Tag: Renewable Energy

We Are Masters of Our Destiny

We Are Masters of Our Destiny

By |

Contrary to what corporations and governments want us to believe, we have the ability to change the world. How sad when we see ourselves as victims….to oil/gas prices, to toxic spills, to a degrading environment. Often I have heard friends say, “I’m only one person…I can’t make a difference, so why bother?”

We have the power to change the world by the choices we make. When we infuse our day with conscious choices, we are influencing the direction of life on our planet. Our choices add to uplifting of the world or its continued degradation.

Nobody ever promised it would be easy. If the mass consciousness is suffocated with fear and anxiety, it takes a strong will to see through this fog and choose a different way. Honestly, it’s much easier to follow the status quo; however, the only way to create change is to actually be the change we want. Taking personal responsibility for every decision, every choice, is a key to creating positive change.

So what will wake us from our collective sleep? What will shake us from the illusion that we cannot make a difference? Another oil spill, gas prices over $5 a gallon in the US? More cuts to programs that add to our civility so more war can be waged over oil in the Middle East? A growing economic gap in the US between the top 1% of wealth-holders and the rest of us? More oil companies (and coal companies…let’s not forget them) telling our government what to do and how high to jump?

WHAT WILL WAKE US FROM OUR SLUMBER?

Each of us has our own, personal tipping-point. Mine was the Gulf Oil Spill. I stayed intentionally and blissfully uninformed of many of the horrors surrounding me….environmental degradation, wars, worldwide population explosions….and on and on ad-naseum. I cared but I did not want to be too informed because of the pain it caused within my mind and heart. But then, BP created an environmental disaster that hit home, literally. And my wake-up call came April 20, 2010.

The past ten months have been difficult as I have witnessed, first-hand, oiled beaches and water, sick wildlife, dead wildlife, and far-too-few clean-up workers removing oil. And now, dolphins aborting their babies and dying in record numbers. The research I have done has only increased my struggles to deal with not only this disaster, but worldwide apathy to the plight of our beautiful planet. The only way I find inner peace and calm is to actively be part of the solution.

It takes ‘muscle’ to remain aware because it is painful to stay informed. Are we willing to work hard to stay awake, aware–conscious. The more of us that make that commitment, the greater our world will be. We are the creators of our destiny.

“What kind of world do you want? Think anything. Let’s start at the start. Build a masterpiece. Be careful what you wish for–History starts now.” Lyrics from “World” by Five for Fighting

Letting Go

Letting Go

By |

I realized today that I have been attached to people ‘getting’ the seriousness of the situation at the Gulf. Of understanding that all is NOT well there and the seafood is tainted with oil. I have invested a lot of energy into hoping…praying…that there would be an awakening that would positively affect not only the Gulf Coast, but the entire planet. The more I see attention-deficit mainstream media move on to other adreneline-pumping stories and leave the hard road of environmental and economic recovery of this area behind, the more stressed I become. Why? Because I have been attached to an outcome.

In my attachment, and the resulting anger that collectively people are just not getting it, I was missing the real reason for my monthly visits to the Gulf Coast–to minister to the wildlife and environment by telling the story. When I had that ‘ah-ha’ moment today, it felt like a weight lifted from my shoulders and I relaxed and refocused my attention–my INTENTION.

I let go today. I cannot force anyone to listen, pay attention, stop eating contaminated seafood, stop swimming in contaminated water or to slow down and really observe what is happening on the beaches, under the water, to the plants. By letting go I have more energy to devote to what I feel called to do: Document what I see, hear, smell, taste and feel when I am at the Gulf Coast. By telling the story, those willing to listen will have honest, truthful information.

Before the oil came ashore in Alabama, I made a promise to this Ghost Crab. After warning it to leave the beach and head for safer territory in the dunes, it helped me see that its loss of life could be a teaching–that all lives lost due to this disaster could be a teaching, a reminder, that our greed and misuse of resources is out of control. So in memory of this little teacher, I recommit to telling the story and let go of things and people I have no control over. Feels like a good step.

Diamonds in the Web

Diamonds in the Web

By |

I sit here in the shade of pine trees at Gator Lake and allow the breeze to cool me after the long hike through the refuge on the sandy trail. I hear the Gulf roaring across the lake as the drone of insects sounds in the surrounding marsh. Haze from salt spray, laden with particles of oil, blurs the tree line and I realize that even here, a half mile from the breaking waves, I am breathing air that carries molecules of benzene, hydrogen sulfide, toluene, xylene, and who knows what else from MC252 oil well.

What will be the long term effect on the marshes, the beaches, and ecosystems? What will be the consequences we cannot see from here but are lurking in the future? What happens to all of the workers who spent twelve hour days in 100 degree heat breathing contaminated air at its worst?

There are so many strands in the web of life, in these fragile ecosystems along the Gulf Coast. So many intricate aspects to such a rich gathering of life force in the Gulf, saltwater marshes, and inland habitats. If only one part of the living system was injured, the stronger parts could support it and nurture it back to health. Unfortunately, every part of this precious place is affected and the confounding thing is we simply have no idea how badly it is injured. Not yet anyway.

