Sustainability Stolen?

My bike was stolen yesterday.  I love that bike.  I have not owned a bike for many years because my first bike was stolen in college.  This bike was a gift from my parents.  It was a beautiful, comfortable, and small bike for my small height.  Perhaps this is my punishment for not having rode it in a month.  Perhaps its Karma for moving, for feeling too happy, for being too self-involved the last year, for not finishing my thesis, for my privelage.

Can I really call this sustainability stolen?  One cannot speak of sustainability without speaking of social justice.  The inequities of the world that have created this enormous catastrophe we are in.  It's not the person who can't afford a car that was buying gas from BP after all.  In the more grand scheme of sustainability, our planet would have died long ago if everyone lived as I do.  And I live more simply than many others and less simply than most.  Privilege does not exist without oppression. 

Perhaps it's Karmic for also owning a car.  Right now I'd gladly rather have my car stolen than my bike.  Maybe then I would stop feeling guilty for owning a car and feeling guilty for not having taken more advantage of the person powered transportation that was at my finger, er, toe tips. 

It's pathetic to mourn the loss of an item.  Something that is replaceable.  However, in our over consumptive culture it's quite the norm.  My only consolation is that I hope the bike was stolen out of need.  That the person is either happily riding it or has sold it for money to buy basic necessities like food or clothing.

Patchwork Quilt

I love quilts.  Especially quilts that were handmade by grandmothers and great grandmothers in their quilting bee. They usually have wonderful stories woven in with the stitches and fabric scraps.  An entire quilt can be made from fabric that had a former life.  Warmth from repurposing.  Quilting is, in my opinion, one of the few heirloom skills that is more prevalent than many others because of the rich history it supplies.  I wish I knew how to make a quilt.  I wish I owned one.  But I do know how to make use of a quilt as a metaphor. 

Olympia is my favorite patchwork quilt.
Beautifully rich in hues, fall sugar maple orange, heirloom tomato red, eggplant purple, the obligatory evergreen green, golden honey yellow, and every shade that exists within this earthy spectrum.
Each swatch has it's own political and social history, the cloth is never new.
It is made of some of the most unusual fabric-local and imported.
It is ever changing and shifting akin to the threadlike tributaries that erode and shape a hillside--slowly and subtly working their way over time but faster after an arduous or unceasing rain.
The stitching hints at a community that is at once unbreakable, and vulnerable to snags, time, and seam rippers.

I am newly part of this quilt and yet my heart feels as though a piece of it has been stitched in forever.
I believe that is what it means to feel at home when you are not near to what you've always called home.
I guess our hearts can be stitched into many quilts.  Some we carry with us, others we leave where they should lay.
Which is both liberating and melancholy at the same time.

Back in Washington

I don't feel like putting together cohesive paragraphs at the moment so I'm going to make a list of things that have happened or thoughts I have had in the last few weeks...

I moved to Olympia, WA

I have a new roommate and a new dogmate and catmate

I spent time on two different farms on two different evenings both lovely but both reminders about how little I know about growing things.  I want to know it all and learn more!!

I herded a goat into a milking barn. I was very timid as the goat had horns.

I learned how to make mango sticky rice.

I joined the food coop and I feel really good every time I shop there.

I went to the farmer's market and bought organic cherries.  It's cherry season and they are better than candy!

I happily started back at my old job.

I am still working on my thesis and it is an extremely frustrating process.

I have been having weird dreams and even some nightmares every night which leads me to believe that I am actually feeling a lot of stress subconsciously.  This stress rarely presents itself during my waking hours.  But it's not unexpected as I just had an enormous amount of life change.

I have been very "I" focused this whole blog and this whole past year.  As soon as the thesis is done, that focus will be shifted to others.

I am happy to be back in the NW but miss my friends and family terribly.

The last nine months

I've been in Illinois for nine months and my time is almost up.  Just 23 days til I begin my half cross-country journey back to the Northwest.  It's time to reflect on the things I have learned here in Illinois. 

Springfield, IL surprised me this year.  There are people here who are committed to simplifying and changing the way we live.  People who work for non-profits promoting environmental stewardship, students who are no longer happy with the way we are treating our planet or our current system of government, and faculty who challenge students to rise up and be heard.  There's a growing local food movement fueled by the surprisingly wonderful farmer's market.  There are events like the Haymarket Festival, Political Art and the Public Sphere, the Environmental Film Festival, and Brew and View that bring together the community to engage and learn about issues affecting our planet. 

I am renewed with hope by the handful of people I keep seeing at these different events. I am renewed with purpose as I make my way back to a part of the country that is further ahead in the environmental movement than the midwest.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm making the right decision going back.  The NW has way more than a handful of activists committed to sustainability and radical politics.  Perhaps my skills would be better served in a place where there is much more work to do.  But I know it is time to go back.  To become part of the Olympia community (which I was not a part of before).  To bring my skills in leadership and social justice to my work.  I think I am called back to learn more so someday I may return here with a greater knowledge.  I have faith that the wonderful people I met this year will continue the fight and they will fight hard.  Someday I hope to come across these people again and they will have much to tell me about their progress in a most difficult system. 

I learned this year that being open to others creates an opennes in them.  This is something I have known for a while, but I got to practice it a lot more this year.  Some conservatives are surprised that I listen to them.  I even had one such friend tell me that my passion for sustainability is contagious.  I say to those that have different viewpoints than me...thank you for challenging me.  You help create stronger convictions for myself and reflect on why I feel and believe the things I do.  And thanks to those who also listened to me. 

I also learned that role modeling and education may very well be my best form of activism and direct action.  I may not be ready to get arrested for a cause.  Maybe I never will be it truly depends on how bad things get.  I still have a lot of hope for the future.  When people ask me why I do the things I do or live my life the way I live it, I get to educate them.  I get to plant a seed that will hopefully blossom into a revolution of the mind.  Multiple revolutions of the mind lead to revolutions of culture.  It may sound grandiose, or possibly even arrogant.  But I need to feel like I'm making a difference in order to keep hope.  This year, I have struggled with whether or not  role modeling and education were enough for me.  Right now they are and they have to be.  I'm not willing to lose a job I love over it.  I think there are ways to stand up for your beliefs, to advocate for others and our planet without getting into trouble.  I choose this route for now.  If it gets to the point where I can no longer live with what is happening, where freedoms are taken away, where there is only a shred of hope, then I will take further action.  I believe this day will come during my lifetime.  Probably when we run out of oil. When that happens I do believe life will be chaotic and the government will try to control us even more.  I don't want to live in a world where freedom exists only as a memory.  When that day comes, well, losing all hope is freedom.  Will I be ready for this?  Will you be ready for this?  It will take an enormous amount of courage to stand up.  Until then I'll keep fighting, and educating, and raising awareness with the hope that this day gets further and further into the future until it flashes forward into infinity.  I hope you will do the same.

Tiny houses made of ticky tacky

Lush hills roll by chattering streams. 
In the distance the mountains beckon.
Encouraging play.
Wild gardens give way to complex ecosystems and provide dinner.
A small solar panel powers an entire house.
A fire pit in the center of the room provides heat, smoke rises up through the hole in the ceiling.
Laying in bed looking at the stars through the skylight, while a lavender breeze swirls through the open windows.
The sounds of homemade music drifting around my mind.
Tiny houses, creating simple lives in a collective community. 
This is what I dream about. 

http://www.simondale.net/house/index.htm