As many of you know, I recently campaigned and raised over seven hundred dollars to help send me to Miami, Florida to attend what soon became a life-changing event. I’m infinitely grateful to those who supported this venture. On September 28, 29 and 30, I and over 1,100 other people from 87 different countries learned from and were inspired by outstanding panelists, expert scientists, the Climate Reality Project team, and of course, former Vice President, Mr. Al Gore. I returned in the wee hours of the morning on October 1. Back to Denver. Goodbye humidity, hello elevation. And ever since then, this girl – this writer – has felt rather short of words. How to describe this experience? What words could possibly convey the true sense of overwhelming urgency, the immediate need for action, the sadness and despair, the loss, and yet………… the prevailing hope? I guess those are words, sure. But they’re just not good enough! Describing this must be like trying to describe the unconditional love a mother has for her new baby; like conveying the beauty of a most majestic sunset to a blind man; like the magic of a first kiss. Indescribable. Here’s what I can tell you though. The science and facts of climate change are undeniable; the evidence is clear and our earth is warming. The changes to our home are unprecedented – quite scary at times. And we got to this point because a lot of people (myself included) want to go far, go fast, do more, and do more with less of our own energy input. Enter: Fossil fuels. These compressed beds of ancient life coupled with the incredible ingenuity and innovation of the human mind have allowed us to travel far and wide, and not to mention, travel fast! Planes, trains, and automobiles, yo! So not only can we go places faster, we get to see places that have been constructed and manipulated to perfectly capitulate this human dynasty; we see concrete cities where one millionaire mogul trumps the next by erecting yet another high rise building. So we did this fossil fuel thing for over a hundred years. And we do it today. And remarkably, in less than two centuries, our human "ingenuity" has changed our world more than any other species to every walk, swim, fly or squirm the earth.
Earlier I mentioned two factors relating to how we got into this sticky situation: (1) the ingenuity of the human mind and (2) fossil fuels. But I’d like to add one more important factor. And this is called anthropocentrism. This is the belief that human beings are pretty much the bee’s freaking knees, man! In other words, it's the believe that we are the most important species on the planet. But the idea that we can use, abuse and trash this earth – our home – without the slightest sense that this home is equally gifted to millions of other species is………… pretty ridiculous! It's absurd! And damn selfish. Genesis 6:19, “Keep them alive with thee.”
Many of us are 'lucky' enough to live in cushy-comfortable middle to upper class bubbles that keep us from feeling climate change in a real way. If you are one, know this. I walk passed you on the street. I read your Facebook posts. I meet you at parties. I’ve known you for years. Some of you I call you my coworkers, my friends, my family. And it is you – yes YOU – whom I urge to get informed. Because, GUYS!! Education is key in this. Education. Is. Vital! And better yet, information is power. And when you combine that information with people working together there’s just no telling what we can do! The time is now. It is time for each of you and our leaders to pledge to keep our home healthy so that life can exist on it. If I were to be brutally honest, the time is not now—it was years ago. But! As they say (especially as my family likes to say), tis better late than never. Here’s one thing you can do right now. Add your voice. Please add your voice to a growing list of people from all over the world who are demanding their leaders sign a strong agreement this December in Paris. We need our world leaders to commit to curbing climate change in real ways at the 21st United Nations Conference of Parties (COP-21). Please. Take a moment, and add your voice. And, hey! If nothing else, your voice provides figurative medicine to this girl’s writer’s block ;-) Thank you!! Thank you! Thank you.
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I tell myself, “Be thankful, Vanessa. Be thankful. Remember how lucky you are. Remember.” *** humina huminaaaaah ** BUT IT’S SO DAMN HARD!!! AAARRRRRGGGGG!
Why be thankful? How be thankful?? Rejection note after rejection letter, followed by complete non-responses… all the while submitting myself to this ultimately horribly not-good-for-the-self-esteem, personally draining and draining of all personal relationships process? Why or how should I placate myself with these thoughts?! Well, I guess…
Wow. Let’s take a pause. That seems like a lot of “haves”. Must it always boil down to the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’?? What about, I am?! Let’s think about this...
