The challenges our planet faces are three-pronged: decreasing supplies of fossil fuels, increasing temperatures, and overpopulation. As those three progress they bring with them a host of consequences that are mind-blowing. In my quest for enlightenment my path is also three-pronged: reading, writing, and yoga. I am currently reading, Hot, Flat, and Crowded, by Thomas Friedman, The Flooded Earth, by Peter Ward, and The Transition Handbook, by Rob Hopkins.
One of the concepts in the Friedman book presents a perspective that hadn't occurred to me. Simply put, the United States of America has enjoyed several decades of unprecedented growth, wealth, luxury, and power. We haven't been humble about it either, and other countries have loved us, hated us, and wanted to be us. Until recently the idea that any other country could "be us" was inconceivable. It's a different story now. China, India, and the Middle East are developing at astounding speed with little or no concern for 'going green.' As they race to duplicate the "American Dream" model in their own countries the stress on earth's resources, atmosphere, and economy grows exponentially.
This poses a bit of a moral dilemma. Would you want to be the American who steps in and says, "Oh, pardon me, ummm, it seems that we here in the U.S. have depleted much of the earth's natural resources. We will be needing whatever is left to sustain our superior lifestyle and our position as a global super-power. If you want to grow, you can't copy us or you will destroy any hope of sustainable life on earth."
How utterly presumptious, and yet, how utterly true. I find my mind racing around that one. It's the same out-of-control feeling I have when I awaken from a bad dream, heart pounding, still caught up in whatever nightmarish ordeal I wasn't surviving at the moment. After the nightmare I can slowly calm my fears as I tell myself, "It was just a dream...it was just a dream."
The real-life situation is tougher. As I immerse myself in the facts, the examples, and the numbers, the inevitability of the outcome looms large. Normally rock-solid, emotionally stable, mentally balanced I begin to sense a tilt. I know myself. If I continue to feed on the facts, examples, and numbers I will go into sensory overload and become apathetic. It's a defense mechanism that seems to be epidemic in our culture. So I slide my Raja Yoga DVD into the slot on the laptop. Guided by the soothing voice of Bidyut K. Bose (BK to those who know him) I bring my racing mind back to my own breath. Everything slows down. Shoulders relax. For 40 minutes I am mindful only of the present moment. I am right here, right now, grateful for this life.
Balance restored, I go to my blog and write. There are things I can do and there are things I cannot do. I can become informed. I can inform others. I can buy, eat, work, and play locally. I can grow some of my own food in one of many community gardens. I can consciously consume less of everything. I can buy organic produce to help support those in my area who have devoted themselves to growing and supplying clean food. I can work toward a closed loop lifestyle where I create no waste. And I can learn from my neighbors who have already been doing these things while I was oblivious.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The Price at the Pump
I used to drive a Mercedes ML430 SUV. I liked the fact that it was a quality vehicle and a workhorse, much, I thought, like me. It was functional and at the same time portrayed the appropriate image of a successful business person, supporting my ego appropriately. It was snowy white with tan leather interior and it slurped premium grade gasoline at an alarming rate.
For awhile it didn’t matter. Gas was cheap. I could fill up the tank for under $30. Then things started to shift. I remember the price of gas climbing, first creeping over $2/gallon, then $3. At that point, when the needle on my gauge approached empty my palms would get clammy. My gut would clench and my brow would prickle with tiny beads of sweat.
That was then. This morning I passed the gas station and noticed the price at the pump. My response was familiar, the faint nausea, the expected fear-clench of the gut. But today that response was triggered by a dramatic DROP in the price of gas. Today my reaction came from a different place. Today I have greater concerns than the impact of the price of gas on my pocketbook.
Falling gas prices indicate a culture oblivious to its precarious place in its own history. We are on the descending side of petroleum production. Let me say that again. We are on the DESCENDING SIDE OF PETROLEUM PRODUCTION. Simply put, the world's supply of oil is running out. Yet we continue to demand more, more, more...cheaper, cheaper, cheaper.
I find it deeply disturbing that the powerful entities we depend upon to protect our interests, (government of the people, by the people, for the people) are madly scrambling to scrape the remnants of incredible wealth from the earth. They are doing so with full knowledge of the consequences. The oil summits, the energy conferences, the sustainability briefings, point to the immediacy of the threat. But the warnings are falling on power hungry deaf ears. The government has a huge investment in keeping the capitalistic, consumer driven money machine grinding. For all we, "the people" know, it is business as usual. All is well.
It’s not that there isn’t a plan of sorts. According to the U. S. Energy Information Administration’s Annual Energy Outlook – 2011, our growing demand for oil will be “…offset by the increased use of biofuels (much of which are produced domestically), demand reductions resulting from the adoption of new vehicle fuel economy standards, and rising energy prices. Rising fuel prices also spur domestic energy production across all fuels—particularly, natural gas from plentiful shale gas resources—and temper the growth of energy imports.”
So basically, if I understand this correctly, we can rest assured that our lives will continue undisturbed. Biofuels and natural gas extracted from shale on our very own turf will save us. I wonder what we will eat if it becomes more lucrative for farmers to grow biofuel crops. As far as extracting natural gas from shale, in 2010, CBS aired an expose on 60 Minutes indicating that "the process for extracting natural gas from shale is a difficult and costly endeavor." And what is this about “demand reductions resulting from new vehicle fuel economy standards and rising energy prices”? To me that sounds like demand for oil will be reduced because only the wealthy will be able to afford to buy gas.
