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Tag: change
Strange Bedfellows – A tale for times of change
In honor of this latest election cycle, and the ostensible results therefrom, I’m going to be re-posting my book Strange Bedfellows in serial format. Excerpts will appear on a regular basis, together with some discussion of what’s really happening behind the scenes.
At first blush, the story looks like a dire warning against mindless ways of life that threaten our planetary survival. (Some would say, “Yawn…“)
But the more closely you look at it, the more it’s clear that it’s not just an eco-friendly lecture, but rather a study in how we try to change… how we fail… and what can go awry when we don’t make the effort to actually create sustainable changes in our world.
There are a ton of lessons in that dream I had, over 25 years ago. And they stick with me, year after year, through one situation after another. Personally, I think it should be required reading for anyone thinking they need to make changes in their life — because it calls out the ways that we really do sabotage ourselves. And it points to where we can — and should — focus our attention, so that the changes we seek actually stick.
You can buy the book here ($9.95 + s/h), or you can follow along over the coming weeks, as I post the excerpts. Either way, it’s a story all of us should pay attention to. Because it’s true.
Strange Bedfellows – Foreword to the 2nd Edition
It’s now been over 20 years, since I had this dream in the upstairs loft of a pink house built not so far from my ancestral home. The story at first alarmed me with its scope and detail – who has dreams that are that vivid, that cohesive?
Then it intrigued me.
Then it annoyed me, as I tried to put it down on paper, only to find the pictures defying the use of words.
It took me years to finally get the story told. And all the while, it taught me many valuable lessons.
At first glance, this story might seem like a finger-wagging eco-warrior rant about the excesses of our toxic modern lives… our lust for luxury, our craving for comfort, and all the harm it does to Planet Earth. Indeed, when I awoke from this dream, all those years ago, that’s exactly what I thought it was: A wake-up call to alert us to Change Our Ways Before It’s Too Late… before our last chance to save the earth – and the human race – is gone forever.
And you wouldn’t be wrong to think that’s so. In a way, on the surface, it is very much about exactly that. We say we want to help the earth, but we make poor choices. We say we’re committed to change, but we set unrealistic and unwise priorities, and abandon them when we realize we can’t do it easily. We do things without thinking, and the world around us pays the price for our oblivion.
And yet, there’s something more to this story – something more enduring, something more global. It’s not just about a couple of spoiled, upwardly-mobile professionals who will stop at nothing to satiate their desires for success and luxury. It’s about much more than that. As you read the story in the coming pages, think beyond what’s on the surface. Look deeper into the behaviors and the choices that Paul and Christina make… and if you dare, look for signs of yourself in their shoes, making the same sorts of choices, for the same sorts of reasons, with the resulting consequences.
Your choices – our choices – needn’t only be about upward mobility, status, and prestige, to get us in trouble. They can be as seemingly innocuous as the decision to order takeout, instead of warming up leftovers. And abandoning our commitment to lasting change can be as casual as dismissing a set of New Year’s resolutions, because in February they’re just not as realistic (or fun) as they seemed back in December.
None of our choices are simple, these days. So many of them send ripples we cannot see into the world far beyond us. And it’s difficult to know how best to change course, and why. So, what better time to really think our choices through, really weigh the costs of committing to (or abandoning) them, than at this point in history?
Some say we’ve passed the turning point. I say we still have some turning left in us. But we have to be willing to turn – and stick with it.
Change of season, change of pace… and using it well
I almost drove out to Nauset Beach today. It’s an amazingly gorgeous day, bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The perfect sort of weather to head to the beach.
Nauset Beach on Cape Cod is about 2 hours from my house. 2 hours and 4 minutes, according to Google Maps. And considering I was up early today, and I didn’t really have any hugely pressing duties that MUST be done today, I figured I could drive the 2 hours (and 4 minutes), arrive before noon, eat the lunch I packed, walk the beach, explore the areas that were carved away by winter storms, and get back home no later than 10 p.m.
It’s Saturday. If the day runs late, I can always make up for lost sleep tomorrow.
That was my thinking, anyway.