What else? I am so horribly wracked with the knowledge of what we are doing to our home. So much so, that I am willing to go through this ridiculous process rather than vying for a seemingly, more obvious government job. And here’s another “am”. I am attending the Climate Reality Leadership Corps training this September (holy crap that’s like THIS month!!!) . On September 26, I head to Miami (yeah holy crapness -- that’s a city whose dwellers constitute an amazing amount of climate change deniers given the FACTS!!) And I am 60% of the way to my goal to getting there. (Apparently, some amazing, caring, loving people BELIVE IN ME!!! They've gotten me just 40% away from reaching a really important goal… all the way!!!) If you’d like to help push me into the 90th percentile, not only would that be awesome, it would feel awesome. The support from my friends, family and believers-in-me means the most – YOU are what makes my heart and perseverance surge on. Love. Yesterday, I woke up to something I found rather ridiculous. Allow me to explain the use of this word. Both streaming on National Public Radio, and shortly thereafter, the top story airing on an early morning Wall Street/Money/Market TV show (the bf rather enjoys the host, by the way; a balding white guy in his 40s or 50s who strikes me to be well read, savvy, a bit angry and… constipated) was this: Red. Scary. Squares. On the screen were dozens, maybe a couple hundred, red squares arranged in a matrix. One or two of the squares occasionally transitioned from red to green, but the majority of them were red. Very red. Blood red. This, of course, is the visual representation of the message I had gotten brief wind of on NPR. These squares were the equivalent of TYPING ALL IN CAPS!!! They were angry! They were finger-pointing! But… what do they mean? Well, apparently, yesterday, Monday August 24, 2015, marked one of the biggest and worst market crashes in…….. well, in quite a while. And the media loves it. You see, on this day, this thing in China called the Shanghai Composite fell 8.5%. Eight-point-five may not sound like a lot. But this drop turned out to be the biggest one-day loss since 2007. It’s notable. Additionally, this worst single day drop in a while happened to happen in the world’s second largest economy (some say the largest). That would be China, of course. If you don’t know what any of that really means, don’t feel bad. I didn’t. I did some reading and some talking, which can help. [But sometimes I wonder how much any of the ‘experts’ really understand either.] But guess what else y’all?! The China drop had a ripple effect. #Shocking. It’s going viral. Markets all over the world were affected, but of course, what was highlighted on NPR and oh-bald-dude’s show centered on, none other, us. That is the U S of A. Big time businesses on Wall Street recorded all kinds of heavy falls yesterday. And each major fall was represented by a red square. Guys, admittedly I’m scandalously skirting around some serious details here, both intentionally and not. Intentionally, because I don’t spend enough time intricately studying the market (stocks, bonds, futures, trades, derivatives, projections, profits, shares, etttttttceteraaaaaaa) to speak to it in any sort of educated sense. Not-so-intentionally, because, well, I’ve got a different point to make. Back to yesterday morning. As I readied myself for work on this otherwise run-of-the-mill Monday (both NPR and Money-Market-Guy chirping in the background), a thought popped into my head. And it was this: “WHAT the HELL???” I was overtaken by a perplexing thought. I was perplexed at how this creation of human kind [note: this is not a creation of Mother Nature, a higher power, the crazy lady next door, what-have-you…] our creation can even crash? If we are still alive and kicking, why is our prized and cherished creation……. crashing? Furthermore, how can fictional structures containing the idea of money trading back-and-forth [note: let us remember that money is yet another human creation] have such power over us? I mean, this hoopla has caused some serious panties to bunch up into tight, walled-up, balled-up, angry little knots!! As I bid good day to my love, and began my journey to work – these thoughts still flurrying around cerebrally – I actually began laughing …………… out loud. I was overtaken with how utterly ridiculous it all is! Oh the devastation of the economic slowdown! The horror that our constant pursuit for intensifying global economic growth may halt! Oh the struggles and pangs! Oh how will we ever survive?! And then, the immediate world around me began to reveal itself. As if the city of Denver were disrobing, I began seeing with a fresh pair of eyes all the many more ridiculous dramas that happen every single day – some of which I participate in – on a micro scale. How about going into a job, day-in and day-out, every week, 50 weeks a year, where you’re working for ‘the man’? Where you’re pushing buttons and filling orders, and meanwhile, your brain (and your butt) is turning to mush? Is that not ridiculous? And for what? So you can make the car payments on your depreciating asset in the form of a 2012 Audi [not my vehicle by the way]? So you can drive your single occupied vehicle in a mad rush to get to work only to enter a troupe of thousands, millions of others SOV drivers engaging in the same act, at an average speed of 20 mph? Each actor, of course, is just steaming behind the steering wheel, wishing ill will upon the person driving the vehicle in front. