Reform, Revolt, Transformation (and Vitamin B12)

A tweet wafted past me the other day (I don't go checkin' out Twitter ... no time) and it really stuck out as profound, and maybe important. Here's what I saw: 

AntiReform ProRevolt @Anti_Reform Reform is designed to create an illusion of progress.

That reminded me of a discussion my hubby and I had had recently in our kitchen. In a (possibly B12 deficiency-induced) moment of guilt (did you know that about vitamin B12?), I was talking about something I haven't successfully shifted in my life. "Well, at least I'm further along than most people." 

Now, in the interests of not misquoting my beloved, I can't tell you exactly how he responded because I can't remember exactly what he said (I've since upped my B12 intake!). But it wasn't a pretty observation about our culture and it led to the following realization for me. We've been posing the wrong question all these years. We've been asking

What can I do? 

instead of 

How must I change?

"How must I change?" shows an understanding that transformation is necessary. It shows a willingness to make necessary sacrifices. It shows an appreciation that we're all implicated (it's not someone or something else that must change). 

A couple of weeks ago, I told you that "What can I do?" usually means "I'm not really interested in doing anything (because if I was, I would have done it by now)." "How must I change?" sounds like a sincere quest ... a call for a personal revolution that will snowball (ahem, a lot of those melting these days, eh?) into societal transformation. 

Reform has taken us nowhere but backwards. Revolt? My gosh, that's a toughie. So many human beings are too comfortable. So many other human beings are struggling every day of their lives. Where are those who will risk revolt or who can afford revolt? 

I suppose that's why I talk of rapid transformation to a zero-carbon economy, one that will be safer, cleaner, healthier, more equitable and more peaceful. Because who, who, who would not want that?

Have you heard of the 12-second transition? A prof at university talked about it. I remember experiencing it myself one morning when I threw open my dorm room window after pulling an all-nighter to complete a paper. The beautiful spring air wafted in and the pheasants down in the ravine behind our college started squawking their morning greeting. Instantly, I transformed from an armchair-hugging bookworm to someone who delights in the natural world and outdoor pursuits. It was virtually instantaneous.

If we can fall in love at first sight, become parents overnight, have an accident that changes everything in an instant ... then we know that rapid transformation is possible. For the sake of the children and future generations of all species, how must we change?

The War Song — A Compassion Tune-Up in Honour of Innocent Victims

A climate change blogging friend of mine is becoming more despondent at the tough news coming in daily. I responded to his grief recently by sharing that "as the news gets worse, I feel my fortitude strengthening. I think I'm soon going to start blasting &^%$#@*s as I meet them!"

Well, forget meeting them. I'm going to blast a whole bunch of them, right here and now, online. I am blasting every single person in the United States of America who just goes along with the stupid American culture of guns, violence and war without standing up and speaking out for what's right and good and what needs changing. (Same goes for stupid Canadian culture that's imitating stupid American culture.)

I think the lyrics (below) to this song are too nice to "people." War doesn't make people stupid (okay, yes, it does); stupid people make war. And as Culture Club sings: "Now we're fighting in our hearts" as well as in the streets. 

"Won't somebody help me?" (p.s. This song often disappears from the internet, so please let me know if it's not below.)

The War Song 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And love means nothing
In some strange quarters 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And I heard them banging
On hearts and fingers 

People fill the world
With narrow confidence
Like a child at birth
A man with no defense 

What's mine is my own
I won't give it to you
No matter what you say
No matter what you do 

Now we're fighting
In our hearts
Fighting in the street
Won't somebody help me? 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And love means nothing
In some strange quarters 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And I heard them banging
On hearts and fingers 

Man is far behind
In the search for something new
Like a Philistine
We're burning witches too 

This world of fate
Must be designed for you
It matters what you say
It matters what you do 

Now we're fighting
In our hearts
Fighting in the street
Won't somebody help me? 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And love means nothing
In some strange quarters 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And I heard them banging
On hearts and fingers 

After the bird has flown
He walked ten thousand
Miles back home
You can't do that to me, no
You can't do that to me
You can't do that to me, no
You can't do that to me 

In this heart of mine
I find a place for you
For black or white
For all the children, too 

Now we're fighting
In our hearts
Fighting in the street
Won't somebody help me? 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And love means nothing
In some strange quarters 

War war is stupid
And people are stupid
And I heard them banging
On hearts and fingers

And what, you might be asking, does this song have to do with climate change? Easy. It's all connected. The "greatest nation on Earth" is kept in a state of fear, at war, tranquilized by television, so that the Money Power — which includes the families and the corporations most invested in fossil fuels — can carry on without challenge.

So many innocent victims. May their families find some peace, somewhere, sometime, somehow.

Inspiration Versus Cynicism (Which One's Winning?)

Abandoned car in Toronto's flooding, July 2013

The last few weeks have been downright Biblical, haven't they? Killer wildfires. Persistent droughts. Flooding that took two major Canadian cities by surprise. The deadly wreck of an oil-transporting train in a small town in Quebec with a blast so big, it could be seen from space. Ireland is dealing with another potato crop failure after Europe's terrible winter. And, last but definitely not least given their importance, the pollinators (bees and butterflies) are missing from a friend's native flower garden.