When Laney and I were out in Provincetown, a few weeks back, we chatted with someone who lived in the area who told us winter storms had carved huge chunks of land off Nauset Beach. There were sections blocked off. Caution tape up. Facilities that weren’t accessible. I wanted to stop and take a look on our way home from P-town, but it was a rainy day, and we just wanted to get down the road. So, I didn’t get to take a look.
I’ve been feeling disappointed about that, because while I was walking the beach at Herring Cove towards Race Point, I saw so much erosion, it was crazy. It was — as the fellow we’d chatted with put it — “like the hand of God reached down and just scooped it all away.” Dunes were eroded so far down that driftwood buried for many years was exposed, poking out of the side of the washed-away dune, a foot or so beneath the surface where the grass was growing.
Half the parking lot was cordoned off, because it wasn’t safe to park there.
A lot of the parking lot was just gone.
Massive swathes of asphalt had been undercut and just buckled and fell away… then washed on down the beach. Or out to sea. There was a lot of asphalt unaccounted-for.
And up at the bathhouse area? Well, that beautifully constructed deck and walkway leading down to the beach for folks with limited mobility… that’s gone.
The spot where Laney and I built many a beach fire, not far from the end of the walkway? That was gone, too — as though it had never existed.
And even more remarkable — all those colorful stones and pebbles that have been the hallmark of Herring Cove South… gone. Washed out to sea. I think they got washed away a couple of years ago, but this year, it was even more noticeable… perhaps because of all the dunes erosion.
So, of course I wanted to get a look at Nauset Beach! It wasn’t enough to look online. I wanted to stand there and look at it – in person. I wanted to feel the sun on my back, the wind in my face, the sand under my feet. I wanted to hear the splashing of the surf, the calling of the gulls, and spot the occasional beach walker bundled up against the wind. Maybe I’d get pictures. Or maybe I’d just stand there and look at it, shaking my head. I wanted to see for myself what the hand of God had been up to, and marvel at it, just as I’d marveled at the damage at Herring Cove.
There was just one problem. I was bushed. I’d had a pretty long week, and I sorely needed to catch up on my sleep. Nothing kills a weekend more than being dragged down by a sleep deficit, and I’d actually been planning to catch up on my ‘zzzs’ today — and tomorrow. And nothing turns a 2-hour drive to the beach into a chore, like being tired. I actually did pack a lunch and was almost ready to go, but really, I was way too tired to do anything.
So I went back to bed.
A couple hours later, I woke up and looked at the clock. I could still make it to the beach and have at least 4 hours of daylight to enjoy. On the beach. Seeing the sights. But was it worth losing all that time to driving?
Not really.
Long story short, I made the best of my time at home. I got my yard raked. Dead grass has been pulled up to make room for new growth. Leftover leaves have been removed from the garden areas, and the deadfall in the front yard has been thrown into the woodsy no-mans-land between my house and the neighbor’s. The chokecherries that have been encroaching on the pines in the front, as well as getting a foothold all along the front stone wall (nasty thorny bastards!), are now trimmed back and tossed aside. And the trees that sprouted a few years back and were starting to get a foothold in places they shouldn’t be, have been cut and piled in the side woodlot.
And so, for me, spring has officially begun. With work. And with plenty of time to think. Yard work is a kind of meditation for me — a moving mindfulness practice that always brings new thoughts to mind as I tend the land around my home. Some folks hate yard work, but for me, it’s a reminder of just how fortunate I am to live where I do – and how I do. It gets me thinking. As I rake and collect and toss and mend, it frees up a whole lot of ideas that normally don’t come to me.
This year is seeing a lot of changes for me. People are moving in and out of my life. I’m losing people I care about, and I’m gaining new people whom I will eventually care about. My work situation is… well… interesting, as we go through a merger that has a lot of people asking a lot of questions, without many definitive answers, yet. And my own focus is shifting more squarely toward my writing and publishing, as I dig out manuscripts I started years ago… then put aside to tend to the day-to-day. There’s a lot of decent material there — at least five full-length works that are “written” in my head, but still need the words on paper. Novels. Essays. Philosophy. A play. And yes, some poetry.
As I was hacking away at the chokecherries, it occurred to me that although the books awaiting my attention are all about different things, they’re essentially about the same topic: Change. How we handle it. How we prepare for it. How we avoid it. How we embrace it and manage it, or fight it every inch of the way. What it brings to us. What it takes from us. It’s all about change, with me. And it has been for many, many years.