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Break. Accelerate. Break. Buses and bicycles easily pass. But for what? To keep up with the Jones? To buy that condo with the walk-in closet and fitness center? Isn’t this all………………………. just a little ridiculous? Dare I say, isn’t it all related to one, simple word: Greed? I’ll tell you what’s not ridiculous, though. Taking an extra 15 minutes to lie in bed in the morning to snuggle with your boo, even if it means you’ll be a little late. Allowing a person to merge in front of you with a smile, and being rewarded with a friendly and thankful wave. Big belly laughs. Laughing loudly! Crying when you feel sad. Following your GUT. Chasing your DREAM. Living LIFE. FEELING ALIVE! Or maybe just… belting out your embarrassingly favorite song in your car on your way to work. #PrinceWhenDovesCry So now that my inspirational morning has been sufficiently shared (I hope), I’d like to add a small caveat here. In no way does this blog intend to reduce or diminish the potential damages – real life damages – that do sometimes result from these economic crashes, especially in regard to folks of lower socioeconomic statuses. After all, just like with the effects of climate change, it tends to be the lowest rungs of society who are least prepared, therefore suffer the worst. And again, I ask, for what? For the pursuit of money—err—happiness? And there, again, lies that little, but oh-so-caustic word: “greed”. I encourage you all to do some disrobing of society in your own unique lives. I believe it to be so very important. I bid you all good night. Just 500 days ago I was in a very, very different place. I had been online dating – with two semi-serious relationships in between – for about six years, off and on. Six. Years. And y’all, I dated. I went on Lots. Of. Dates!! I likened this behavior/lifestyle to a much less sexual, but equally entertaining and cosmopolitan life of one of the main characters of Sex and the City (me being Carrie, of course, in case that wasn’t already obvious).
Why did I do this? Honestly, [and this is really honest] for a long time this pattern was perfect for my needs; it kept me feeling desired, pretty, interesting, engaging, intelligent and important. And, hello! Most definitely, I was kept wildly entertained (as were many of my girlfriends who were lucky enough to be lavishly banqueted with the first date tales [particularly juicy, were those that went horribly wrong]). But most importantly, this style of living maintained a sense of security. You see, by dating one or two (or sometimes three) guys at a time – and never feeling personally attached – allowed me to retain full control of me: my body, my feelings and my vulnerabilities. I never had to truly open up, because no one was ever that close. I never had to risk the possibility of getting hurt, because my heart was never that open. It’s just basic economics: minimal investment, minimal loss. This lifestyle of dating spiraled into such a tailspin, though, that after so many ‘eh’ and ‘horribly-bad-but-good-for-my-girlfriends’-entertainment’ dates, well I was beginning to lose it! Like………. ENOUGH is enough!!! I wasn’t ‘losin’ it’ in a cerebral way. I was losing patience; losing my ability to passively witness – and be a part of – this rather yucky, very often inappropriate, and sometimes scary behavior involved in modern day dating. Note: I’m not just talking about online; what I’m talking about is rampant in various methods and mediums of ‘courting’ these days. I was also frustrated! Where had the chivalry gone? What happened to really dating? What happened to dating to get to know another person, rather than achieve some immediate physical gratification? I wanted more. And I deserved more. And if that wasn’t achievable, just being me was good enough. In fact, it was great! So I began transitioning away from the online platform. During the transition, I had developed a folder on my computer desktop. This folder was titled (get this!!!): “Douchebags of the Sea”. [I’ll give you one guess, by the way, which online dating site I used]. In this folder were dozens and dozens of images. These were images… of… well, I guess the title speaks for itself. [Excuse me while I giggle at this behavior! I’m actually having some difficulty typing… hahaha] I won’t post any of these pictures [at this very moment], but I will let my readers use the best of their imaginations. Think: Selfie of a guy flexing his oiled arm in the reflection of his own car window… during the day. Also: A floor-up picture of a shirtless man whose pants are so low the viewer is shocked to see three inches of his underwear (WHO he got to take