Transition Whatcom

Transition Tale:  A Day in the Life and How it Feels                                                           June 19th, 2030


It’s late morning in the early summer and I’m strolling down a hilly, vegetated dirt path between free community gardens, private gardens, backyards and children’s play forts.  Land
space is so efficiently used that it’s kind of hard for visitors to tell which
is which. Although the climate has changed, many of the fruit and nut trees we
planted have thrived. As well there are ‘living fences’ of coppiced trees throughout
the city and large trees as windbreaks and air-flow directors that help
mitigate hot and cold spells. As I look down at my feet my eyes pass over my
clothes and satchel. Mostly I’ve made them myself from old fabric remnants and
locally produced hemp/linen cloth, but a friend of mine did the leatherwork. As
it happens, I’m barefoot today and my feet luxuriate in this soft path I’m
walking on. 


My pace is unhurried. Although I have much to do, it is not so much that I can’t stop and chat with some kids I see watching an earthworm in the path. They inform me that earthworms help create fertile soil and remind
me not to step on it. I go along on my business:  to drop off some wine I’m bartering for bread,
then to work a shift for a neighbor who’s building a small house.  I’ll be mixing and stomping cob (thus the
bare feet) for which I’ll get paid part cash and part Life Dollars. Although
the economy ‘collapsed’ a while back, money still exists and is traded to some
extent, but the largest portion of my needs are met by making and growing
things myself, trading with the local currency or bartering. Yes, the result is
that I have less, but I am able to enjoy both the things I have and the process
of filling my needs much more than I did growing up in a ‘bigger, better,
faster, more’ society. After these exchanges I’ll wash up for a couple of
community meetings:  our local water resources
workgroup, and the 5th annual Oil Independence Day festival
committee. 


I am 54 years old, and I feel as good as I did in my twenties.  My life includes regular exercise, simple food, sunlight and air, as well as time to heal, stretch, and
feel gratitude for meaningful work and human connection, and I have
reverse-aged quite a bit!  I used to
think that by now I’d be almost spent:  to retire, to sit neglected and decompose in
silence until I finally start feeding the flowers.  Today, we simply have too much work in
supporting our thriving community to let any person’s gifts and skills go
unused.  As a matter of fact, that’s
probably the biggest difference between now and back then.  The difference is not the climate, not resources,
not the economy, but the fact that we no longer expect things to be taken care
of for us.  The expectation that
government, professionals, or experts would fix our problems caused a rampant
sense of powerlessness- and the most obvious escape:  consumerism. 


By now, everyone realizes that we are IT.  We are the people.  This truth has woven the populace together in
a way that is magical to me.  We have
become the democratic infrastructure of our community, constantly creating
solutions and revising old ideas.  This
satisfies the human needs of being valuable and needed.  With those human needs met, we have found
that we need much less stuff.   The
culture of engagement, empowerment and vitality is palpable, especially at
community meetings!   It’s invigorating, and I wouldn’t sit on the
sidelines if I could. There are so many interesting facets of co-creating
community that it’s difficult for me to choose which ones I want to focus on. 

I’ve already tended my own garden earlier this morning but I’ll stop by the free garden on the way home and see what
needs doing.  As the long day draws down
I’ll probably make some tea and wander, enjoying the music that emanates from
various porches and fire-pits until a melody draws me in.

Views: 16

Replies to This Discussion

Bravo, Laura! Excellent, I love it!
Hi Lisa, I agree that in the present tense we need to be realistic, fearless and proactive in our solution making. That is the only way a dream like the one I wrote could become a reality. And I get that it's creative writing. But for me, I need to keep the feeling of possibility forefront in my thoughts, or I will slip back into the apathetic paralysis that had me stuck for so long. I'd rather be naive than hopelessly overwhelmed (although I guess I should allow the possibility for other options).

David, thanks! My housemate Sara helped me edit it, and when she first read it, she said, "I want to live there!" She is not (yet) a TW member, by the way.
I didn't find the article but I found a discussion which was a whole bunch of people's responses to the article, talking about fear and feeling hopeless, resisting paralysis, taking action, etc. I got the impression that the responses were national although he didn't list locations, and I was impressed by the thoughtfulness and openness expressed in them. It's a very raw situation but I am heartened to see I, my Dad and I, Transition Whatcom and I, the world and I, are not as isolated as we feel. There are folks OUT THERE ALL OVER doing their best to address our situation. Gosh, I'm more of an optimist than I think I am. Oh good.

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