Train explosion,
Lac Mégantic, Quebec

If a movie started like this, what the heck would the climax look like?

We're heading into it, folks. The climate change shit has begun to hit the fan. In local ways and global ways. In big ways and small ways. In frightening ways and imperceptible ways. Either way, it no longer feels far away. 

While I've been feeling fearful for the children and their future for many years (check out my early blog posts), I'm now starting to get a bit viscerally scared for myself and my family and community — a community that still doesn't understand the chaos that climate change will inflict on our food security. 

(For the same price, we could purchase a 200-acre farm or a 1.5 acre oceanfront property with chocolate lilies growing on it. Guess which one we're fundraising for? Next, we'll have a choice between buying that 200-acre farm or building a seniors home. Guess which one has captured the imagination of the mostly oldsters living in my community? For heaven's sake, they've already HAD their future! We truly are a culture that eats its children and grandchildren, to paraphrase Tom Brown, Jr.)

Anyway, all of this just to share some thoughts with you about inspiration versus cynicism. 

To start, I've been wondering how to stay "up" enough to not give up my work on behalf of the children. This video by John Marshall Roberts on the science of inspiration gives a clue or two:

Note the very last thing he shares: "Cynicism is undigested pain." So there's a clue, eh? Feel the pain, "digest" it, understand it, let it, um, pass through you. Let the pain come out the other end (to take the metaphor to its natural conclusion) not as cynicism but as resolve. 

How's this for inspiring? Not.

Then I read that fracking has dramatically increased the number of "manmade" earthquakes in North America. And then I read in the Guardian that climate scientist/hero James Hansen and colleagues have projected runaway global warming if we don't decarbonize. 

(By the way, for a good explanation of why Obama ≠ (does not equal) hope and optimism, check out The Obama Carbonized Climate Plan. His new "action" plan (ha!) encourages innovative new fossil fuel exploration and extraction ... old-fashioned devastation is not good enough for him. "Yes we can" lead the world to oblivion seems to be Obama's motto these days.)

It's like a seesaw, isn't it? Up then down, up then down. 

Then I saw something that really perked me up, because it suggests something that people CAN DO. (People often ask me, "What can I do?"* as though they really have no ideas of their own.) David Suzuki and Faisal Moola, writing in the Toronto Star following the fantastical rainfall and flooding of July 8th, suggested a strategy that can play out at several levels, from private homeowners to towns and cities and all institutions in between.

"So, knowing there will be dark, costly clouds on the horizon, how can we get ahead of the storm? One of the best strategies for dealing with severe weather events is to steal a page from Mother Nature’s playbook: bring nature home to the city through green, living infrastructure."

Yeah! That really resonated for me. Retrofitting yards and neighbourhoods and school playgrounds and city infrastructure will give us something to do to keep us from getting cynical while the climate change shit continues to hit the fan. But at least we'll be busy buffering ourselves from the worst of the increased natural disasters.

Suzuki and Moola explain that modern urban areas are almost entirely covered with impermeable concrete and asphalt. So when big storms and flooding surges hit, these cities (all built near water) are inundated (in more ways than one). 

"Nature doesn’t play this way. Natural ecosystems — like forests, fields, marshes and wetlands — are built to absorb rainfall and slow the flow of water as it passes through vegetation and soils and into waterways. Thus, incorporating natural systems into the built urban environment can effectively mitigate the intensity of storm surges. Interventions that bring together natural and built environments can range from large networks of interconnected green spaces to small-scale engineered systems, like green roofs, permeable pavement and green walls."

Indeed, one of Nature's most important gifts (or ecosystem services) is flood and erosion control. 

And lest you think this green retrofitting is pie-in-the-sky dreaming, check out Franke James's visual essay, Paradise Unpaved.

So, which is winning, inspiration or cynicism? It's rather like the weather in San Francisco. Wait 10 minutes and I'll have a different answer for you. 

* or some variation:
What can I do?
What can I do?
What can I do?
What can I do?
Usually this question, in any form, means "I'm not really interested in doing anything." Perhaps apathy is the greatest form of cynicism.

What Would Dr. Seuss Say About the Climate Change Emergency?

Back in January 2012, soon after the 2011 UN Climate Change Conference in Durban, South Africa, Grist asked "What would Dr. Seuss say about climate change?" (See Michelle Nijhuis's article here.)

Today, in the interests of lightness and love (there's so much sadness in the world right now that no one needs me ragging on about the state of the planet), I'd simply like to share my contribution to that conversation. (You might have to fiddle and twiddle a bit to get the Cat in the Hat rhythm going.) 

Enjoy!

I think the good doctor would have called for compassion!
Instead of our dithering, hand-wringing and dashin'
From meeting to meeting, from summit to COP
He would have decided to simply yell, Stop!
Start placing the needs of the children at centre
And remember, on Earth we are all just a renter.
Stop giving subsidy money to fossil fuel corps
Redirect it to renewables before it all warps.
Create a future that's safer, cleaner and brighter
And for the sake of your kids, be a climate change fighter.