this picture, by the way, is beyond me…). Oh and this was a good one: Guy in a power suit and tie… with his head cut out of the picture!!! *Sigh* Some day, I may choose to do something more with this folder of phenomenal goodies. But for now, I’m taking the more mature route ;) Readers. You need a climax. Don’t worry. I got one for ya. So I was ready to be done. I was ready to press the ‘Cancel’ button on my online profile. But before I did this – just days before – something in me decided to send one last message to… one last man. I expected nothing of it, to be honest. The message was sent in an almost rote or robotic way. But this man responded. And his response was nothing like I had ever read before. This man got to know a bit about me, and before too long, he asked me on a date (100% of which he planned). He picked me up. [Note: Standard protocol when online dating dictates that both parties arrive separately to a public place, and the female often carries a full bottle of mace. But for some reason – there’s that some reason again – I guess, well, I guess I felt I could trust him.] He opened doors for me. He engaged me in lively and real conversation. He was clearly in awe of me (though never inappropriately). Well, I’ll just say it: He swept me away. And at the end of the evening, he opened my car door, walked me to my apartment door………… and gave me a small, closed-mouth peck! ‘THAT’S IT??’ I thought! But that wasn’t it. Today marks the 502nd day I’ve been so fortunate to share with this same man. And he still opens all my doors. Wishing a very special happy birthday to my guy. There’s no way – no way – I could have gotten any luckier! And I leave you all with this. Remember, there are a lot of ways to safeguard our hearts from being smashed. And there is a veritable schmorgesborg of maintaining control of one’s life. But, aren’t our lives meant to be lived? And, aren’t our hearts meant to love? “So we shall let the reader answer this question for himself: who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?” ― Hunter S. Thompson Just last week, I was going to write about… well, frankly, it was going to be a whole lot of ‘Woe is me’ bullshit. [It’s my shit, by the way, so can call it whatever I want, including “bull”!] But seriously! I drafted a solid start to this blog! The intro went a bit like this: Why is that whenever I am just about to think or say the words, “Gee, it’s been a while. I think I’m due for some new inspiration to write”…. then BOOM! It hits me! There it comes; something exceptionally shitty comes right along in my life?”
So earlier this week, I was reeling from the aftermath of destroying my chances of having a second interview with a pretty cool organization. [I earned that second interview, by the way. I also, subsequently, lost it… just a few days before it was scheduled to happen.] As you can perhaps imagine, there were some accompanying emotions. That said, right about the moment I was ready to enter the sad, unproductive, black hole of, “This just isn’t right. This just isn’t FAIR!”… Boom! [Recognize the ‘boom’?] This lost opportunity left a very ugly-icky-dark feeling with me. It was a bad place. And, trust me, there were a lot of thoughts that were geared-up and ready to be channeled into some high-powered, amped-up inspiration for me to write! Alas, I did not complete the ‘Boom/Woe-Is-Me’ (with a dash of fire and gusto) blog. Why? Well, because Life got in the way. Friccin LIFE, man! Just like Mother Nature does on occasion, earlier this week, Life provided one of its best reality checks. And it did so in one of its best ways. [You know, the way that makes you want to PUNCH it right in its stupid, annoying, mocking, life face?!?!?!] Last week, I was informed that my friend has a 10cm tumor surrounding his colon. This is my friend Steve. Steve is married to a most amazing, kind, generous person named Chris. Steve and Chris received the numbing news just hours after the U.S. Supreme Court declared that same sex marriage is officially legal in all states. So on this day, the day we celebrated them – their finally dignified marriage, their love, and the basic right to love – my friend was informed that his time to rejoice might actually be… quite…………… limited. No one deserves to be inflicted with diseases like cancer. But it strikes me as so horribly unfair when a person – a good person – is dealt more than his fair share of tough cards in such a short lifetime. And then, then you’ve got the reverse! What sense can be made when there are also people who make such incredibly screwed up decisions – and hurt so many others along the way? And then, some of these people seem to get so many second chances at making amends!! In these cases, I must ask, where is the justice? I don’t know if there’s some sort of master puppeteer or dictator who’s got this all pre-planned and this thing called “life” is being executed exactly according to said plan. But if I did, I would very much like to have a chat with him or her. I don’t know what happens after our bodies shrivel up and get old; or after we take in that last breath