On Mon, Apr 3, 1995, Aspen wrote:
>Reading about your experience in Sedona brought up a lot of
>memories of just the few short years ago when I moved to >Flagstaff (1984)
>and first visited Sedona. It had its environmental >exploitation then,
>but definitely not to the point it has currently reached. It >pains me to
>remember it then and to have witnessed its continued >exploitation and
>destruction. I wish I could understand how people who claim >to love an
>area so can choose to destroy it just so they can live there. I >have no
>idea what to expect the next time I go there ... I can only hope >that the
>Mother's spirit tha tthey are exploiting will have somehow >reprimanded
>them for the over-population, over-consumption, and Her >exploitation. I
>don't hope for a catclysm, but I hop[e for reprimand. There >-have- been
>large, unusual floods the last two years in a row ....
>It seems that I'm experiencing pain everywhere I go these >days --
>why can't people see what a violent system we have in this >country and we
>are exporting to other countries. Teaching in an academic >setting I'm
>finding even painful because of the inherent violence we do to >students,
>appropriating knowledge and doling it out in the ways we >want to, and
>constantly judging their "performance". But yet I don't know >if I want
>to opt out and go to the land or gently fight back in whatever >ways I can
>from within (which doesn't seem like much). And the >clearcutting and
>exploitation and overpopulation and animal rights issues all >of course
>tie into this. I've subscribed to this conversation to get >support and
>feedback -- how do some of you out there feel about how to >work the
>system: fight, opt out, balance, what?
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I think it's hard to know what to do. I think many of us feel the pain all
around us every day -- the fact that we do is encouraging, if sad. At least
we notice, even if we feel powerless to do anything about it. I recently
left New York City and came to the Bay Area in what I hope will be a gradual
weaning away from urban life and return to a simpler way of living. For me,
it's a gradual process. I have always lived in cities, and it has only been
in the past five or six years that I began to feel their terrible
consequences. I used to love flying over Manhattan -- I'd look out at that
skyline and think how breathtaking it was, how there was nothing in the world
like that. Now it pains me to think of all of the land and natural habitat
that was destroyed in order to lay down that concrete and steel. I even feel
that way looking out over San Francisco today -- there are so many houses and
buildings just crammed together on these beautifull hillsides. It makes me
wonder sometimes when the Earth is just going to shrug her mighty shoulders
and brush them all away, like so much dandruff.
I probably haven't answered your questions, but for me, the solution to the
pain and the sense of being overwhelmed by social, political and ecological
problems, is what I call taking baby steps. I make personal decisions that
have local impact, and I try to achieve a sense of balance about the big
picture. I think about every single thing I buy -- how will its purchase
enhance or damage the environment? Am I supporting a community-based
business, or lining corporate coffers? Fortunately, unlike many people, I
can afford to pay the extra 10 cents or a dollar to support the organic
vegetable grower, the responsible cosmetics manufacturer, the environmentally
friendly laundry detergent. Together with other people who also have that
extra dollar, maybe we can increase product demand and bring the cost of
manufacturing down so that everyone can make the choice.
And I compost. I wasn't able to do that in Manhattan, and now I can see for
myself every single day just how much I'm NOT sending to a landfill. It's
mind-blowing, really. Between the composting and the recycling, my husband
and I produce less than a single bag of trash every week. My neighbors
produce three times that amount. If more of us were able to compost (often
difficult or even prohibited in urban areas), eventually, all these little
baby steps would amount to a slightly larger one, and then a bit bigger, and
so on.
I try to garden when I have time; I think about the freelance jobs I take and
how they will contribute (or not) to the whole health of the planet; I am
mindful of how my food choices affect sustainability. And when time permits,
I get involved in supporting local activists and demonstrations, write to my
political representatives and speak out whenever anyone will listen (or even
when they don't).
Perhaps this seems like a terribly elementary approach. But honestly, I
don't know what else to do. This list has helped me, because I realize that
there ARE other people out there who feel the pain, who are making
ecologically sound choices in their personal lives, and who aren't afraid to
talk about it. I live in a fairly progressive community, and yet, every day
I realize how much in the minority I am, even here.
As far as the reprimand goes, I think it's coming, and I think it's gonna be
a big one, not just for Sedona. I am optimistic, though, that enough of us
who care will be around to start the healing.
--Katharine English