All that is alarming enough, but the Energy Outlook report goes on to say that in 2011 we will continue to rely on coal, another fossil fuel, as the largest source of electricity generation with no additional constraints on CO2 emissions. So what if the polar icecaps melt? So what if the temperature of the atmosphere exceeds the tipping point? We, the people, will be plugged in and turned on.
These days I drive my hybrid as little as possible. I intentionally plan trips to accomplish my errands in a small radius. I’m getting to know my neighbors and my neighborhood. I have a feeling in the days ahead we are going to need each other. And I watch the price of gas with different eyes.
For awhile it didn’t matter. Gas was cheap. I could fill up the tank for under $30. Then things started to shift. I remember the price of gas climbing, first creeping over $2/gallon, then $3. At that point, when the needle on my gauge approached empty my palms would get clammy. My gut would clench and my brow would prickle with tiny beads of sweat.
That was then. This morning I passed the gas station and noticed the price at the pump. My response was familiar, the faint nausea, the expected fear-clench of the gut. But today that response was triggered by a dramatic DROP in the price of gas. Today my reaction came from a different place. Today I have greater concerns than the impact of the price of gas on my pocketbook.
Falling gas prices indicate a culture oblivious to its precarious place in its own history. We are on the descending side of petroleum production. Let me say that again. We are on the DESCENDING SIDE OF PETROLEUM PRODUCTION. Simply put, the world's supply of oil is running out. Yet we continue to demand more, more, more...cheaper, cheaper, cheaper.
I find it deeply disturbing that the powerful entities we depend upon to protect our interests, (government of the people, by the people, for the people) are madly scrambling to scrape the remnants of incredible wealth from the earth. They are doing so with full knowledge of the consequences. The oil summits, the energy conferences, the sustainability briefings, point to the immediacy of the threat. But the warnings are falling on power hungry deaf ears. The government has a huge investment in keeping the capitalistic, consumer driven money machine grinding. For all we, "the people" know, it is business as usual. All is well.
It’s not that there isn’t a plan of sorts. According to the U. S. Energy Information Administration’s Annual Energy Outlook – 2011, our growing demand for oil will be “…offset by the increased use of biofuels (much of which are produced domestically), demand reductions resulting from the adoption of new vehicle fuel economy standards, and rising energy prices. Rising fuel prices also spur domestic energy production across all fuels—particularly, natural gas from plentiful shale gas resources—and temper the growth of energy imports.”
So basically, if I understand this correctly, we can rest assured that our lives will continue undisturbed. Biofuels and natural gas extracted from shale on our very own turf will save us. I wonder what we will eat if it becomes more lucrative for farmers to grow biofuel crops. As far as extracting natural gas from shale, in 2010, CBS aired an expose on 60 Minutes indicating that "the process for extracting natural gas from shale is a difficult and costly endeavor." And what is this about “demand reductions resulting from new vehicle fuel economy standards and rising energy prices”? To me that sounds like demand for oil will be reduced because only the wealthy will be able to afford to buy gas.
All that is alarming enough, but the Energy Outlook report goes on to say that in 2011 we will continue to rely on coal, another fossil fuel, as the largest source of electricity generation with no additional constraints on CO2 emissions. So what if the polar icecaps melt? So what if the temperature of the atmosphere exceeds the tipping point? We, the people, will be plugged in and turned on.
These days I drive my hybrid as little as possible. I intentionally plan trips to accomplish my errands in a small radius. I’m getting to know my neighbors and my neighborhood. I have a feeling in the days ahead we are going to need each other. And I watch the price of gas with different eyes.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Beyond the yellow brick road...
The eight acres where I grew up had three distinct landmarks: The Grove, The Meadow, and The River. The Grove was a lush stand of deciduous tree life sprung from a carpet of feathery fern fronds. We picnicked there. Treeless, The Meadow stretched over six acres of natural prairie grasses and wildflowers. In early spring native asparagus grew at its border. In summer the sweetness of wild strawberries lured us to comb its bounty for those juicy mouthfuls. The Mississippi River ran the length of the property line to the south. Like a living thing, its constant motion and ever-changing face thrilled us through childhood. Those places anchored us. The land supported us.
At first there was a small garden behind the house. As years passed it grew into an acre of raspberries, several beehives, and prolific apple trees. An enormous vegetable plot provided massive amounts of organic produce that we ate, canned, froze, and preserved for long winter months. Planting defined spring; canning defined fall.
In addition to the eight acres near town, we also had a 300 acre farm 30 miles away. When my friends were going with their families on summer vacations I was going with my family to The Farm. Haying defined summer. After weeks of mowing the hay, raking it into windrows, converting it into tight, 100 pound bales, and hoisting them from the field onto the hay wagon, our arms were strong and our faces were freckled and tan.
As the chill and long darkness of winter settled upon our acres, we rested. The pantry was stocked with row upon row of gleaming jars of honey gold, carrot orange, bean green, pickled beet burgundy, and apple red. Packed to the lid, the mammoth chest freezer housed raspberries, corn on the cob, venison (from The Farm,) and fish (from The River).