of air, after our hearts stop, after our bodily functions cease, and after our brains terminate. I don’t know. But I do know something. I know that there is an unstoppable and impenetrable drive in me to try to do good things. Some may call this morality. Regardless of the title, I also know that when I do good things, I feel amazing! But, please, don’t get me wrong. I am not perfect. I. Make Mistakes. Lost of ‘em! And I am not 100% altruistic with my life decisions. A far cry. But this little bit of knowledge I hold – despite all the unknowns – provides me with, at the very least, a sense of direction. And also………. a sense of………….. peace. Even when shit seems to hit the proverbial fan (like with Steve and Chris, or even with my own personal drama du jour), we do have a powerful tool in our toolbox. We can do anything in our power to love and support them. If you choose to show that love and support, for goodness sake, go forth! And if you’d like to help Steve in a financial sense, here’s the way. [p.s. What’s bizarrely weird (I learned) is when you help them, it’s actually YOU who will feel SO GOOD. Regardless of the actual outcome. And, sadly, the ultimate, ultimate outcome is not up to any of us. But most inspiringly, this is a reminder that even when shit SUCKS, we actually do have some control. We do! So the moral of this story? I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s goes a bit like this: Remember what’s important in life. For me, that means giving proper nutrition, rest, challenge and exercise to provide to my body with endurance and strength. Rejoice others’ successes, and provide support and logic behind the losses. Remember what this short time on earth really means (regardless of what happens, or what one believes will happen afterwards). Spend more time loving and less time judging. Find forgiveness, even when it seems impossible. Possess a desire to do ALL of this with ultimate kindness, care, intellect, curiosity, love, generosity and humor. Every day is a challenge to keeping in line with these personal “tenants”. Yes, every day. But I know (guys…. I. KNOW.) it is right. At least for me. Special love goes out, tonight, to my mom. Special SPECIAL thanks goes out to the ability to have such independent thoughts. Happy fourth! ~V On a beautiful, sunny, warm day in Denver, I lay atop a beach towel, which lies atop a hearty, thick, green grass. Surrounding me on all sides are purple and white clovers; hundreds, perhaps thousands, of clovers. And buzzing among all these clovers…are BEES! Pollen-drunk, yet oh-so-hard-at-work HONEY BEES! I’m in a state of amazement and awe. Who tells the bees to furiously buzz from clover to clover? What motivates them to nestle their cute, pointy little faces into each crevice of a clover? What keeps them so incredibly focused at work? Really! What?! Fast forward to today. How incredibly serendipitous this singular experience has become. You see, just today, I learned that this week, June 15 through June 21, is National Pollinator Week! And, I’m kind of late to the game; the U.S. Senate unanimously approved this dedication 8 flippin' years ago! [Uh.. Rumpelstiltskin syndrome, Vanessa?] For environmentalists, activists for climate change awareness, farmers and beekeepers all around, it is no surprise that the sharp and steady decline of our pollinators is a serious and scary trend. Upon arriving to my office this Monday morning, still abuzz from Mother Nature’s gift the day prior, I found three seed packets meticulously fanned out upon my team’s revered candy box (yes, it is labeled as such). ‘What’s this?’ I ask. Why it’s Burpee’s Bee Garden of course! Apparently, in addition to the Senate’s Pollinator Week, last year, President Obama directed all federal agencies to help mitigate our nation’s food security problem by – none other – conserving the birds and the bees (and butterflies, bats, etc.)! The back of this seed packet is signed by Sally Jewell, the Secretary of the Interior, George Ball, Chairman and CEO of Burpee [hmm… I wonder what his stance is on GMOs…], and Thomas Vilsake, Secretary of Ag at the USDA. This is a donated package of seeds, which were specifically chosen to help our pollinators. Please excuse my shock while my brain wrestles with the thought that something I care for so deeply is also shared by the leaders that govern the U.S. economy. “Did you know that every third bite of food we eat is due to pollinators?” This is a question -- admittedly thought-provoking -- listed on the back of my Burpee’s Bee Garden seed packet. Slowly, things were beginning making a bit more sense. And then, suddenly, it HIT me!!! Think about it! Every third bite? Ok! One bite, two bites, three bites – thank you, Mister Big Ag! Four bites, five bikes, six bites – much obliged, Madame Monsanto. According to WhiteHouse.gov: “Insect pollination is integral to food security in the United States. Honey bees enable the production of at least 90 commercially grown crops in North America. Pollinators contribute more than 24 billion dollars to the United States economy.” So, hmm... we've got...
