cups.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Snow Bound - John Greenleaf Whittier
Several weeks ago, I came to own a scrapbook that someone had created during WWII. Among the newspaper clippings was this excerpt from John Greenleaf Whittier's Snow Bound. Fitting for the winter weather we've had -- and a reminder that newspapers used to be so much more than they are today.
As night drew on, and, from the crest
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west,
The sun, a snow-blown traveller, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back, --
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty forestick laid apart,
And filled between with curious art
The ragged brush; then, hovering near,
We watched the first red blaze appear,
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old, rude-furnished room
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom;
While radiant with a mimic flame
Outside the sparkling drift became,
And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree
Our own warm hearth seemed blazing free...
Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north-wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost-line back with tropic heat;
And ever, when a louder blast
Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
The merrier up its roaring draught
The great throat of the chimney laughed;
The house-dog on his paws outspread
Laid to the fire his drowsy head,
The cat's dark silhouette on the wall
A couchant tiger's seemed to fall;
And, for the winter fireside meet,
Between the andirons' straddling feet,
The mug of cider simmered slow,
The apples sputtered in a row,
And, close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.
****************************
Read more about Whittier here.
Read the full version of Snow Bound here. (Please note that this is a very somber poem in it's entirety, as the poet recalls this childhood memory of the winter storm, then laments the passing of those from that night who have since passed on.)
As night drew on, and, from the crest
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west,
The sun, a snow-blown traveller, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back, --
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty forestick laid apart,
And filled between with curious art
The ragged brush; then, hovering near,
We watched the first red blaze appear,
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old, rude-furnished room
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom;
While radiant with a mimic flame
Outside the sparkling drift became,
And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree
Our own warm hearth seemed blazing free...
Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north-wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost-line back with tropic heat;
And ever, when a louder blast
Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
The merrier up its roaring draught
The great throat of the chimney laughed;
The house-dog on his paws outspread
Laid to the fire his drowsy head,
The cat's dark silhouette on the wall
A couchant tiger's seemed to fall;
And, for the winter fireside meet,
Between the andirons' straddling feet,
The mug of cider simmered slow,
The apples sputtered in a row,
And, close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.
****************************
Read more about Whittier here.
Read the full version of Snow Bound here. (Please note that this is a very somber poem in it's entirety, as the poet recalls this childhood memory of the winter storm, then laments the passing of those from that night who have since passed on.)
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Perfect Day
June 12th, 2008.
My memories of it are already starting to fade, but this I remember:
We turned in his books. Princess Pea and I stayed in the car and played while Baby J slept. She pretended to drive and turn on the radio. A man told me she was beautiful, he always wanted girls, but had all boys. I urged him to hope for granddaughters.
We went to music class and all acted like kids.
We had lunch together at a favorite spot.
The weather was perfect.
In the evening, we picked up chicken and drove to Beavertail State Park on Conanicut Island for a picnic. We spread a green wool blanket on the grass overlooking the rocks on the east side. Princess Pea and her dad walked along the rocks – she thrilled and dad petrified. It was very breezy, and we all wished that we had sweatshirts.
Here I learned the romance of no romance. The romance of doing the everyday, and loving it.
My memories of it are already starting to fade, but this I remember:
We turned in his books. Princess Pea and I stayed in the car and played while Baby J slept. She pretended to drive and turn on the radio. A man told me she was beautiful, he always wanted girls, but had all boys. I urged him to hope for granddaughters.
We went to music class and all acted like kids.
We had lunch together at a favorite spot.
The weather was perfect.
In the evening, we picked up chicken and drove to Beavertail State Park on Conanicut Island for a picnic. We spread a green wool blanket on the grass overlooking the rocks on the east side. Princess Pea and her dad walked along the rocks – she thrilled and dad petrified. It was very breezy, and we all wished that we had sweatshirts.
Here I learned the romance of no romance. The romance of doing the everyday, and loving it.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Just what I do
I follow Christine Kane's Blog devotedly. Yesterday's post struck a chord with me. The bottom line: "The meaning of Creativity is choosing to be the creator, not the reactor." She reminds us that creating routine and ritual helps us take the volatile emotions away from situations that can overwhelm and derail us.
Say to yourself, "This is just what I do" and use the ritual to move through the rough patches. I said that to myself last night at 6:30pm, 7:15pm, 11:50pm, 12:40am, 3:30am and again at 5:15am -- "Get up, this is just what you do, you are the Mom, you are what makes this family work."
Now, I don't make it part of my routine to wake up frequently in the middle of the night, but I do have a kid(s)-awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night routine. Go. Soothe. Mend. Snuggle. Return to bed. Many have told me I do too much, but the routine I've created works for us.
Say to yourself, "This is just what I do" and use the ritual to move through the rough patches. I said that to myself last night at 6:30pm, 7:15pm, 11:50pm, 12:40am, 3:30am and again at 5:15am -- "Get up, this is just what you do, you are the Mom, you are what makes this family work."
Now, I don't make it part of my routine to wake up frequently in the middle of the night, but I do have a kid(s)-awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night routine. Go. Soothe. Mend. Snuggle. Return to bed. Many have told me I do too much, but the routine I've created works for us.
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