Dear God, "Why?" thoughts on Climate Change

That’s the thing about climate change. There is no clear enemy; there is no clear, simple, or easy solution. WE are the enemy; the very fabric of our society is the enemy. We can petition our government to create policies, laws and regulations that protect the environment, we can publicly demand that the US at least attend things like the Kyoto accord, not to abandon the Paris agreement—yes, of course. We are not powerless to act, to demand change, to hold our leaders accountable. I am not saying that those are not important, meaningful or a waste of time. I am saying that first of all to lobby for those things is a complex multifaceted endeavor and the problem feels so vast, so overwhelming and all encompassing, that I think we can all feel extremely powerless, despairing and hopeless.

          We can visualize a government that allocates resources for green energy and technology investment, strictly regulates energy and pollution, and STILL have a completely an out-of-control irreversible climate change problem, because there are OTHER countries polluting, etc., even IF the US wasn’t, and it IS. Our whole society, our psychology, our culture, our economic system, our way of life IS harmful to the ecology of the planet. AND HOW DO YOU FIX THAT? HOW DO YOU CHANGE THAT? 

           Ever hear of the tipping point in relation to arctic sea ice? Do you know what that is? IT’S CALLED IRREVERSIBLE, and we’ve already PASSED IT. The sea ice has not recovered since 2007, and the changes may well be “locked in,” IRREVERSIBLE (Pearce, 2012).

 Don’t get me started on species extinction, deforestation, the Trans-Amazononian highway, soil degradation, ocean acidification, the coral reefs dying, or “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch,” “a mass of floating plastic debris that scientists estimate is at least twice the size of the state of Texas” (Doucette, 2009).

Faced with all the dire news, and our current US government administration, it is hard not to DESPAIR, and aren’t we all distracted with the minutia of our day-to-day lives? How can we not be consumed by such minutia? We work long, stressful hours (ok some of us do), we have families to raise, lawns to mow, dishes to be washed, youtube, facebook, novels, a spiritual practice, friends to see, school work to complete, dances to learn, constantly feeling hunger and the need to eat, and A THOUSAND OTHER DISTRACTIONS. Even if we somehow spend time in activism, there are so many things to protest! The racism in the US alone is enough to fill a lifetime of marches!

And the final conclusion to which I am so familiar and accustomed to feeling every single time the grief of climate change and its dire implications descends on me is sheer, unadulterated APATHY. The pernicious thought slides in to soothe such fiery passion, to mollify the outrage of witnessing destruction of paradise, “…well, you know, who really cares if the earth dies, anyway?” “I mean, you know, if the entire human population were to vanish in this instant, so what?”  On a spiritual level, does it matter if the earth exists? Not really, right? We are all each faced with our own mortality, the inevitability of our own death, and until we can make true and utter peace with that, who are we to feel responsibility for all of humanity? How conceited and egocentric!?  

[And on and on entertaining discursive thought goes, benefiting nothing but egocentricity.]

But what if I were to reproduce? Can I look my child in the eye, knowing I am sending them into a burning building, and tell them I felt not a shred of responsibility for doing that to them? Even though reproduction would contribute to the overpopulation that stresses the land, the air and the water—maybe it would force me to confront, or perhaps to CURE this most pernicious apathy? Sounds like a long shot.

So I ask you, oh great people of the internet, what can we do about this?
Please, tell me.

References

Doucette, K. (2009). AN OCEAN OF PLASTIC. Rolling Stone, (1090),
          54-57.

Pearce, F. (2012). 15 MORE YEARS TO SAVE THE CLIMATE... but
          Arctic sea ice may already have passed a tipping point. New
           Scientist, 213(2858), 10-11.

The L Train Story

Beth, My dear friend told me how much she enjoyed what is now known as "The L train Story," which she encouraged me to share with others.

The L train Story

One morning, a little over a year ago, at a certain Bedford avenue apartment in Brooklyn, NY lay a sleeping student who was enrolled in an advanced etching class that took place at an early 9:00 on Friday mornings. Now, this student didn't have the prerequisite needed to take the class, but the caring, generous professor decided to let her stay anyway. This fateful morning was still very early in the semester, perhaps the second or third week. Mind you, this professor was not only very strict, (three "lates" meant failure) but also very beautiful and accompanied by a lovely European accent.

Anyway, here is the rest of the story told by this very student.