To me, all of this conjures up just one word: ugh. Veritably, there are many other sources that scoff at the ‘every third bite’ reference. In fact, it’s a rather humorously refuted by an analysis from the U.S.’s own Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), which concluded that just 8% of food produced in industrialized nations was attributed to animal pollination. Yeah, so, like...dude? What happened to 33.3%? Guys. Clarifying these statistics does not degrade the huge significance of pollination. The efforts – government or private – are notable. As EFFORTS, they ARE notable. The intentions, I think, are what I suspect. So, what then?! What’s the point of all this? How about we just take a moment, perhaps 50 minutes, to lay in the grass (don’t worry!!! You can have a towel between you and the grass [and all the grass dwellers, including spiders, ants, bees, things your eye can’t even see…]). But how about… lay there; be peaceful; breath in the air; observe the environment, the nature, the ecosystem, the lives that exist all around us. For they exist ALL the time. They have been and they continue to do things for our earth, for us, that (in the very LEAST) we ought to recognize. Let us regard with amazement. Let us say thanks. And some day -- SOME DAY -- we may be able to say sorry. That is all. I think. For now ;) Hare are some other resources I perused to gather some thoughts and data referenced in the blog: Yeah that’s right. Par-taaay! A big ol’ PITY party. Yesss. This party has everything! Face-squirming sobs. Napping in contorted, fetus-like positions. Brief moments of cursing the world and all of its false hopes. Lions. Tigers. Bears. (Oh my!) [***Reader: For maximum appreciation, it is highly recommended you watch a few SNL Weekend Updates with Stefon.]
Bonus! This party also includes alcohol, popcorn and an ABC Family or Lifetime movie that is guaranteed to invoke a profuse amount of crying. [Note: during a normal state of mind, said movie typically causes an audible “Ugh,” followed by a swift and absolute channel change.] Invites sent: 1. Number of confirmed attendees: 1. #hmph Ohhh kayyy. So, why all wallowing? Well guys, I just received notice that I did not get a job. This is a job I dedicated several hours and days toward crafting both the application material, AND a detailed project they subsequently requested in order to narrow the applicant pool from over 100 to just 15. And guess what? I was offered an interview! I made it to the top four!! Alas, I didn’t get the job. #CRUSHED. And to boot, I really really wanted the job. And I know I’d be great at it. As per typical Vanessa protocol, in less than 24 hours of receiving this unfortunate news, I’ve already gone through several stages of emotion. The first stage, of course, is the “Woe, is me” pity party. But I’ve departed from that. I’m now in the “Lemons/Lemonade” stage. [Between these, of course, you’ll also find the “Screw those guys; they don’t even KNOW!” and the “Jam-out-to-loud-music-and-workout-until-I’m-too-exhausted-and-sleepy-to-care” stages). So, lemons? Rejection is never fun, nor easy (especially for a particularly perfectionist gal such as me). But it is never ever a reason to stop doing what is most important to you, nor to stop searching for a way to do it even better. There’s a quote from a pretty cool guy that seems fitting here. Maybe you’ve heard it? “I’ve failed over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed” - Michael Jordan. But, hold on. Wait a minute, Mister Jordan! You are a hero! You are an All-Star! You’ve gone down in history in the history of basketball players! When you talk about your failures here, you’re doing that in retrospect; from the perspective of an outrageously successful pro ball player!! So there’s a bit of a difference. The average person is not going to reach such success and fame for what they know and love. I’m certainly glad people can find inspiration from these kinds of quotes. In fact, very recently, while spending a small but cherished morning with my dad, I also learned that the book of proverbs can be used to serve