My family’s self-sufficient lifestyle was the norm for many not that long ago. Now I have about a week’s supply of food in the fridge. The grocery stores in my city could feed the population for about three days if suddenly the trucks stopped coming. I’ve heard it said that, as a culture, we are about 72 hours away from starvation.
Maybe for this generation, the twenty and thirty something’s, it is hard to picture a simpler life. All they have known is an oil dependent existence. Addictions are hard to break and we are addicted to the oil rich life. But I am here to tell you that there is another way. It is kinder, gentler, a way of being in the world that cooperates with the changing seasons, integrates life with earth and sky, and is sustainable. I’m thinking of the words from the Elton John song:
“So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road”
At first there was a small garden behind the house. As years passed it grew into an acre of raspberries, several beehives, and prolific apple trees. An enormous vegetable plot provided massive amounts of organic produce that we ate, canned, froze, and preserved for long winter months. Planting defined spring; canning defined fall.
In addition to the eight acres near town, we also had a 300 acre farm 30 miles away. When my friends were going with their families on summer vacations I was going with my family to The Farm. Haying defined summer. After weeks of mowing the hay, raking it into windrows, converting it into tight, 100 pound bales, and hoisting them from the field onto the hay wagon, our arms were strong and our faces were freckled and tan.
As the chill and long darkness of winter settled upon our acres, we rested. The pantry was stocked with row upon row of gleaming jars of honey gold, carrot orange, bean green, pickled beet burgundy, and apple red. Packed to the lid, the mammoth chest freezer housed raspberries, corn on the cob, venison (from The Farm,) and fish (from The River).
My family’s self-sufficient lifestyle was the norm for many not that long ago. Now I have about a week’s supply of food in the fridge. The grocery stores in my city could feed the population for about three days if suddenly the trucks stopped coming. I’ve heard it said that, as a culture, we are about 72 hours away from starvation.
Maybe for this generation, the twenty and thirty something’s, it is hard to picture a simpler life. All they have known is an oil dependent existence. Addictions are hard to break and we are addicted to the oil rich life. But I am here to tell you that there is another way. It is kinder, gentler, a way of being in the world that cooperates with the changing seasons, integrates life with earth and sky, and is sustainable. I’m thinking of the words from the Elton John song:
“So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road”
Sunday, May 22, 2011
CO2 and the myth
You know how it is when an idea begins to germinate in your head? At first it is prenatal, just a seed, small and undefined. Then as you turn your attention to it, imagining different possibilities, it begins to take on an identity. If it is a really good idea and the potential it holds is appealing, excitement builds and more and more energy is poured into the story around the idea. Over time the story becomes believable. You essentially begin to mentally occupy the scenario you have envisioned and take action to bring it about.
Driving today, shrouded in a voluminous cloud of deadly emissions spewing from the bus in front of me, I wondered what my city would look like without snarls of cars, trucks, and buses on the freeways. I imagined how quiet it would be...how clean the air would smell. I thought about people biking or walking and how friendly that would feel. So safe. Of course if we were all peddling or on foot we would have to live near our workplace. How convenient.
Tom Atlee of the Co-Intelligence Institute calls this an "alternative story field." What I began to imagine while I was driving behind the bus is a myth. It is a situation that doesn't exist here. But I started wanting it to. It represents a simpler, more leisurely and connected way of life. It feels more appealing than this frenetic existence we create for ourselves going compulsively fast, accomplishing unprecedented amounts of work, and consuming voraciously.
Is it possible to plant an idea seed that could generate enough excitement to effectively change the way we live? Rob Hopkins asked that question and found an answer. He tried his method in Totnes, England, and was so successful that in 2008 he published The Transition Handbook - From Oil
Dependency to Local Resilience, so other cities could follow his lead and begin their Energy Descent. The plan is brilliant in its simplicity. Basically he helps a town envision life without oil. Then the people in the town begin to tell stories about what that would look like. Pretty soon, given enough energy and attention, the stories they have fabricated feel more true and desireable than their current way of life and they begin to implement the changes they have envisioned.
Blasting people with gloom, doom, and destruction is not an effective motivator. Offering a carrot that is sweeter and more carroty than the alternative, however, seems to be highly motivational. As of Sept. 2010, because of Hopkins' Handbook, over 300 Transition Communities have come into existence world wide. As I scour the web for information I see there are Transition groups meeting in neighborhoods just blocks from me. It baffles me no end how I could not have heard of peak oil, permaculture, energy descent...! But the blank looks I get when I start to talk about these subjects confirms that I am not alone in my ignorance. The more I learn the more deeply rooted is my conviction that, in the scheme of things, there is nothing more urgently worthy of our attention than this.
Driving today, shrouded in a voluminous cloud of deadly emissions spewing from the bus in front of me, I wondered what my city would look like without snarls of cars, trucks, and buses on the freeways. I imagined how quiet it would be...how clean the air would smell. I thought about people biking or walking and how friendly that would feel. So safe. Of course if we were all peddling or on foot we would have to live near our workplace. How convenient.
Tom Atlee of the Co-Intelligence Institute calls this an "alternative story field." What I began to imagine while I was driving behind the bus is a myth. It is a situation that doesn't exist here. But I started wanting it to. It represents a simpler, more leisurely and connected way of life. It feels more appealing than this frenetic existence we create for ourselves going compulsively fast, accomplishing unprecedented amounts of work, and consuming voraciously.