So, that was a productive use of time. I got my yard tidied up, and I got some good revelations. Sure, I would have loved to see Nauset Beach and how it’s weathered the seasons. But I was welcoming my own new season.
Right here, at home.
Change for Good – Beyond the four-year altar-call
Every four years, we’re treated to talk about change during the presidential elections. Everybody makes the case about why change is either needed, or not. And everybody has plenty to say about the new policies everyone else is proposing.
Who doesn’t want change? I certainly do. Good Lord, yes. I think you’d have to be either asleep or on very good drugs, to not desire at least some change in the world. If you’re just mildly paying attention, you’re aware of at least one or two (or two million) things that could use some improvement.
And all the political candidates have some pretty persuasive points. I’m in the unfortunate situation, where I can see the reason for every candidate’s platform. I can’t just discount them and call them “crazy” — because at a basic, human level, I understand them. Of course, understanding where they’re coming from doesn’t mean I agree with them — not in the least. But I do understand their perspectives, and I completely understand exactly why they and their supporters feel the way they do.
There’s one thing that eludes me, however — and that’s why anyone thinks that the change that’s most needed is going to come from on high, via a presidential candidate, when the “boots on the ground” are still hewing to the same-old-same-old. Seriously, we seem to collectively think that having a new butt in the seat of the Oval Office is going to steer the ship of state in some magically transformative direction… and meanwhile, all the folks down on the benches in the galley are rowing in the same old direction. Or not rowing at all — chances are, they’re on their smartphones.
What part of this makes sense? None of it, from where I’m sitting.
For the last four years — and all the four-year periods prior to the last election — the American public has done a fantastic job of avoiding making pretty much any personal investment in systemic change. We’ve enthusiastically pointed fingers and called names (we’ve got that down to a science), but what have we really — truly — done to actually bring about the changes we believe will save us all? Hell, we haven’t even bothered to more fully understand the issues we all face, collectively. We’re so busy snarking away on Facebook and tweeting our discontent, that any chance of in-depth discussion is, well, non-existent.
And no, watching a late-night current events discussion show does not count. Nor does having the political landscape explained to you by the pundit of your choice, as you nod in agreement.
None of that counts. Emoting is not effecting change. Reacting is not acting. Tweeting and posting is not social activism. And, sorry, flashmobs don’t count. Even if they are posted to YouTube and go viral.
What actually counts, is action. Doing something about your beliefs and values in a substantive, consistent way. You need to do the small, boring, unimpressive, personally costly, utterly transformative things each and every day, whether or not somebody is watching, whether or not it gets attention in social media and tons of likes. And guess what — it doesn’t count in an election year. Anybody can do or believe in sh*t in an election year. Just about everybody does. Anybody can gravitate to a political line and jump on board the party boat, every four years. Who doesn’t?
Watching all the political/ideological hullabaloo, this time of year, is like watching an altar call, when you see intransigent repeat offenders making their way to the front of the revival tent to have all their transgressions wiped clean… just like they’ve done regularly, as long as you’ve known them. And based on past experience and observation, there’s a pretty good chance they’re going right back to their evil ways, as soon as the glow of the revival wears off.
Same thing happens each election year. People get all up in arms and holier-than-thou and righteous and what-not… so-so-so sure that their candidate is The Cure for All That Ails Us. They’re true believers, and they support their candidates in word and deed. Then the election comes. Maybe they win, maybe they lose. But whatever the outcome, once the dust has settled and the new POTUS has their butt in the Oval Office seat, we all go back to business as usual.
And we spend another four years of habitual oblivion, racking up yet more reasons to be outraged and desperate, the next time around.
Considering how much more dire each subsequent election becomes, with “more than ever riding on the outcome”, it’s hard for me to take anyone’s burning political convictions seriously. Where’s all that social traction or that same devoted fervor when it’s NOT an election year. It’s nowhere to be found. Who writes to Congress? Who even calls their representative? (Signing an online petition doesn’t count, by the way, because the recipients often completely disregard them, because they’re so easy to fudge.) It’s all hands-off in the general population, and then we bitch and complain about how lobbyists have taken over our government. Lobbyists and special interests didn’t “take over” anything — they stepped into a gaping void that we’ve all created… and invited them into by turning a blind eye.
