"The Summer Day"

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

-Mary Oliver

Predicting the next 100 years

taken at the lake

(!!!) I have been hired by a Environment America to start in August. It's a big girl job in the big girl world, complete with a salary, paid-time-off, and a dress code. I'm stoked out of my mind, but I was thinking today that I've been hired to be a go-between. Go-betweens are great, but in our capitalistic society, they're phased out ASAP.

My broad-term job description is "environmental advocate." Buzzword: advocate.

Advocates are usually the good-guys, which is hopeful, but they inherently stand between two entities. Those two entities exist whether the advocate is there or not, like a child and a courtroom. Unfortunately for me, the advocate's existence depends directly and completely on the necessity of its existence. Interesting.

I am currently an unpaid advocate of the environment, mostly because I'm a student in environmental studies who likes to communicate. But soon, (i.e., August) the difference will be a definite rise in income and productivity. I will officially be a go-between. "People of the United States, ladies and gents we chose to make our decisions for us, meet the environment. You've know her all along, but this is what she does for you..."

It's all public relations really, because who's going to argue with me when I say, "If our planet isn't healthy, we aren't healthy"? Maybe a lot of folks, but not forever, especially since the American learning curve seems to be steepening. Steepening? Steepening.

Go-green ads aren't just for adults anymore. I became aware of this while watching TV the other night and when I came across the Disney Channel's greenery. Of course, I started looking things up online. Studies are showing that "Green Teens," or those teens most interested in environmental issues, are also more likely to be popular in school. With the Disney channel in all its celebrity saying what's up AND the added potential of becoming prom queen? What pre-teen isn't going to go green?

This is my evidence that my job is temporary. Hopefully.

I'm looking forward to the moment when environmental advocacy jobs are something of the past. I hope to goodness that my job becomes unnecessary and out of date sooner than later. Then, I will know my job is done. The neat thing is, I think it will happen in the next couple of decades. And in a hundred years I hope kids laugh at how silly an environmental advocacy job sounds. Why need a go-between when we can all do it ourselves?

My very own morning cup of links

syncretism

anxiety culture

"His heart is as open as the sky." -Tao Te Ching

If you like scrabble, maybe you'd like Bananagrams.

If you like trivia, maybe you'd like sporcle.

Cabinet, cabinet on the wall. Why do you exist?

I was walking around my apartment, thinking about things I don't use. I could very easily get along without cabinet doors. Are those for looks? I've walked through cabins in Rocky Mountain National Park that show visitors "how we used to live" and those cabins don't have cabinet doors. They have shelves.

So, hey, I'm 22. I've always had cabinet doors and never thought much more than, "Nice handles," or "Mm, I would've picked pewter." But I can do without cabinet doors, especially after I got home after class and my kitchen looked like a ghost was messing with me. All my cabinet doors were open due to my rushed morning, and I thought, "Why do I even have these things?" And why do I have a door on my pantry? It's perpetually open anyway, so I'm not sure why it's there.



But with my wonderful human ability to reason, I see how they'd be helpful if you have pets or small kids that like to "get into everything," but I still think it's something we can skip.

My towel closet is essentially a shelf covered by a door. A full wood door, painted white, three hinges, and a handle. That's a lot to cover a shelf.

This pretty reckless assertion (get rid of all the cabinets and doors!) stems from a more modest (and probably more practical) idea from Ted Helm, entrepreneur on the e-commerce frontier, that packaging is so silly! We shrink wrap everything, and it's basically just waste in transit.

If you sell me floss, I'll buy the floss without the paperboard backing and plastic cover. Just pour all the floss dispensers in a bucket, and I'll grab one. No big.

I can also do without these individually wrapped pieces of gum. Remember Chiclets? Just throw em in a box, a cup with a hatch, everwhat and it's okay. Won't we all still like gum?

With this idea that packaging is waste, there's no sense in ripping off my cabinets (they'd exist here or in a landfill at this point), but I will peacefully protest aisle 11 in all its individually-wrapped glory.

"The Imagination of Nature"

I was checking out Mental Floss, one of my favorite sites, and found this sweet video remixing the excitement Bill Nye and Carl Sagan harbor for the interconnectedness in the universe.

It's kind of exciting to listen to the lyrics and watch their faces get so excited about "being made of star stuff," because I too get excited about being connected to everything. By chemicals, by purpose, it's far from belittling to think of all the bonds. What's the difference between my purpose and a black hole's when we look at the universe? How can I even begin to think about something like that?

Are you upset?

I saw "Where The Wild Things Are" tonight with some friends and it basically confirmed that someone else thinks assholes are only assholes because they're people who are scared. I really do think that. How can anyone really just be an asshole? I refuse to believe that can happen. There just MUST be something behind it, and like I've said, fear is behind everything negative.

The kid in this flick was lonely and afraid he wasn't loved so he acted out. Then he went to this beautiful and diverse island where the Wild Things were all scared and lonely and feared they weren't loved and then THEY acted out. Then the all realized they ARE loved and hugged each other and made me want to cry. Because sometimes I'm an asshole. Because sometimes I'm scared.

But I think it's maturity that lets me see that sometimes I'm an asshole. Sometimes I'm scared. Maturity let's me accept it, and attempt to deal with it. Maturity.

Concurrently, there's a mutiny in my World Civ class because our professor is a jerk. I wonder what he's afraid of. I've been getting emails from my peers telling me to join them in sending an email to the Department Head to complain. Now I'm not exactly sure what to do at this point, because all I really want to do is hug him and tell him that it's okay. It's aalll okaaay, like his mom once did, or didn't do, and who the hell knows what the problem is. I sure hope he isn't fired because he knows world history. He just is an ass. And that's really too bad.

Floating thoughts

It was raining yesterday. I was on my way to class, late, standing at the corner waiting for the light to change. I had the umbrella Kelsey left in my apartment before she left for Wales, which is bigger than my little green one that can barely keep a girl dry. I noticed a guy with his shoulders up around his ears, cold and wet, so I did the unimaginable: I invited him under my umbrella. I forgot I was late while we walked and talked and I made a new friend.

Who doesn't love white-noise, like a fan running, when you fall asleep?

And is this the first day of peace? (I really do feel like it might be.)

I've been collecting data to determine whether or not I'm an adult. I have a game closet. That's a very adult thing to have. I have beer in my refrigerator, but I always have trouble spelling refrigerator. Hm. Quandary. I pack snacks for road trips.

But what's more is (yeah, check it out), I can apologize when I've messed up. I can hug people when they're crying. I can tell someone when they have hurt my feelings. Now, that's adult.

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