Is it possible to plant an idea seed that could generate enough excitement to effectively change the way we live? Rob Hopkins asked that question and found an answer. He tried his method in Totnes, England, and was so successful that in 2008 he published The Transition Handbook - From Oil
Dependency to Local Resilience, so other cities could follow his lead and begin their Energy Descent. The plan is brilliant in its simplicity. Basically he helps a town envision life without oil. Then the people in the town begin to tell stories about what that would look like. Pretty soon, given enough energy and attention, the stories they have fabricated feel more true and desireable than their current way of life and they begin to implement the changes they have envisioned.
Blasting people with gloom, doom, and destruction is not an effective motivator. Offering a carrot that is sweeter and more carroty than the alternative, however, seems to be highly motivational. As of Sept. 2010, because of Hopkins' Handbook, over 300 Transition Communities have come into existence world wide. As I scour the web for information I see there are Transition groups meeting in neighborhoods just blocks from me. It baffles me no end how I could not have heard of peak oil, permaculture, energy descent...! But the blank looks I get when I start to talk about these subjects confirms that I am not alone in my ignorance. The more I learn the more deeply rooted is my conviction that, in the scheme of things, there is nothing more urgently worthy of our attention than this.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
We are the Privileged Ones
There are many places to go in the mind when considering the future. I think we all know on some level that change is the only constant. Look at the past 60 years! We went from black and white TV with two networks to…you fill in the blank. We went from ringing an operator who then connected us manually to our party (on a party line where 5 or 6 other families could pick up and listen in any time) to cell phones.
Think of the evolution of the cell phone from the monster device with pull-out antenna to the pocket portable machine of today that includes a calculator, address book, camera, internet, music, apps…! The first human to be propelled into space happened just 50 years ago. The first home computer introduced by Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak hit the marketplace 35 years ago. That computer was the first Apple and it cost $25.
What made this unprecedented progress possible? Cheap energy. When petroleum first became available, more was produced than needed. It was used for oil lamps and medicine but little else. Then in 1878 Karl Benz patented the first combustion engine which became the miracle machine that powered the automobile. Thirty years later, in 1908, Henry Ford designed the Model T which quickly became so popular that they sold faster than Ford could produce them. In 19 years Ford produced 15 million cars.
As of this moment, as I write this article, 19,430,360 cars have been produced already this year, with 4 more rolling off assembly lines worldwide every second. These statistics are available at www.worldmeters.info which also informs us that “…over 600,000,000 passenger cars travel the streets and roads of the world today.” It’s important to note that passenger cars make up only 87% of petro guzzling vehicles. The additional 13% adds another 78 million vehicles to that already staggering figure.
The automobile is a good example of what miracles cheap energy has wrought in our lives. But it is only one example. There are thousands of similar “leaps” in technology which, moment by moment, devour the liquid gold we are pumping out of the earth at an alarming rate.
What does this mean? It means that we are the privileged ones who have enjoyed the benefits of the blinding progress oil has afforded us over the past 60 years. It also means we are the ones responsible for ensuring “life after oil” for the next generations. Our mindset as we proceed is crucial. On this note Tom Atlee of the Co-Intelligence Institute writes:
“Whether I expect the best or the worst, my expectations interfere with my will to act.
I've started viewing both optimism and pessimism as spectator sports, as forms of disengagement masquerading as involvement. Both optimism and pessimism trick me into judging life and betting on the odds, rather than diving into life with my whole self, with my full co-creative energy. I think the emerging crises call us to transcend such false end-games like optimism and pessimism. I think they call us to act like a spiritually healthy person who has just learned they have heart disease: We can use each dire prognosis as a stimulant for reaching more deeply into life and co-creating positive change.
And so I've come to conclude that all the predictions -- both good and bad -- tell us absolutely nothing about what is possible. Trends and events only relate to what is probable. Probabilities are abstractions. Possibilities are the stuff of life, visions to act upon, doors to walk through. Pessimism and optimism are both distractions from living life fully.”
We have before us an unprecedented opportunity to creatively design a future for ourselves and our children’s children. We can be tremendously excited or immobilized by fear. We can employ the same creative genius that spawned the evolutionary leaps ahead of the past 60 years toward formulating plans for the new reality approaching. Or we can bury our heads in the sand and go about business as usual. For a little while longer we still have that choice.
Think of the evolution of the cell phone from the monster device with pull-out antenna to the pocket portable machine of today that includes a calculator, address book, camera, internet, music, apps…! The first human to be propelled into space happened just 50 years ago. The first home computer introduced by Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak hit the marketplace 35 years ago. That computer was the first Apple and it cost $25.
What made this unprecedented progress possible? Cheap energy. When petroleum first became available, more was produced than needed. It was used for oil lamps and medicine but little else. Then in 1878 Karl Benz patented the first combustion engine which became the miracle machine that powered the automobile. Thirty years later, in 1908, Henry Ford designed the Model T which quickly became so popular that they sold faster than Ford could produce them. In 19 years Ford produced 15 million cars.
