Bird by Bird October 2, 2007

David Sedaris often writes about his sister who is consumed with the needs of animals, sometimes to hilarious extremes. For instance, in one of his essays, Sedaris describes a time when his cheapskate father, sick with some kind of infection or other, decides to take his dog’s antibiotics rather than pay the extra expense of going to the doctor himself. His sister’s response: how is the dog going to get better if dad keeps taking his antibiotics?

I think my concern for the environment may be comparable to David Sedaris’ sister’s love of animals and animal rights. At heart, there is a simplicity to both of our pet issues. We just love trees, the earth, air, dogs. But I think there may be something else at play, at least for me. I feel a need to do something positive for the world, but I don’t know how! I need to start simple.

One of the mantras in the show “Heroes” is “Save the cheerleader, save the world.” The butterfly effect-ish, all things are inextricably connected implications of this line are part of its appeal. But more than that, saving the cheerleader seems like something that can be done. It’s broken down, it’s achievable, it’s just one girl. (by the way, I have not seen any of the second season yet)

Susan Orlean, in her fantastic book The Orchid Thief, comes to find in her analysis of John Laroche, that obsessions of any kind are linked to the need to distill the vastness of the universe into something manageable by the human mind. Orleans’ conclusion is that the obsessive is really someone so overwhelmed by the complexity of the world, the he decides to stick to just one thing.

When Jenni and I began this blog, one of my motivations was to simplify activism in a specific and personal way. I felt compelled to start slow because I’m constantly overwhelmed not only by the complexity of the world, but by all its imperfection, disharmony and hatred. But as we’ve continued, I’ve noticed that what was intended as a simplification process has in fact become a fanning out of related issues: capitalism’s inherent violence, consumerism out of control, generosity, peace.

When Jenni posted about the injustices going on in Burma, my first thought was, “I can’t deal with this! It’s too much!” But as Karen described (see post Sept. 4, Karen’s Earth Day) her eco-habit changes as a spiritual practice, I’m also trying to apply the same sense of deliberateness and peace to the Burma situation as I would to decreasing my carbon footprint—just taking it step by step. What can I do now? I can sign a petition, I can say a prayer, I can do one small thing at a time.

The elephant in the room September 14, 2007

When I was in second grade, we had to write a research paper on an animal of our choosing. We were to go to the children’s library and find all the books available about an animal and then answer various questions (e.g. what does your animal like to eat?) in the form of a series of sentences and paragraphs. I missed the boat on my top picks, koala and lion, and instead was given elephants. I had nothing against elephants, but I had nothing for elephants either. Not only that but there were only two books in the children’s library about elephants. I finished the research portion of my project within one reading period and felt listless and uninspired. I parlayed this information to my teacher who I’m sure was thinking, “Quit whining kid!” but instead said something that has stayed with me to this day, “Maybe you’ve just found everything there is on elephants.” Now even in my small seven years on the planet, I knew this had to be a mistake. And yet, I felt powerless to prove her otherwise. Where was I to find the treasure trove of elephant lore I now so greatly desired? Surely I had not cracked the ephemeral essence of elephant in these two books? I felt disappointed; like my laziness, lack of vision, and contentment with the status quo was making me miss out.

The tragic ending to this story is that I wound up writing a luke-warm paper on my two book fueled elephant information and have felt uneasy about the whole thing to this day, knowing I have done a disservice both to my own creative education and to the worldwide elephant population.

So here I am; in a sense in the same boat. I feel stuck in the world of environmental change. I’ve switched my light bulbs, starting using cloth bags, I’m unplugging my computer every night, have stopped using paper towels, have started using recycled toilet paper and now, I don’t know what to do. I have been completely sidetracked from the goal of making small, doable lifestyle changes and instead have been reading articles about high impact political activism and zero impact housing alternatives. The defeatist tone of my second grade teacher rings in my mind, “Maybe you’re doing everything you can do,” The part of me that knows this is false is itchy and uncomfortable by this thought. What I’m really worried about is the part of me that feels incompetent to make any more small changes and wants to give up will win out.

Can you help me?