Having more comes great responsibility

In the 2010 movie, “Meek’s Cutoff,” a scout, claiming to know a shortcut through part of the treacherous Oregon Trail, led a wagon train of three families across a desert. Although the film doesn’t answer the burning question: “Did they find water after many days without it?” the artful and realistic depiction of their difficulties made a lasting impression on me. In one scene, to lighten their load, the settlers dumped their furniture and other precious items out the back of the buckboards. In another scene, a runaway wagon is destroyed and the family’s water barrel breaks open. And, adding to their mistrust of the guide and at times each other, they argue over whether the Indian they captured is leading them to water or away from it.

In my novel, Jaguar Sun: The Journey of an Ancient Maya Storyteller, the protagonist spends his days traveling jungle trails between cities, some of them seven days apart, on foot, through the tropical cycles of wet and dry seasons. I’m fascinated and amazed by the resilience and determination of those who came before us, across cultures. Relatively speaking, the abundant American lifestyle that we enjoy is a relatively recent development. Our Inter-state highway system is only a few generations old.  When I was a child, my grandparents used a coal-fired stove, had a dirt floor pantry, got water from a cistern and had no indoor plumbing. Now, for Linda and me, the prospect of moving, even within the same city, is quickly dampened by the need to move our—okay, mostly my—stuff.

I’m amazed by what it takes for me to live and be comfortable from morning to night. A recent road trip provided a demonstration. Just to spend a day photographing, my car needed to be filled with stuff—a map (now GP), peanuts in case I had a blood sugar problem, a cooler to keep water and film cold, four camera cases, two tripods, a flash unit, filter kit, exposure meter, log book and a flight bag with waders, socks, underwear, a spare pair of shoes, clothes on hangers and a cell phone.

As life and living become more complex, physical systems seem to expand. Early on, Eastman Kodak Company profited greatly by the fact that cameras needed to consume film and paper, these needed chemicals to be processed and there were variations on these to meet the demands of special circumstances and techniques, thereby generating even more revenue for the company.

Likewise, every appliance is a system that needs to be continuously fed or maintained. We can’t just buy a computer. We need the  peripherals, a warranty and service contract, certain apps, special cables, a backup drive and a printer that consumes paper and ink. The same with smart phones, televisions, DVD players and other entertainment systems. Professionals and hobbyists alike, in every area, need a lot of “stuff” in order to do their work or exercise their creativity. Businesses have an insatiable appetite for consumables, as do sport-related systems that require permissions, contracts, equipment and uniforms. It’s a guess, but I estimate that we use twenty times the number of disposable batteries we used just five years ago.

Those of us who live in an abundance society are privileged, but with it comes the responsibility to minimize our ecological footprint. So also, state and governmental agencies that should be managing resources wisely—sustainably. While “consumerism” and the uncaring, unconscious production and consumption attendant to it can rightly be cited as a contributor to global warming and a variety of social ills, the argument that the earth is finite, a closed system, doesn’t hold water. As a living system, the planet is “autopoietic,” self-creating. At every level, it’s continuously making itself over. Evolutionary biologist, Elisabet Sahtouris, observed that the Earth is an autopoietic system, a whole system, “A giant cell within whose boundary membrane other smaller cells evolve, multiply, die and are recycled—(all these are) holons forming within the great Earth holon.”

The planet adapts and renews itself in response to natural and man-made change. Of course that doesn’t guarantee that the human species can or will survive such adaptations. And that’s one of the good reasons to cultivate foresight and invest in responsible planetary stewardship, to look ahead and plan responses to devastating potentials such as rising sea levels, rogue diseases, terrorism, fascism and asteroid bombardment.

What to do? We can get books, CD’s, DVD and more at a library rather than purchase them. We can donate books, clothing, furniture, cars, etc. We can fly and drive less, recycle our everyday waste and save fuel in a number of ways. The list goes on. But mostly, we can reduce consumption as an overall pattern by becoming more aware of the consequences of our consumption. Is this object or activity necessary? Is it a need or a want? Considering the above image, I can be more aware and selective in what I put in my shopping cart—on and off line.

Doing what you love is the cornerstone of having abundance in your life.

Wayne Dyer