Heavy Breakfast

There is a story in today's paper about a guy who goes by the name Suelo who graduated from the University of Colorado, lived in Boulder awhile, went off to the Peace Corps, and ultimately ended up living in Moab. What's unique about him is that he completely gave up money years ago. He won't even barter because it's a form of currency.

Unlike other "homeless" or "transients," he has a home - a cave in the desert. He bathes daily in a creek, is educated, peaceful, never asks for anything and never takes money from those who offer it. He has fundamental similarities to Christopher McCandless, the kid from the book Into the Wild who ended up dying in Alaska, and also to Everett Ruess, the kid who wandered the deserts of Utah in the 1930's and who disappeared without a trace. I've blogged about them before.

After I read Suelo's story, I found his blog. He keeps a blog right here on blogger, which he maintains through the free computers at the library. As I read more about him and even watched a short video documentary about him, it reminded me of my own fantasies about "living free" and traveling the west like a nomad, free of money and things. I can completely see the appeal. There is something very, very different about people like McCandless, Ruess and Suelo that set them apart from your average bum, but that isn't the topic of today's post.

Today I'm thinking about peoples' motivations. Not long ago I had a very intense discussion with my friend Scott from Austin about "green." I was basically pointing out all of the greenwashing that goes on these days - where companies or individuals like to paint pictures of themselves as being "green" because either it brings in a profit or makes them appear or feel virtuous. This isn't always a malicious thing. Take Scott for example: he drives a gas powered car instead of walking or biking to work which is near his home, he regularly buys produce flown in from all parts of the globe when there is a farmer's market closer to him than Whole Foods, he uses electricity, buys factory made clothes and pretty much lives like 99% of working Americans. But he recycles! And he goes to yoga and has an open mind, so he thinks of himself as being green and virtuous.

Now before I go any further I just want to point out that I'm not ragging on Scott, not in the least. I myself, while going to great lengths to eat local, buy local, support organic and shun mass consumerism on the whole, and frequently rail against the wastes and other flaws of society, drive a gigantic Ford F-350 super crew long bed diesel that gets 18 miles to the gallon despite having a cushy office job and no pressing need for it. I also own several computers, don't always recycle, and do on rare occasions buy shoes made in Chinese sweat shops. I know my flaws, but unlike Scott I'm not really at peace with them. I agonized for months over that pair of Nike running shoes I bought.

Reading through Suelo's writings I started thinking about vegans and lone wanderers, about animal rights activists, about Greenpeace and about the Dick Cheneys of the world. I thought about Scott and about my enormous truck. Everyone seems to want to make a positive impression on the world, but everyone is going about it in their own way. Maybe Dick Cheney's way of trying to improve the world is making things worse, and maybe the Dalai Lama's way is making things better. Or maybe not. Maybe the vegans are reducing animal suffering and cutting carbon and water wastes, but sitting in their coffee shops pecking away on their Macs they're still using thousands of times more resources than someone like Suelo who eats meat in the form of roadkill and lives in a cave. I feel superior to a suburbanite who buys as much toxic crap from China as their credit cards will allow. A bicycle riding vegan feels superior to me with my barbaric flesh-eating habits and my ridiculous truck. Someone like Suelo can snub his nose at the vegan who drinks a $10 cup of coffee flown in from 2,000 miles and uses energy from coal plants to run their computer made with toxic chemicals in Chinese sweat shops.

And you know there are of course people who snub their noses at Suelo. The argument they make is that he's a hypocrite and is also unsustainable because he gets most of his food and entertainment from the very society he abhors. Were it not for the dumpster diving where he gets much of his food, clothing, books and other bare necessities, he wouldn't be able to live as he does. The cave gives him shelter, and he does eat some wild foods growing near the cave, but it isn't enough to sustain him. He has no means of hunting game, has no idea how to make clothing from their hide, or how to make weapons from rocks and other natural materials. He cant' see without his glasses, and he relies on a bike he built from junkyard materials to get around and see his friends and escape the sweltering heat of the desert in the summer.

Where does it end? Who is right? Who is more right? Does any of it really matter?