As of this moment, as I write this article, 19,430,360 cars have been produced already this year, with 4 more rolling off assembly lines worldwide every second. These statistics are available at www.worldmeters.info which also informs us that “…over 600,000,000 passenger cars travel the streets and roads of the world today.” It’s important to note that passenger cars make up only 87% of petro guzzling vehicles. The additional 13% adds another 78 million vehicles to that already staggering figure.
The automobile is a good example of what miracles cheap energy has wrought in our lives. But it is only one example. There are thousands of similar “leaps” in technology which, moment by moment, devour the liquid gold we are pumping out of the earth at an alarming rate.
What does this mean? It means that we are the privileged ones who have enjoyed the benefits of the blinding progress oil has afforded us over the past 60 years. It also means we are the ones responsible for ensuring “life after oil” for the next generations. Our mindset as we proceed is crucial. On this note Tom Atlee of the Co-Intelligence Institute writes:
“Whether I expect the best or the worst, my expectations interfere with my will to act.
I've started viewing both optimism and pessimism as spectator sports, as forms of disengagement masquerading as involvement. Both optimism and pessimism trick me into judging life and betting on the odds, rather than diving into life with my whole self, with my full co-creative energy. I think the emerging crises call us to transcend such false end-games like optimism and pessimism. I think they call us to act like a spiritually healthy person who has just learned they have heart disease: We can use each dire prognosis as a stimulant for reaching more deeply into life and co-creating positive change.
And so I've come to conclude that all the predictions -- both good and bad -- tell us absolutely nothing about what is possible. Trends and events only relate to what is probable. Probabilities are abstractions. Possibilities are the stuff of life, visions to act upon, doors to walk through. Pessimism and optimism are both distractions from living life fully.”
We have before us an unprecedented opportunity to creatively design a future for ourselves and our children’s children. We can be tremendously excited or immobilized by fear. We can employ the same creative genius that spawned the evolutionary leaps ahead of the past 60 years toward formulating plans for the new reality approaching. Or we can bury our heads in the sand and go about business as usual. For a little while longer we still have that choice.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Grinding Coffee Beans
When I unpacked this time (what is this, my 37th move?!) I found an antique coffee grinder. I vaguely remember seeing it before but I don’t remember who owned it originally or why I have it. But the aesthetics appeal to me and it works well as a decorative piece in my 1900’s kitchen.
Fast forward a few months and a bag of Peets whole coffee beans landed in my possession. I opened the bag. Ahhh! The aroma! Intoxicating! Then the thought, “But I don’t have a coffee grinder….” The little wooden box with the grinding handle sprouting from the red cover fixed itself in my mind. "I wonder if it’s functional?” I took it from its position on the shelf and for the first time, explored the inner workings. I saw the grinding gears, found the metal lined drawer at the bottom, figured out where to put the beans. Pouring the cone-shaped cavity full of Peets, I set about grinding furiously!
It worked, of course. Those manual machines weren’t manufactured with “planned obsolescence.” They were built to last because that’s the way people thought back then. As I mentioned, I ground furiously trying to replicate the noise and speed of an electric coffee grinder, the only kind I have ever known. My mission accomplished, I enjoyed a pot of divinely rich, robust, flavorful joe.
The next morning I repeated the routine that felt more like a spiritual practice than simply “making coffee.” In the midst of the “grinding furiously” piece I realized my shoulders were tensed and I was holding my breath. Relaxing the shoulders, I took several deep, cleansing breaths and continued, more mindful of my body.
This morning, though, I changed my modus. I am not an electric coffee grinder, I realized. I don’t have to do it fast and loud. Not only can I relax my shoulders and breathe, I can slow this whole thing waaaaaay down. Slowly, deliberately, with deep appreciation for the ancient grinder and the beautiful, slightly oily beans, I prepared my coffee.
“What does this have to do with Peak Oil, or a changing planet?” you ask. In The Transition Handbook: From Oil Dependency to Local Resilience, Rob Hopkins outlines a plan for “energy descent.” In his words, “A society without access to fossil fuels would be able to do 70 to 100 times less work than one with them, and would, by necessity, look very different from the present.” And Charles Wyman of the University of California in an article for the New Scientist, writes, “ It’s always going to be difficult to come up with sustainable ways to support our unsustainable lifestyle.”
So I’m beginning to envision a future where I can accomplish 70 to 100 times less each day than I do right now. That looks to me like slowing waaaay down, right? And if nobody can produce more than that, the landscape of life as we know it will be unrecognizable. I’m thinking of scouring thrift stores and rural roadside antique shops for things like butter churns and maybe a spinning wheel. I’m getting a picture, not romanticized but down-to-earth practical, of a more self-sufficient existence.
And I’m finding I’m not alone. Now, everywhere I look I see change. In every empty lot in my neighborhood the earth is being worked into community garden plots.
People are organizing themselves into groups focusing on local food and energy production.
Permaculture classes are being taught at the university level. (Permaculture…there's another term I hadn’t heard until a few months ago.)
How could I not have known about this? The thrum of excitement is tangible here. There is no gloomy fear of impending doom. Instead there is focused action toward a simpler, more community based lifestyle. It seems a new culture is forming that offers a gentle descent from dependence upon our rapidly diminishing supplies of fossil fuel. If this is news to you, tell somebody. If you know more, tell me! Meanwhile, I’ll be slowly grinding my coffee beans.