Take, for instance, the oil-soaked sea oats. Will the seeds grow after being coated in oil? The primary dune line, where the sea oats grow, is the first defense against storms. If sea oats do not reproduce due to the oily mist saturating them, what will become of the dune line? Not this year, but 3 years from now.

And what about the coquina shells that have been long-gone from many beaches since the spill? They are beginning to come back in some areas but what is the long-term effect of oil on their genetics? Will they be able to reproduce when constantly exposed to toxins found in crude oil? (And yes, the oil is still washing up, it’s still in the Gulf…weathered but present). We don’t know, do we?

There is suspicion that blue fin tuna’s reproduction may not have happened this summer due to the spill. The Gulf is where they migrate to breed. They were already in decline. What happens to them now? So many unanswered questions. So many unknowns. So maddening, this waiting. This prayerful waiting.

I sit here feeling the breeze kiss my sweaty face with all of these questions rumbling through my mind. What will this place look like five years from now? Will nature recover from this inundation of toxins? What species will survive and which ones won’t? I ask again, What will it take for humans to wake up, to remember our intimate connection to nature? To remember that what we do to nature ultimately determines our fate, especially the fate of our grandchildren. Will we, as a species, ever put aside our selfishness and grow into responsible adults?

My grief runs deep but it is not rooted on just the oil spill or the mining disasters all over the world or other human-generated catastrophies and assaults to the planet. The seed of my grief is the apathy and ignorance of one species–and I am a member of it.

Each of us is a diamond in the web of life. Each crab, every stingray, sea turtle, fish, bird, and plant are jewels in this sacred web. When one strand breaks, many suffer. We are diamonds in the web, let us shine with the light of awakening consciousness!

To a Jellyfish

To a Jellyfish

By |

You rear up as I approach. Your head, blue-purple, follows me as I walk. I stop and kneel on the sand and observe you, as you ‘observe’ me. Your tentacles are blackened with oil. You bend and twist, as I move, as if to dance in some ballet of consciousness with me.

I reach a finger toward you, to make contact. You move to meet my finger. You have no physical eyes like mammals yet somehow you can sense me. I wonder if the wind pushes you. Maybe my imagination has run away with me. So I move again. You follow me. So now, you have my full attention.

 

 

I open my hand, a gesture of friendship, an opening of my spirit to yours. We connect without words or even thoughts. We reach toward one another, trying to gain understanding. I let go of thinking, for a while, and we exist in a state of grace with each other.

Then I think: What if everything we believe to be true about sentience and consciousness is really false? Humans have arrogantly elevated ourselves above everything else. Gigantic brains or gigantic egos? We think our ability to use tools propels us forward…sure it does…into things like development, exploitation, pollution. Yet, I don’t see you, oh beautiful blue-ballooned one, spreading toxins into our environment or even into yours. In fact, I believe humans are the only species stupid enough to destroy the very environment in which they live.

I open my hand, a gesture of friendship, an opening of my spirit to yours. We connect without words or even thoughts. We reach toward one another, trying to gain understanding. I let go of thinking, for a while, and we exist in a state of grace with each other.

 

Then I think: What if everything we believe to be true about sentience and consciousness is really false? Humans have arrogantly elevated ourselves above everything else. Gigantic brains or gigantic egos? We think our ability to use tools propels us forward…sure it does…into things like development, exploitation, pollution. Yet, I don’t see you, oh beautiful blue-ballooned one, spreading toxins into our environment or even into yours. In fact, I believe humans are the only species stupid enough to destroy the very environment in which they live.

 

What if we have it backwards? What if we are the lesser species, dumb asses so stuck in our egos that we destroy the place that gives us life? How does that exhibit intelligence? The wharf crabs seem to be perfectly content living under the plastic bag (that we created) coming out occasionally to eat tasty morsels washed up from the bay waters. Uncomplicated life. Living in the moment. No need to rush to Walmart to pick up the latest gadget for entertainment. They have no need. Everything they need is provided.

 

 

 

The next time I see a Great Blue Heron hunting, without a fishing rod, GPS, or sonar fish finder, I will offer my apologies for ever thinking I was smarter than she. We are bent on making our species extinct by forgetting our connection to the land, by forgetting who we are.

It’s time to remember. It’s time to wake up.

The Moon–Another Resource to be Exploited?

The Moon–Another Resource to be Exploited?

By |

I saw a report on the news that NASA’s launch and intentional crash of two scientific, data-gathering rockets has yielded a surprise. The moon has large amount of frozen water in some of those lovely craters. The first thing they start thinking is this: We could harvest that water. Because of the high concentration of hydrogen sulfide it could be an amazing source of fuel…specifically, rocket fuel.

Have we not raped and pillaged our own planet enough? We have to spread the viral conquer-and-deplete practice to objects in outer space now? I sat in disbelief that given the recent events of environmental disasters–Gulf Oil Spill, Toxic Waste flooding a town in Hungary, Chile mining disaster, Ecuador mining disaster, China mining disaster to name a few of recent months–we have not changed the way we, as a collective, think.

What will it take for us to learn that we can appreciate and be grateful for resources without exploiting them, without even taking action to harvest anything? What will it take?