Consciousness just begins to dawn on my sleep-ridden mind while starring at the clock, and as I finally grasp the meaning behind the numbers I see, the lightning surge of panic shoots me out of bed into clothes and out the door as fast as possible. 

Luckily, I only live across the street from the train. As I flurry down into the tunnel, I am slowed by an enormous crowd of hipsters all waiting for their beloved L train. 

I am going to be late. Very late. All I can think about is how screwed I am and I am really pissed off. I mean really pissed off. The kind of anger combined with self-hatred that makes me literally want to beat myself up. I remember thinking, "God! How could you do this?! You are so irresponsible! I can't believe this is going to suck oh my god what an idiot you're just awwwwwwwee picture his face!...so early in the semester..." and on and on.. 

So, I'm freaking out for awhile just bouncing between these negative thoughts. Then something jumped out at me. It was like déja-vu. I knew that this had happened to me before. The same self-deprecating negative emotions came about from the exact same causes before. And in that moment I realized that I had been in this situation before, and everything had turned back to normal. Everything turned out okay. I realized that in a little while, I would forget all about my anger, frustration, and regret and return to my happy, normal self.

In writing, it sounds so obvious, but in reality, in practice sometimes this is so hard to remember.

and just so you know, I dropped the class anyway, and it ultimately didn't matter a fig.

The Goldfish

So I was on the F train in Brooklyn and I happen to notice a family across from me. 

 A mother is watching her two two children closely; there is one older child and a younger one in a stroller.    The older child is holding a small plastic rectangle filled with water and a goldfish.  Now the older one is admiring the goldfish, treading water in its cage which evidently fills the younger child with desire and frustration--jealousy perhaps because he starts to cry and beg to hold it and though the mother tries to persuade him to calm down, it seems useless. The younger child proceeds to get more and more worked up, crying and yelling, begging to hold the goldfish in his lap.

 This goes on for a while, with the natural ebb and flow of conflict, however, the noise is unbearable and after a long struggle, finally (probably out of consideration for the other public transit riders) the mother gives in and instructs the older child to let the younger brother hold the fish. When the boy finally gets it in his hands, he smiled, which quickly and yet smoothly transitioned into a forced smile. There was an incredibly detailed facial expression that conveyed not only the inevitable look of disappointment, but also the added embarrassment for and masking of the disappointment itself.  

Now what is the difference between looking at a fish three feet from oneself as opposed to in one's hands? Sure, one may be able to see the fish from above, or close-up. The child was not that interested in this, he evidently wanted to have the fish. And when the cold plastic settled itself into his lap, it was really obvious that it really wasn't the extraordinary experience that this boy thought it would be. He quickly realized there was no added satisfaction to be gained once the tank was in his hands.  And boy, did he feel stupid.  

We as adults may think we are beyond this nonsense, and some of us might be, but most of us aren't. We think we must have things to make us happy. We want to hold and touch and see the pretty people, places and things around us. We want to hold them in our laps. Don't we? It seems we have gotten so good at masking the disappointment that we have eliminated the embarrassment that follows. 

 Horseback riding looks amazing, and it is certainly fun, but sitting on a horse is much different than it looks. The glamour is gone.  I was sitting on a patio at a restaurant somewhere between Bruge and Bruxelles, with my sister and a lover, eating mussels and watching a fabulous sunset over the ocean and we saw people riding horses on the beach, along the edge of the tide. I commented on how much fun it looked like and my friend Nader said, "Smells better than it tastes." That phrase really stuck with me. So true. He taught me so much with that simple sentence. I know what it is like to ride a horse. I know what its like to walk down a beach. Well, I put two and two together and really imagined what it would actually be like to be those people we saw ride by. Certainly it wouldn't feel as fabulous as it looks.

The same goes for touching and tasting too..  the mussels and the Belgian beer we were tasting, yes great but gone so quickly. Okay the mussels taste good, but how many can one eat until one is full? Then one has to wait   for awhile until one eats again.  It is okay to enjoy the mussels, but we shouldn't rely on them or expect them to make us happy. We should try to remain calm and think things through their logical progression before we get upset about not having something.  When I try to think of the truly enjoyable, really fun experiences in life, they all involve connecting with others. Building relationships that enable sharing and raw feedback exchange. This is what counts. The other stuff is just a distraction from making those connections.