We rarely bother to really understand the full spectrum of the issues we face — we just hew to proposals floated by our candidates. Who among the believers that “big banks must be dismantled” understands the impact that would have on the pensions of countless retired schoolteachers? Or union members? Or other folks who have worked long and hard, and who rely on that pension to make ends meet? Who among the proponents of deporting all the “illegals” understands what impact that would have on the economy — or how their own constant craving for low prices drives the underground economy of undocumented labor? Who among the backers of a strong military understands how our long-standing foreign policies and global economic interdependencies contribute to ongoing strife that locks us in a perpetual state of policing and military intervention on behalf of more countries than just our own? And who among those who long for a return to Christian values, realize how vulnerable they are making themselves — because there are so many different flavors of Christian values, and many of those values have been used for centuries by Christians to disenfranchise and kill other Christians, with full religious justification?
We have no collective grasp of the full scope of the issues and challenges that we face as a nation, together. But to us, that’s not the problem — the real problem, apparently, is that other people just don’t agree with us.
All the ballyhoo, all the drama. It’s both entertaining and annoying. Because seriously, people, who is actually willing to put their money where their mouth is and take action by themselves, instead of looking to some national leader to point them in the right direction? Where’s the action, outside of election years, that backs up your commitment to change? People want energy independence, but they can’t do without their electronic devices and creature comforts. People want clean water for Flint, but they’d rather have cheap cars from Detroit. People want to protect the earth, but they can’t be bothered to separate out their recycling, or cut back on their driving. People want their kids to grow up in a safer world, but they won’t weigh in with their elected representatives on how to make that happen. People want gun rights, but they don’t want to learn how to responsibly and effectively use a firearm, so they don’t kill innocent bystanders.
We want our lives customized and personalized. Screw what that does to the environment. Never mind the expensively toxic bricks that Prius batteries are. We get save gas and look all the more eco-friendly. Never mind the haz-mat incidents waiting to happen when we throw away those new fluorescent light bulbs. They’re easy to come by and they save us money. New iPhone! Woo hoo! Never mind the massive buildings in China housing thousands upon thousands of workers, some of whom leap to their deaths out of desperation. That has nothing to do with us. It’s just sad. Here, let me share that on Facebook or Tweet a 😦 about it.
All this election year talk is just that — talk. For all the outrage and insults, within weeks after the election results are in, the vast majority of people will drop championing the issues and retreat to their social media corners, snarking about oversimplifications from the safety of the interwebs. They’ll say plenty — especially if they’ve “lost” the election — but will they actually do anything? For all the talk about values and the need for change, where’s the action to back it up… especially on an ordinary everyday basis? Where’s the direct contact with our dreaded Congress, to tell them what we actually want and need? Where’s the choice to forego creature comforts for the sake of preserving what we really care about?
Where indeed?
If you really want change, you need to act like it. And if I don’t see it outside of election years, then nothing you can say is going to convince me that you are serious about your political platform. Or that your candidate is a serious contender to actually lead.
Much of my thinking about change was influenced by a dream I had over 20 years ago. It’s now published as Strange Bedfellows – a story about how we change … and don’t. Get the book here.
An epic tale of change – what drives it… and more
Everything is going great for Paul and Christina. Their careers are fast-tracking them to success, and their future prospects are excellent. They take what they desire and live life to the fullest. Everyone and everything around them reinforces their entitlement, and they have no reason to question their right to do what they please, when they please, to whomever they please.
But in the blink of an eye, everything they’ve worked so hard for is at risk. What will they do, when a grisly guest appears out of nowhere? Will they have the courage to make the changes necessary to save themselves from a horrible fate they have helped to create?
Strange Bedfellows is a cautionary tale for our times, a retelling of an epic, intricately detailed dream I received in 1992. This is a story of truth and consequence… entitlement and impoverishment… conscious choice and change… and the hazards of being motivated solely by self-centered fear and short-sighted ignorance.
>> Get your copy here <<
kayLorraine 