I have plans for this blog. Great, wonderful, sustainable, eco-friendly, creative, and wise plans. I’m sick as a parrot (and significantly sicker than a dog, or at least mine) at present, however, and I very much lack the energy to do any research, planning, or in-depth writing. I was feeling guilty for that, briefly, when I realised that I still hadn’t written out a statement of intent/mission statement for this blog yet. And, of course, what I absolutely do have the energy for is to sit by my fire place with a mug of hot lemon and honey for my poor scratchy throat (the honey, for the record, is local; the lemon, alas, is not), two dogs snoring on the floor (I believe dog #3 is downstairs, watching TV with Alpha/Brian), and a computer on my lap, and type out what I’ve been thinking about for a number of years now, and have recently decided that it’s important to dedicate much of my life to.
So, here we are, and it all started with a single sentence that popped into my head a number of years ago: there is something very, very wrong with the world.
I don’t mean that in the sense of morality; it must be said, there is something very morally wrong with the world, but I don’t believe that to be a new thing, and I don’t believe that to encompass the whole issue. Neither do I mean that religiously — again, perhaps that is the case, but I don’t feel that this is new — nor politically, nor clearly defined by any other institution. I’m not even sure what label to give it, but people — as a whole, I don’t mean to speak for every individual in the whole of creation — aren’t happy. People aren’t happy, and they aren’t connected to work or nature or each other or the environment or their pets. I think the world is overfilled with lonely people who don’t appreciate the things they have, where things come from, or the affect they have in the world. They aren’t a part of the world, they just take up space in it.
We need a connection to this world, I think. We came from this world, we live in this world, and we need to live with the world as well as simply taking up space in it to have appreciation of it, to make ourselves happy. I can picture my husband reading this later on, and rolling his eyes (presumably fondly; he knows who he married) and calling me a “dirty hippy”, and he’s probably right, but it still feels true to me. The sun gives us the same energy as it gives everything else in the world, we breathe the same air as the plants and other animals, and while we don’t have to obey the same rules of living as our dogs and the flowers in our gardens, we cannot pretend we’re separate from it all. We’re all here, amid the beauty and the muck and the starlight.
It’s not common anymore for a person to make his or her own bread, or to kill his or her own meat. There are a sad number of people in the first world who have never grown a fruit or a vegetable, who couldn’t tell the difference between a blade of grass and a chive, and who spray their lawns with chemicals to kill off the dandelions and then drive to the local grocery store to buy dandelion greens to put in a salad for a dinner party. Few people still know how to repair their own clothing, to knit their own scarves, or to clean their bathrooms with natural, non-toxic substances found in their kitchens. It’s silly. Mass production has made so many things available so cheaply that we’d rather throw things away than fix them, assuming that the only value those things have is the dollar value that the dollar store/department store/wherever has assigned them, never mind the other uses those items could have, never mind the environmental cost.
It. Drives. Me. Batty.
So, here I am. Trying to learn to live reasonably sustainably, trying to appreciate the things that society has taught us to not appreciate, trying to live cheaply and naturally and creatively. Hoping that others will join me in my struggle.
I don’t, incidentally, believe that we all need to live 100% locally; globalization has done much for us, and in limited doses I intend to take full advantage of that. But within reason. The white tea to which I’m currently addicted isn’t even a tiny bit local. Citrus fruit doesn’t grow well here; nor do bananas. I don’t see a need to do without *everything* that isn’t grown and/or produced within 50 kms or 100 kms or however many kms from where a person lives.
What I do believe, however, is that it’s ridiculous to buy eggs that have been shipped across the province when there are local farms that produce eggs in my area. My honey does not and should not come from another province or country. There is no reason why I can’t buy fresh, local produce in season and can it or freeze it for the future. Because I live in a house with a good sized property, there’s no reason I can’t grow my own herbs and vegetables. There is no good, sane reason why I need to toss out my socks if I find a small hole in one, nor is there any reason on earth why I would need to insist on new clothing when I can shop second hand (or, even better, get hand-me-downs!). A few hours and a ball or two of yarn can provide me with a perfectly serviceable (and, if I’m to be so bold, beautiful) scarf. Something bought at Dollarama can find a second life once it’s used up, rather than be tossed out simply because it only cost me a dollar. There’s no reason to buy icky chemicals to clean my bathroom when I already have baking soda, vinegar and lemon juice in the kitchen.
In other words, I plan to go about this both reasonably and seriously.
I’m learning to learn to appreciate things. To remember that we have seasons. To remember the smell of earth rather than of chemicals.
I’m here to learn to be happy, or perhaps to remember to be happy.
I hope you’ll join me.