a similar purpose. Here, people will selectively pluck out a proverb for their daily inspiration, moral lesson, or even bumper sticker. Snippets of hope. Morsels of morality. Words of wisdom. But there’s a difference between taking a few inspirational words and clumping them together from, well, from where I stand today. Don’t get me wrong, I once found comfort in these sorts of quotes and proverbs too. But now… now it’s different. The difference? I can’t speak for everyone. But the difference with me is that I’ve got THINGS to do. I don’t have time to wallow (beyond 24-hours, that is) in self-pity! The earth is overpopulated; it is infested. Our climate is shifting. Dramatically. The time we’ve got is not a lot. So I must remember my own ‘pillars of faith’ as I journey my way into a career of environmental sustainability:
And this is what pushes me forward. In the words of a very wise and very dear friend of mine, “Yeah, not getting something that you know you'd be amazing for really feels like caca... [but] you are doing everything in your power to change your situation and that in itself is AMAZING.” Thank you, Miss Lisa Carol Farwell, my best friend since first grade, my comrade and compatriot who knows me inside and out, and my All-Star heroine (by the way, she, too, is doing everything in her power to change her situation). p.s. I have another interview for another great organization next week. Stay tuned. Oh starry night. How pained, swirly, ferocious and frightening… yet beautiful, charming and dazzled with life you are. May twenty-seven, two-thousand-fifteen. Guys, today is my little brother’s birthday! And I made and sent him a card. [Yes, I made it! No I’m not twelve!! But I’ll admit, I am stubbornly opposed to paying upwards of $4-$8 for a thick piece of construction paper with someone else’s words, made from the earth’s limited and precious materials, and only to be distributed to hundreds, thousands, millions (?) of random people! And will they even get it? Like……. not get it, but get it?!?] Ok. Back on track. When my brother was born, he was just a wee four-pounds-something-ounces. And he had fuzzy, red, beautiful hair ALL over his body! He was a teeny-tiny human-monkey!!! And oh my! He was sooooooo so so so so cute! By the way, my sister and I were both over a decade older than him when he was born; so clearly (obviously), he became our real-life doll. But now all that red hair has moved to his beard. My ‘little’ brother is 22-years old today, and… He. Has. A. Beard!!! What is happening?! Today, (despite the ridiculousness regarding the card) there is a great distance between my brother and me – a great deal more than the physical miles between Colorado and Minnesota. It’s my deliberation, but not my choice. I made the conviction, and in the name of love and health, I will stick with it. This is a horrible place to be – for the both of us I’m sure. And my brother may hate me forever. But the hope is, one day, he will love and respect me more. Hope. I hope the anger and blame subsides with the days, weeks, years and wisdom. I hope that instead of anger, peace fills those cracks and crevices. And I hope that the sense of peace feels so good that it starts to grow in him! And grow exponentially. And only goodness comes from peace. So I hope, one day, my brother stands before me as the man we raised and love (and, by then, maybe trust, respect, and adore!). The card I made for my brother has an image of Van Gogh’s Starry Night on its front. I’m not very poetic. But I’m good at research. After choosing this very particular recycled card front among so many, I wondered why I was so drawn. According to one interpretation of the Van Goth masterpiece, even with the darkness of the night, it is still possible to see the light the windows of the houses. Brother, if you’re out there, even with the dark nights, I see your light. And your light will shine better than houses, better than skyscrapers, better than the SUN. Reader (if you’re out there. Anyone?), you ought to know the context of this blog. It’s inevitably going to be different from the majority.
