There are three things that spur me to write: First, a crystalline thought, which seems to (finally) emerge from a long swirl through the depths of my psyche; second, Autumn (my intellectual season); third, travel. Today I have two things that I want to write about, or is it three? Five? I don't think I have to tell you what spurs me to not write, n'est pas? I need to go back, during this winter's rest, to record in full my amazing trip to Barcelona, where I did connect, in ways that have amplified my life, all for the good. I also want to write about San Francisco and Napa, where I will travel to this Saturday for a full week of total immersion in bliss.
In between these two trips, a lot has happened to me that is great, and a lot of things have happened in the world which aren't so great, or so surprising, but both have caused me to think deeply about what is sustainable. What is sustainable is a question I seem to be asking myself all the time, about my lifestyle, my relationships, my health, my career, my world, the contributions I make, the legacy I might leave. As I'm writing this I'm thinking about the world economic crisis, the fact that the world now has 7 Billion people and will likely have 15 Billion by 2100, and about how different my view is about all of these things from that of my father. He passed away 10 years ago last May, but he taught me to be a thinker and I still hear the echoes of his middle-aged awareness in my head as I encounter economic and politicial issues that are similar to those faced by his generation.
I dont' think things have changed much in the economic and political landscape. In the August 29, 2011 edition of The New Yorker, Jill Lepore (Dickens in Eden) excerpts from a letter Charles Dickens wrote to actor and fan William Macready, the following commentary which seems startlingly contemporary:
"Look at the exhausted Treausury; the paralzyed government; the unworthy representatives of a free people; the desperate contests between the North and the South [substitute the Left and the Right] the iron curb and brazen muzzle fastened upon every man who speaks his mind, even in that Republican Hall, to which Republican men are sent by a Repulbican people to speak Republican Truths--the stabbings, and shootings, and coarse and brutal threatenings exchanged between Senators under the very Senate's roof--the intrusion of the most pitiful, mean, malicious, creeping, crawling, sneaking party spirit into all transactions of life."
That was written in 1842. Really people, have we evolved at all? Perhaps not from a political pespective, but I would argue that we have when one considers things from a social perspective. By this I mean that unlike my father, who was a creature of his generation, I am thinking about all the people in the world, including those in the third world who are struggling to enter the global economy and whose potential is as important to many as is my own, or any other middle class American's. His generation, and maybe even some of the modern-day relics of his generation, proclaimed their realism while explaining that one had to make one's own way in the world, grab as much as you will need, secure it for future generations and so on, uncaring of the costs to others.
It's not that I don't recognize the practicality. At any given point in time there is is only so much food, or shelter, or clothing to go around; I've had to make do many a time in my life and will likely face reduced circumstances at some point after retirement. What's changed is that I don't think really think there are limits, except perhaps to our rate of adoption for new technology and new paradigms. I also don't think that innovation can happen in a stagnant society, which is one of the reasons why I believe that everyone's potential is important.
These are the among the thoughts I will take with me to California on this year's Splendidly Wonderful Journey. While I acknowledge the privelege I enjoy to make such a journey, I also go with the hope that I'll find some new inspiration and understanding about sustainability and how I can contribute, in some small measure, to ensuring there is enough to go around, for all the children I know, and their children, too.
