We are living in an unprecedented time for the human community. Everyday we receive more dire news. An estimated seventy-five million refugees roam the planet in search of home and hearth. A good percentage are climate refugees: flooding, drought, storms break down food systems, infrastructure, and interrupt energy. It’s not just international refugees: the U.S. now has fire, flood, and infrastructure failure refugees, and our major agricultural breadbaskets are threatened.
How do we go about work, family commitments, and living in our local communities in such a time? Keep our sanity? A sense of hope and prosperous future for our kids and the generations coming along? Grandchildren and great grandchildren?
What of the landscapes that are threatened, the ones we call home, that we love and cherish and from which we receive healing and joy. The flowering trees and shrub, the birds, bees, animals that enrich our experience of being alive on Earth?
Well, we haul water and chop wood: we do what is within our means. I cannot afford a Prius so I drive less. Others create sanctuaries for wildlife in their yards, and we try to recycle given all the barriers. We espouse a love for people and the land and waters and we engage with local and state leaders to manage resources for the long term. If we are religious, we gather at the church, synagogue, or mosque to consider how our faith lines up with the ecological needs and challenges of our time.
We suffer no strangers. We are all connected across the planet with each other. We all want the same things, share common dreams.
It’s so easy to become despondent, afraid, and hopeless. We must put our arms around each other and do what is in our means. In doing so, bounty arises again as we rediscover the power of community and the invigoration of personal clarity in how we makes choices and what we can offer of our talents.