Settling In

Andy and I have been talking about what we want to do to become more involved in the world. We're comfortable in our little corner, but I feel as though I've been taking a lot without giving much back. I know this is the standard model, but I don't want it for myself. I guess I'm thinking of my relationship with the world, and I want it to be conscientious and reciprocative on my part.

It has seemed, lately, that anything I want is available for the taking. Country roads, cities, transportation, disposable commodities. Commodities, particularly. I keep asking myself, "where did all of this come from?" And, of course, it's all been manufactured somewhere on earth from some combination of materials found on earth. And if all I give is a few dollars for whatever I want -- I'm paying a person, aren't I? I'm paying for labor, but I'm not reimbursing the original source, and I can't, directly, with paper currency. At this moment I'm surrounded by wood, sheet rock, paint, plaster, slate, glass. I'm sharing a room with a piano, a computer, dishes, tables, shelves of books, a bicycle, a dulcimer, a guitar, light bulbs. And I can't escape the underlying feeling that I'm living amidst stolen goods. Or, more kindly, as though I'm living amidst unreciprocated gifts. All of these items were acquired fairly according to our cultural guidelines. So, in the human realm, all is well.

Yet I must have taken advantage somewhere along the line, because how could I possibly have acquired all of these belongings for nothing more than dollars? I feel I owe something to the forest where this lumber was cut, and the quarries where this stone was mined. Is there any place on earth where communities are saying "look how comfortable we have made our lives, and how easily; let's reciprocate by planting some trees, cleaning up our waterways, respecting the cleanliness of the air, and behaving responsibly and conscientiously from here on out?" Instead, it seems the default behavior is to fail to recognize the true origins of our goods, and to return, instead of gifts and caring, landfills, oceanic islands of trash, and global pollution. If this relationship were modeled by two people, we would describe the relationship as appallingly abusive.

I don't wish to under-appreciate human creativity; I realize that when I buy a table, I am paying for craftsmanship. When I buy a computer, I am paying for ideas, components, and assembly. But it seems wrong to me that my return payment stops with the designers, manufacturers, and marketers. What do I owe the earth for a computer? What do I owe the earth for a house? What about food? What about water, and air?



I've been trying to imagine how I can most significantly contribute to the planet. Andy conceives of a distinction between behaving as a humanitarian and an environmentalist, and feels pressure to choose between disparate paths. I feel it's possible to fulfill both endeavors on the same path. My simplistic example to Andy, put irreverently, was to preach family planning worldwide and to encourage small, late families.

Many very easy lifestyle decisions can reduce our demands on the earth. In today's world, these are all decisions we're able to make for ourselves. By tomorrow's world, I hope these decisions will have become default behaviors. These are some major, fairly obvious, not terribly difficult, high-impact personal lifestyle decisions that stand out to me:

1. Diet -- preferring, local, vegetarian foods, and mostly abstaining from seafood. We'll be way healthier and require less health care and pharmaceuticals. We'll save energy by abstaining from meat, save fossil fuels by eating local foods, and save our planet's lungs by keeping the ocean alive. Local foods are often unpackaged and fresher, saving food from being wasted and packaging from going to the landfill.

2. Where we live and how we get around -- remodeling instead of building, and choosing to live in a place well located for self-sustenance or alternative transportation. Andy and I feel that if we choose to live so far in the country, we need to find ways to seriously reduce our fossil fuel dependency. I drive a grease car, but still spew particulate matter into the air. We've discussed renting a prius or something similar. We try to combine our errands and use our bicycles, but we have a lot of improvement to make. We both feel very nostalgic for our downtown lives in Corvallis, where we were far less dependent on vehicles.

3. Family -- let's move average childbearing age up a few years. Let's have three generations span a century rather than four. My grandmother was born in 1919; I probably won't wait until 2019 to start my family, but it might be close. Both my grandmother and my mother waited until they were around thirty to start families. And, yes, I've dreamed of having half a dozen or so kids. Instead of having a gazillion children to help me with farm labor, however, I think I'd rather just live next-door to my siblings and their kids; that way I'll just feel like I have fifteen kids, but they won't really be all mine.

4. Be healthy -- let's grow our own food and trade with our neighbors. Don't eat more than we need. Be physically active. Stay outside. Keep our kids outside. Stay healthy and keep our bodies strong so we can take care ourselves.

Andy and I are talking about ways we can participate on a larger scale, beyond our own personal decisions. Last year we volunteered with one of the local 5th-grade envirothon teams, and we're thinking of doing that again this school-year. It seems like a pretty small gesture of thanks to the planet, though. We also heard about a fellow in town who collects bicycles throughout the year and tunes them up to give to children for Christmas -- we're planning to help him with some of that mechanic work. But really, we keep saying, we'd like to actually bike around with the kids.

So much needs to be done, it's silly for us to waste our time trying to decide where to jump in. When we married last week, our vows included building a peaceful, compassionate home, and nurturing our family and fellow humanity. Now that we're contemplating our vows for next summer, when we'll be remarried in Pennsylvania, I feel we should include a mutual vow to share a simple, globally conscientious lifestyle.