Cravings

Eating French double cream brie on my cracker followed by parmesan cheese imported from Italy sprinkled on my pasta, I am suddenly aware of the cost of the indulgent luxuries of my dinner. Not the cost to my wallet. These items are affordable, thanks to cheap fossil fuels that power the vehicles that bring them to me. It's the cost of being unconscious. Until recently I never paused a moment to think about where my food came from. Now I am slowly waking up. The impact of realization, when it strikes, often overwhelms me with guilt. I have become accustomed to luxury because it is available. My life has been privileged by virtue of living in the United States in the golden age of oil. I have been taught to consume, to use, to waste, to expect that there will always be plenty of everything.

Change is hard. Big change is very hard. What has to happen is big change. For me it happens one revelation at a time. Tonight the ah-ha was cheese. I was hungry for pasta, and I love parmesan on pasta. As I passed the brie I realized I was hungry for that, too. Yum. So I tossed them both in the cart and proceeded home to fix dinner. It wasn't until I had the two cheeses in front of me in the kitchen that I noticed...Italy...France. I envisioned the truck that picked up the cheese from the manufacturer and drove it to the airport, and the plane that flew it across the ocean to some central receiving location, and the truck that took it from there to the grocery store where it found its way into my cart. How much fuel did it require to satisfy my craving?

The good news is, I noticed. Now I can make a choice. Do I eat brie from France or do I seek local alternatives? Do I drive or do I bike. Do I send it down the disposal or do I compost? Do I grow food or simply consume it? The trick is to make the tough choices, the big changes, while they can still make a difference. There may not be a lot of time.