If you are reading this sorry for the rant, I always consider this blog more of journal.
I stood outside my apartment today, there in the parking lot with coffee in my hand I stood. Large snow flacks fell on my face and hands. I felt like I was gliding through stars. The flacks were so large and the air was so still. In these surreal moments I thought of what it meant, this phenomenon of snow in March. How many times has it snowed in March, were any of these times before the industrial revolution and after the last ice age? I envisioned all the plants that wanted to bud, would they survive this snowfall. I thought of the farmers who are thinking of there crops dyeing before there time. Where any of these potential dead crops meant for food aid. If they were would the countries accept them if they were genetically modified, “wait Oregon doesn’t plaint corn, so that wont matter”. These were my thoughts as I enjoyed snow gently landing on face.
There was a time when I would have never thought of things in such a manner, where snow was snow and there was little to it. I sometimes, for split second, think that it would be nice to go back to those innocent days, but then I remember that ignorance for me is not bliss. I remember that as my life has unfolded the knowledge that I have gained has led me to a happier place. It is one where life is harder, but there is purpose.
So as I walked back to my apartment and reached for the door I turned around and thought of what I could accomplish if I were to get into grad school. How wonderful it would be to not only gained more knowledge of the cause and effect of things but what can be done to change, what needs to be changed. It is not a simple solution, I know this, but it does not lesson my willingness to be part of a paradigm shift in how we live our lives and treat our world.
So many of our wars are fought in the name of religion but think of the conditions of the area in which these wars are waged. Wars are not usually fought in places where life is good, where the food is plenty and there is little environmental struggle, no wars are fought in the deserts, in the tundra’s. They are fought in regions that have been decimated by drought, loss of resources or other environmental hard ships. In the Congo people are killed for coal, in Duffer there is little water where it was once plenty, Afghanistan once had trees. In all these places life was once good, in those times there was no war. So while we fight with guns we spend little on the buildup of a sustainable life, maybe that is because it is more complex and less immediate, I don’t pretend to know this yet, but I will.
I never thought I would turn my interest to these things. I always thought that I would be an artist but the more I live the more I read the more I want to be an architect of a different kind. Instead of designing buildings I want to build habitable societies.