Fast forward a few months and a bag of Peets whole coffee beans landed in my possession. I opened the bag. Ahhh! The aroma! Intoxicating! Then the thought, “But I don’t have a coffee grinder….” The little wooden box with the grinding handle sprouting from the red cover fixed itself in my mind. "I wonder if it’s functional?” I took it from its position on the shelf and for the first time, explored the inner workings. I saw the grinding gears, found the metal lined drawer at the bottom, figured out where to put the beans. Pouring the cone-shaped cavity full of Peets, I set about grinding furiously!
It worked, of course. Those manual machines weren’t manufactured with “planned obsolescence.” They were built to last because that’s the way people thought back then. As I mentioned, I ground furiously trying to replicate the noise and speed of an electric coffee grinder, the only kind I have ever known. My mission accomplished, I enjoyed a pot of divinely rich, robust, flavorful joe.
The next morning I repeated the routine that felt more like a spiritual practice than simply “making coffee.” In the midst of the “grinding furiously” piece I realized my shoulders were tensed and I was holding my breath. Relaxing the shoulders, I took several deep, cleansing breaths and continued, more mindful of my body.
This morning, though, I changed my modus. I am not an electric coffee grinder, I realized. I don’t have to do it fast and loud. Not only can I relax my shoulders and breathe, I can slow this whole thing waaaaaay down. Slowly, deliberately, with deep appreciation for the ancient grinder and the beautiful, slightly oily beans, I prepared my coffee.
“What does this have to do with Peak Oil, or a changing planet?” you ask. In The Transition Handbook: From Oil Dependency to Local Resilience, Rob Hopkins outlines a plan for “energy descent.” In his words, “A society without access to fossil fuels would be able to do 70 to 100 times less work than one with them, and would, by necessity, look very different from the present.” And Charles Wyman of the University of California in an article for the New Scientist, writes, “ It’s always going to be difficult to come up with sustainable ways to support our unsustainable lifestyle.”
So I’m beginning to envision a future where I can accomplish 70 to 100 times less each day than I do right now. That looks to me like slowing waaaay down, right? And if nobody can produce more than that, the landscape of life as we know it will be unrecognizable. I’m thinking of scouring thrift stores and rural roadside antique shops for things like butter churns and maybe a spinning wheel. I’m getting a picture, not romanticized but down-to-earth practical, of a more self-sufficient existence.
And I’m finding I’m not alone. Now, everywhere I look I see change. In every empty lot in my neighborhood the earth is being worked into community garden plots.
People are organizing themselves into groups focusing on local food and energy production.
Permaculture classes are being taught at the university level. (Permaculture…there's another term I hadn’t heard until a few months ago.)
How could I not have known about this? The thrum of excitement is tangible here. There is no gloomy fear of impending doom. Instead there is focused action toward a simpler, more community based lifestyle. It seems a new culture is forming that offers a gentle descent from dependence upon our rapidly diminishing supplies of fossil fuel. If this is news to you, tell somebody. If you know more, tell me! Meanwhile, I’ll be slowly grinding my coffee beans.
Friday, May 13, 2011
I had a taste...
Yesterday, and part of today, Blogger was down. I couldn't get into My Account or my Dashboard. I couldn't post. I occurs to me how that one little irritation is just a taste of what will begin to disappear from my life as oil supplies diminish. I was face to face with my impatience and frustration.
That was small stuff. As Eckhart Tolle says, "When survival is threatened by seemingly insurmountable problems, an individual human - or a species - will either die or become extinct or rise above their limitations with an evolutionary leap. This is the state of humanity now, and this is its challenge."
I vote for evolutionary leap. How about you?
It was at a performance in Berkeley, CA, that I first heard the poem, A Summer Day, by Mary Oliver. There was one line that burned itself into my heart: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” As the full meaning of that thought exploded in my mind, I experienced a sensation that I now recognize as a fight or flight response. My heart was pounding, my breath was shallow, and something in me knew that everything had changed. When knowing comes with that kind of physical response there is no way back. The truth cannot be un-learned. It has taken up residence in the body and a new course is set.
Tell me, what will you do? I think I'll look into that evolutionary leap.
That was small stuff. As Eckhart Tolle says, "When survival is threatened by seemingly insurmountable problems, an individual human - or a species - will either die or become extinct or rise above their limitations with an evolutionary leap. This is the state of humanity now, and this is its challenge."
I vote for evolutionary leap. How about you?
It was at a performance in Berkeley, CA, that I first heard the poem, A Summer Day, by Mary Oliver. There was one line that burned itself into my heart: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” As the full meaning of that thought exploded in my mind, I experienced a sensation that I now recognize as a fight or flight response. My heart was pounding, my breath was shallow, and something in me knew that everything had changed. When knowing comes with that kind of physical response there is no way back. The truth cannot be un-learned. It has taken up residence in the body and a new course is set.
Tell me, what will you do? I think I'll look into that evolutionary leap.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Peak oil...I didn't know...did you?
Here's what I learned this morning:
Remember Dick Cheney? Yes, the Dick Cheney who was VP under Bush and also the Chairman of the infamous Halliburton. It seems that in 1999, at the London Institute of Petroleum Autumn lunch, he made a speech. Evidently, Cheney was fully aware that the world's oil supply was being depleted at an alarming rate. In a key passage from his address he says: “That means by 2010 we will need on the order of an additional fifty million barrels a day.”