Another common thread is religion, or the underlying belief that we're motivated by moral duty or a higher power to do what we're doing. McCandless talked endlessly about his moral objections to society and how by going against it he was living a "real" or more honest life. Ruess said the same things. Suelo talks a lot about the Bible and quotes from other religious texts as justification for his actions. Dick Cheney, the Muslim terrorists, the abortion doctor killers, the anti-gay coalitions, the vegans, the Al Gore enthusiasts, the Boulder City Council, Buddhists, Scott and myself all use some kind of moral argument to justify our actions. Yet many of the above are figuratively or literally at war with each other, spreading more destructive energy.

While chatting with Scott, he kept trying to make the point that we all do what we can in the ways that work for us. But as I pointed out, if a stone has to be moved from point a to point b, and we're all pulling or pushing on the stone in different directions with different tools with different amounts of effort at different times and for different reasons, that stone isn't going anywhere - at least not anywhere useful.

If we're all using too many of the planets resources and we're all putting out too much pollution, what does it really matter if Scott recycles? He's taking 99% and giving back 1%, when in order to be sustainable we're all going to have to give 99% and take 1%. Doing what you can, when you can, is a cop-out. What you're really saying is, "it's almost effortless for me to recycle and buy organic produce from Whole Foods and go to Yoga and call myself green and enlightened. It's an easy way to feel good about myself. Giving up my car, which would make a much bigger impact, would be far too inconvenient or unpleasant." In the end, Scott agreed and said he's lazy and he likes reaping the benefits of a wasteful and opulent society and he eases his conscience by recycling a few bottles. Welcome to the so-called "green revolution." It isn't the regeneration of that which was destroyed, or people coming together in harmony with our environment. It's us absolving ourselves of guilt and only slightly postponing the inevitable.

Maybe that's just a really negative outlook. Maybe I'm wrong. What do any of us know? It's possible that the half-ass efforts by the vegans and the recyclers and the renewable energy developers truly will buy us enough time or teach us enough to allow our enlightenment and/or our technology to catch up and deliver us to that utopian green world we all wish for.

Or maybe we're really just in denial as this bird spirals into oblivion.

I suppose the one comfort I have is a belief that was summed up beautifully by Max Ehrmann:

"You are a child of the Universe, no less than the moon and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should."

And that is where I stand these days. I do believe we're destroying not the earth, but the short term relationship he have with the earth that will allow us to live here and have good, meaningful lives. I do have my beliefs that some methods are much more effective than others at achieving utopia, if such a thing is even possible. I do believe that extending a hand to those in need, that honoring the sanctity of life and nature, that peace, understanding, knowledge, concern, self-control and self sacrifice are much better alternatives to their antitheses. But what I don't know is why there is so much suffering and destruction in the first place. I don't know why we can't come together as one species. I don't know if all of this means something or not. I don't know if my efforts will be in vain or if I spend a lot of time despairing over that which is, in the larger picture, actually perfect. I can't see the Universe from a god-like perspective. I cannot see the end of the story.

And thus I go about my life floating in limbo, doing the best I can to find balance as a sentient being trapped in a biological body, living in a Universe I can't fully comprehend and asking questions that have no answers. But this is what the Universe, which I see as perfect, beautiful and mysterious beyond comprehension, has created. The same forces that created the stars and the atoms and all of the wonders between and beyond, also created me. Whether one believes it was the will of God or the random shuffling of an indifferent Universe, it's still awfully presumptuous of us to assume we know how the story should go.

But does that mean we shouldn't still try? Will I start shopping at Wal-Mart and eating factory farmed meat, believing that some ultimate truth (if any exists) is unknowable and therefore there's no point in trying to make the world a better place? Of course not. Maybe we really are in a spiral toward oblivion. But it's also possible that this is not inevitable, that our story has a happy ending. Life has shown me that even the most improbable and wonderful things can happen exactly when they need to. If I can't see how the story ends, then I can't know what role my actions will have in the future. I may not be able to understand the whole story, but that doesn't mean I don't have some essential part to play in its unfolding.

Considering all of the above, I think that all I can do, all any of us can do, is what feels right. I must do what my heart tells me. I must make an effort to listen to what I believe are the whispers of the Universe, but remember that I'm not the author of the story. The vegan has her role to play. Dick Cheney has his. I may find myself opposed to them for various reasons and to varying degrees, and that's fine. That's my role. But I think, for my part anyway, I need to remember that, for whatever reason, this is how the world was made. Allowing myself to despair over these things probably makes as much sense as despair because the sky is blue instead of green, that everyone I love must die instead of living forever, or that I don't have all of the answers instead of being an all-knowing god.

This is much too heavy for a Sunday morning.