Mother earth is bleeding. A gushing gash, I feel as if we humankind have stabbed our own mother in her back.
And we can’t staunch the flow.
In the halls of Washington vampires still want more blood, more money- they represent families and tribes with generations and generations of wealth to protect, Drill, baby, drill. Never mind the blood, dear.
I push the blame off of myself as I drive my car, look around our crowded streets, and feel as if we are all imprisoned in the guzzling of gas- the lifeblood of a post-modern, uber-busy, little boxes lifestyle. Using Oil is non-renewable and reprehensible. I feel responsible. I feel guilty. I feel trapped. The average person can’t afford to buy a Prius or fabulous hybrid. And in Fort Myers, the public transportation system serves only a public that can expect to arrive one hour early or late to wherever they need to go, taking 2-3 times longer than if having traveled in one’s own vehicle- if you have one. The bike paths are constructed for recreation, less for commuting. I have read (and shuddered) at plenty of squeaky-wheels in the ever-enlightening News-Press mailbag letters- to-the-editor, complaining about cyclists on the road as if they were criminal or deserved to be hit by cars for the idiocy of trying to get anywhere by bicycle.
But somehow I feel like I need to own this- obstacles aside. I feel like I am a 19th century new England coastal villager who invests in the rum trade. The whole town is in on it- the most un-cool Co-op that ever existed. Invested money goes toward the purchase of sugar, boats, crews, and…slaves. How many villagers in small towns like Bristol, Rhode Island, quietly tried to ignore the fact that Africans were being trapped and enslaved, shipped to Cuba from Ghana on behalf of their growing investment in the rum industry?
In the past 48 days I have been unable to ignore oily film of complicity coating my being. In the words of Lady Macbeth: Out damned spot!
I want to go clean birds and feel good about myself, the way many well-intended white people (example being me, for one) flock to anti-racism trainings simply to expunge themsleves from guilt but never change their behavior in day-to-day living. Frankly, I am scared to change my life into one that is independent of fossil fuels. I can’t live here in Florida without air-conditioning. I can’t not drive. I can’t bicycle everywhere when I am also supposed to look professional. I cannot cook over a fire- I love my new cooktop! I can’t walk anywhere in my cute, grown-up, “What Not to Wear” shoes.
But I have always been very all or nothing. People tell me I can take small steps- little changes. I can have a conversation with my life partner about how we can do better. I can think more on how to change my lifestyle while still doing the work I love. This is the best I can do for now. But is it true what Lady Macbeth says: “What’s done cannot be undone?”
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Rev. Allison,
Dear one, Your words on spot-on! Wow!! Powerful thoughts. I am with you. Send it to the newspaper.
So true… the suburbs are simply laid out to require a car. The closest “corner store” to my house is 4 miles away, my job about 8, plus I have to drive as part of my work. Having just come from New York City and enjoyed the ability to walk or take the subway everywhere, it is depressing to get back here and be locked into all this driving. It’s also very troubling how many plastic bags and how much needless plastic packaging I am unable to avoid consuming throughout the day. The best Megan and I have been able to do is reduce our home energy consumption as much as possible – we are down to $100 a month – and try to buy things second hand wherever possible. Unfortunately, this area is not windy enough to justify a private wind turbine, and household solar electric systems are prohibitively expensive – so we are left to rely upon the government to make the systemic change needed. It’s hard to see how we get there from here, but I guess we’ll have to settle for incremental progress as more of the public becomes aware of the excess consumption corprations have ingrained into our society.
Aric,
I think you and Megan would have really appreciated GA this year. Check out the Ware lecture when you have an hour, by Winona LaDuke, Minnesota native-American activist- she rocks
Y’all need to get to GA sometime.
Cheers
Allison