In 1999 Index Mundi indicates that 27,700,000 barrels of oil per day were consumed world wide. The U.S. Energy Information Administration shows that in 2010 that figure grew to 86,700,000 barrels per day. The world is consuming on the average of 9,000,000 more barrels a day than Cheney predicted we would need. Houston...we have a problem.
What strikes me as sad...no, let's say flagrantly negligent, is the fact that in 1999, Cheney, and the U.S. Government, KNEW that we would reach a point of peak oil consumption by the year 2010. Yet in those ensuing 12 years, what has been done to curb our voraciously expanding oil appetite? Not much, other than the fact that rising oil prices caused sales of the Toyota Prius to jump by 52% in March says Melissa Hinch-Ownby of Mother Nature Network.
Attached is a graph shown at the April 2009 Energy Conference in Washington, DC, by Glen Sweetnam, of the EIA (Energy Information Agency) illustrating the sobering reality of disappearing oil.
So how much time do we have? If we look at the right side of the graph 2030 is a grim picture. We are almost half way into 2011, one year AFTER peak oil, and there is no viable alternative energy plan in place. We are, in fact, more dependent than ever on oil to support our gluttonous lifestyle. "Global warming will never bring a "doomsday scenario" a team of scientists says -- because oil and gas are running out much faster than thought." The "team of scientists" is a group lead by ASPO President, Kjell Aleklett, Professor at Uppsala University of Nuclear Physics in Sweden. ASPO is the Association for the Study of Peak Oil & Gas. It is an informal network that can tell the truth freed of all the political, legalistic and commercial constraints that most organizations face.
Let's take a closer look at that quote: "Global warming will never bring a "doomsday scenario"...because oil and gas are running out much faster than thought." In other words, the depletion of oil will deal the death blow to human life so we don't have to worry about global warming. That's how I read it. Just about everything we need for survival is dependent upon oil: our heating systems, our cars, the transport of our food, the machines that prepare the fields and harvest our food, pesticides, preservatives, the production of electricity, the list is endless.
It appears that there is a huge task before us. In her 2011 predictions, Lindsay Curren, editor of Transition Voice tells us that a cultural shift is happening. Government and huge corporations are becoming less relevant. Rampant unemployment will soon force people to depend more upon one another and their communities. Bartering will re-emerge as a viable economic model. Community gardens and individual "yard gardens" will appear in neighborhoods. Living, as a matter of necessity, will become simpler and more localized.
This time the answers are not going to come from the government. I think this quote from Reading The Coca Leaves: Climate Change, Cancun And Bolivia by Medea Benjamin pretty much sums up that state of affairs: "If we are to avoid ecocide, we cannot rely on government officials meeting in plush golf resorts...."
From what I'm seeing we don't have a lot of time to make some pretty huge changes in the way we live. The way we live is going to change whether we do anything or not. Our resilience as we transition will depend upon the degree to which we have mentally, emotionally, and physically prepared to meet the coming challenges. We need to take off the blinders and lean into our lives with creativity and purpose.
Remember Dick Cheney? Yes, the Dick Cheney who was VP under Bush and also the Chairman of the infamous Halliburton. It seems that in 1999, at the London Institute of Petroleum Autumn lunch, he made a speech. Evidently, Cheney was fully aware that the world's oil supply was being depleted at an alarming rate. In a key passage from his address he says: “That means by 2010 we will need on the order of an additional fifty million barrels a day.”
In 1999 Index Mundi indicates that 27,700,000 barrels of oil per day were consumed world wide. The U.S. Energy Information Administration shows that in 2010 that figure grew to 86,700,000 barrels per day. The world is consuming on the average of 9,000,000 more barrels a day than Cheney predicted we would need. Houston...we have a problem.
What strikes me as sad...no, let's say flagrantly negligent, is the fact that in 1999, Cheney, and the U.S. Government, KNEW that we would reach a point of peak oil consumption by the year 2010. Yet in those ensuing 12 years, what has been done to curb our voraciously expanding oil appetite? Not much, other than the fact that rising oil prices caused sales of the Toyota Prius to jump by 52% in March says Melissa Hinch-Ownby of Mother Nature Network.
Attached is a graph shown at the April 2009 Energy Conference in Washington, DC, by Glen Sweetnam, of the EIA (Energy Information Agency) illustrating the sobering reality of disappearing oil.
So how much time do we have? If we look at the right side of the graph 2030 is a grim picture. We are almost half way into 2011, one year AFTER peak oil, and there is no viable alternative energy plan in place. We are, in fact, more dependent than ever on oil to support our gluttonous lifestyle. "Global warming will never bring a "doomsday scenario" a team of scientists says -- because oil and gas are running out much faster than thought." The "team of scientists" is a group lead by ASPO President, Kjell Aleklett, Professor at Uppsala University of Nuclear Physics in Sweden. ASPO is the Association for the Study of Peak Oil & Gas. It is an informal network that can tell the truth freed of all the political, legalistic and commercial constraints that most organizations face.