*Sigh* As I sip on my warm milk – still with the inability to sleep, now at 2:39 a.m. – a thought comes to my mind. And I think it’s…decently profound! Then again, it is 2:41 a.m. Hmph. Regardless, here's the thought: We………………………we are (us humans, that is)… we’re…………… kind of…………like………… the same. We’re the same! Right?! YEAH! I mean, sure! Sure, we have our nuances; some of us have black hair; some of us have blond; some of us have thin hair (aka me… thanks mom); some have thick (forever jealous of you sister!). But whatever! Thick/thin, curly/kinky, we’re still the same!! We all have these strange, gangly, awkward legs and arms and rotundus, soft middle parts that set us far apart from the rest of the animal kingdom. We walk upright (Me so tall). We manipulate our environment with tools (Me make fire). We plant sticks in the ground and proclaim it ours (Me discover LAND. Land = mine.). Yet… we can’t really scurry up a tree with the greatest of ease. Seriously, guys! Take a moment in a park and watch a dang squirrel. Even an ant!! Try to mimic their fluidity and ease as they navigate parts of the world we avoid with all cause. Humans have instincts, but most of them we ignore. Perhaps we ignore them out of social convention. And yet, we are SO good at forming the most ugly and despondent inequalities……… among ourselves!! Think: hot button keywords such as, ‘Baltimore’, ‘ISIS’, ‘Ferguson’, ‘Threat level’. Tell me these words do not conjure emotion. Anger. Unrest. Disbelief. Fear. Confusion. But they are nouns. Not verbs. In their truest literary sense, they hath no power. Yet you are affected just by reading them. I had the pleasure of meeting and working with a delightfully quirky young lady as of late who mentioned to me, in passing, the wobble. [If you’re not familiar, you must learn! It’s fun!] So, me being the typical Millennial, I immediately turned to YouTube. And. Found. This: https://youtu.be/0vVjP1YsCcc Watch now, read the rest after. Or read the rest of my conclusion and then watch. Just make sure you do both. Here’s my takeaway: I believe more of the world’s problems can be solved by replacing hate with love; fear with compassion; distrust with eagerness to learn; guns and security forces… with folks doing the flipping wobble! Or I’m just sleep deprived. ;-) Good night world, ~V, 2:54 a.m. NERD ALERT!!! This girl – whether she meets the goal religiously, or only as a fair-weather fan – tries to pick up at least one piece of trash every day. At my ‘Contractor by Day, Environmental Enthusiast by Life’ (nine-to-five) job, I take a long walk every day (substituted on the rare occasion of rain, snow, or below 30 degree weather). To be honest, “walk” really isn’t an accurate word; it’s more of a hefty, lung-intense hike up a bunch of mountainous hills, followed by a shin-splinting jog back down. Basically, my reasons for doing this are two-fold: 1.) exercise is awesome, and 2.) sitting at a desk for eight+ hours every day, five days a week is. Just. Plain. WRONG!! [If I ever had employees, by the way, (and a budget to pay them) I would not allow for them to sit and stare at a computer for longer than six hours. Mark my words.].
So the result is, I get to get to clear my mind (and refrain from getting snippy with the lovely coworkers), and engage my muscles that were forced into sedentary lethargy. But there’s an unintended consequence of this, too. You see, when I go out into the world, particularly the parts of the world that are heavily or over-populated by the humans, I find myself muttering incomprehensible (thank goodness!) utterances of disgust at some of the sights. Exhibit A: When I see trash littered all over our green spaces and streets. It’s appalling! I mean, come on! I know some of this happens by accident, but much of it is due to laziness and a gross lack of respect for our home, Mother Earth. So, yah, maybe me picking up ~one piece of trash every day as I return from my daily walk won’t compleeeetely curb Climate Change. ;-) But it’s something gosh darnit! And it’s something that makes me think: what if every able bodied individual on this EARTH did the same? What power we have in our masses! |
AuthorVanessa Ann, a writer and environmentalist. She possesses a Master of Applied Science in Environmental Policy & Management from the University of Denver. Her writing, at times, can be... a little sarcastic with just a dash of snarky. Archives
June 2019
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Vanessa is also a long-time contributing author (and former President) for the Sustainability Alliance of the University of Denver. Check out her published newsletters here: Some Say the Debate is Over. Yet the Heat Won’t Seem to Go Away, November 2016 Corn. It’s In Everything & It’s No Bueno for the Environment, February 2016 The Pursuit of Sustainability, August 2015 |
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