Let's take a closer look at that quote: "Global warming will never bring a "doomsday scenario"...because oil and gas are running out much faster than thought." In other words, the depletion of oil will deal the death blow to human life so we don't have to worry about global warming. That's how I read it. Just about everything we need for survival is dependent upon oil: our heating systems, our cars, the transport of our food, the machines that prepare the fields and harvest our food, pesticides, preservatives, the production of electricity, the list is endless.
It appears that there is a huge task before us. In her 2011 predictions, Lindsay Curren, editor of Transition Voice tells us that a cultural shift is happening. Government and huge corporations are becoming less relevant. Rampant unemployment will soon force people to depend more upon one another and their communities. Bartering will re-emerge as a viable economic model. Community gardens and individual "yard gardens" will appear in neighborhoods. Living, as a matter of necessity, will become simpler and more localized.
This time the answers are not going to come from the government. I think this quote from Reading The Coca Leaves: Climate Change, Cancun And Bolivia by Medea Benjamin pretty much sums up that state of affairs: "If we are to avoid ecocide, we cannot rely on government officials meeting in plush golf resorts...."
From what I'm seeing we don't have a lot of time to make some pretty huge changes in the way we live. The way we live is going to change whether we do anything or not. Our resilience as we transition will depend upon the degree to which we have mentally, emotionally, and physically prepared to meet the coming challenges. We need to take off the blinders and lean into our lives with creativity and purpose.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Embarking
The label says BoHo Chic. I am seriously drawn to the colors and the flowing shape. I pull it off the rack. At least I can carry it around for awhile and imagine what my life might be like if I dared to wear clothing like this.
My look is the buttoned-up, timeless classic Ralph Lauren type. I’ve patterned myself after those “put-together” women who never have a hair out of place; the lacquered doll look of perfection that I’ve gone for but never quite fully achieved. I’ve sought jobs with respectable titles and respectable salaries where I am expected to wear respectable clothes so I blend in, so I fit the mold.
The left side of my brain can handle that kind of job. My right brain tolerates it badly for about two years, then shuts down. I quit the job and immediately look for its identical twin and dive in for another two years. I’ve been doing that all my life.
So what is it about this garment with the label that screams Bohemian bad taste? Why am I so drawn to it’s “out of the box” colorful, creative flair? What would a life be like that could wear such fun, funky clothes?
Since my last birthday I’ve had an acute awareness of the tiny pebbles sifting through the wasp-waist middle of the hourglass. Each grain represents a moment of my life that I can never call back. Inside of me are unexplored places. There’s a wannabe redhead who writes protest songs and plays the guitar. She cares about the planet, global warming, and sustainable living. She doesn’t wear makeup unless she wants to, but she still shaves her legs. She will always shave her legs! She’s the one who loves this label I’m carrying around. She’s the one who would dare to wear it and live boldly. She’s my right brain.
What am I waiting for? What is so terrifying about living a right brain life? I don’t have forever. Already I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t be shopping for those saggy polyester pants with the elastic waists and shapeless shirts with pink and blue flowers. At my age, after all, I have a new peer group to blend into! But there’s something about “blending” that sticks in my throat. Blending makes right brain redhead’s skin crawl! “No more blending!” she howls and I know she’s right!
I look down at the BoHo Chic draped over my arm. It seems to embody the life I crave. “You’ll never wear it,” say’s left lobe. “Get a life!” says redheaded right. Well, it’s a start. I walk to check-out digging for my wallet. “Love the shirt!” says the clerk. “So do I,” I reply. “So do I.”
My look is the buttoned-up, timeless classic Ralph Lauren type. I’ve patterned myself after those “put-together” women who never have a hair out of place; the lacquered doll look of perfection that I’ve gone for but never quite fully achieved. I’ve sought jobs with respectable titles and respectable salaries where I am expected to wear respectable clothes so I blend in, so I fit the mold.
The left side of my brain can handle that kind of job. My right brain tolerates it badly for about two years, then shuts down. I quit the job and immediately look for its identical twin and dive in for another two years. I’ve been doing that all my life.
So what is it about this garment with the label that screams Bohemian bad taste? Why am I so drawn to it’s “out of the box” colorful, creative flair? What would a life be like that could wear such fun, funky clothes?
Since my last birthday I’ve had an acute awareness of the tiny pebbles sifting through the wasp-waist middle of the hourglass. Each grain represents a moment of my life that I can never call back. Inside of me are unexplored places. There’s a wannabe redhead who writes protest songs and plays the guitar. She cares about the planet, global warming, and sustainable living. She doesn’t wear makeup unless she wants to, but she still shaves her legs. She will always shave her legs! She’s the one who loves this label I’m carrying around. She’s the one who would dare to wear it and live boldly. She’s my right brain.
What am I waiting for? What is so terrifying about living a right brain life? I don’t have forever. Already I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t be shopping for those saggy polyester pants with the elastic waists and shapeless shirts with pink and blue flowers. At my age, after all, I have a new peer group to blend into! But there’s something about “blending” that sticks in my throat. Blending makes right brain redhead’s skin crawl! “No more blending!” she howls and I know she’s right!
I look down at the BoHo Chic draped over my arm. It seems to embody the life I crave. “You’ll never wear it,” say’s left lobe. “Get a life!” says redheaded right. Well, it’s a start. I walk to check-out digging for my wallet. “Love the shirt!” says the clerk. “So do I,” I reply. “So do I.”
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