"It's Sacrifice, Bob, But Not As We Know It..."

I was thinking recently of the word 'sacrifice' and its negative connotations, given that it is dawning on people everywhere that it is going to take considerable sacrifice to make the changes needed for life to continue on a swiftly-warming planet.

As someone who started off as a devout Evangelical Christian, the word 'sacrifice' will always have associations with Jesus Christ's death on the cross; an act that bought humankind back from sin and saved all from an eternity of damnation.

While I have drifted from that standpoint, 'sacrifice', to my ears at least, means a painful surrender of something precious - most often for little or no return.

From the Merriam-Webster online dictionary:

Sac·ri·fice

Pronunciation: \ˈsa-krə-ˌfīs, also -fəs or -ˌfīz\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin sacrificium, from sacr-, sacer (sacred) + facere (to make)

Making sacred.

I'm betting that that's not what we understand when annoying green-niks, eco-activists and concerned people from every field push the 'S' word at us in response to global warming and the climate crisis.

Sacrifice, these persistent folks bluntly tell us, is what is required of everyone.

We must do without, curb our instincts toward personal security and pleasure, learn to live with less, adjust to diminished resources and anticipate and head off further environmental destruction by willingly giving up many of the things and habits we associate with an acceptable standard of living.

That's a big big no-no for us in the Developed World. Why should we, who are accustomed to plenty, to a life of comparative ease and to the right - nay, the childhood-instilled imperative - to pursue the even better be asked to undergo something so painful. And voluntarily, to boot?

Surely, it makes far more sense for those who already have nothing, who are already used to enjoying nothing, who are children and heirs to nothing, to give away what they don't have?

Actually, re-read that sentence; it makes no sense at all.

Of course it is we, the privileged, who must sacrifice. But - and here's the good news - sacrifice isn't what we think it is.

Sacrifice is, literally, the act of making sacred.

When Andrew C. Revkin of the New York Times' eco-blog Dot Earth recently proposed: "A Few (Hundred) Things the Next President Can Do to Limit Warming", he drew this response from one disheartened reader, commenting on her compatriots' likely rejection of any measures requiring them to modify their lifestyles:

"While it is all fine and dandy to promote alternative energy sources such as windfarms and biofuels, I think it’s safe to say that those types of technologies are not able to support American’s huge demand for energy. And I say “demand” because “need” doesn’t fit the bill.

"Without a huge stress on conservation, it’s just pandering to the public. Americans want to hear that we can go on driving our Hummers fifty thousand miles a year, sit in our over-heated and over-air-conditioned homes and offices, consume products like they are going out of style and not have to change any of our own personal habits."

You can read the actual post here: http://dotearth.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/12/04/a-few-things-the-next-president-can-do-to-limit-warming/

But to go back to my original point: what if sacrifice, willingly entered into, was liberating. What if - putting aside for the moment the dire emergency we are facing, and in the spirit of a great experiment - we tried the following:

• Walking or cycling (or taking public transport) when we desire to pay a visit to the nearby convenience store/bank/post office, instead of driving.

• Turning off, or at least hibernating, our computers/electrical appliances when we're not using them.

• Avoiding the purchase of imported produce and opting to buy local, seasonal goods instead.

• Washing our clothes with cold, not hot water, and hanging them up to dry if we have the space/means.
• Replacing our energy-inefficient lightbulbs with the new, greener, longer-life ones.
  
• Recycling our glass, plastic, paper, and aluminium household waste - not to mention batteries.
• Wearing our old clothes for longer (and learning to mend them) before replacing them - and considering buying second-hand, good condition garments when we do decide to add to our wardrobes.

• Borrowing books from local libraries before buying them.

These are much publicised and really rather tiny measures toward a greener lifestyle. But while they're a start in the right direction, they are surprisingly resisted still in many parts of the Developed World.

Why? Because the idea is anathema to how we've been brought up, how we've been programmed to think.

And yet, if we can think of 'sacrifice' as a way of freeing up our spaces (eliminating the need to store more and more belongings), buying more prudently while still maintaining a healthy diet (less strain on land and ecosystems) and learning to take joy in the fact that we have a special relationship with all that lives, we can stare down the threat of 'sacrificing' our lifestyle to save our planet, and instead embrace 'making sacred' our actions to enjoy the only home our species has.

Before you think I'm a self-righteous, moralising, patronising pseudo-prophet, let me make clear that I'm as addicted to my privileged Westerner lifestyle as the next person. And God knows there's plenty I still need to do in order to live more 'lightly' on the earth.

But making my life and my actions sacred seems far more attractive to me than feeling I have to act out of a grudging, near-punitive surrender to the exigencies of the time.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

I have just finished reading a non-fiction book: The Psychology of Spirituality by Baha'i author and psychiatrist and lecturer H. B. Danesh (http://www.amazon.com/Psychology-Spirituality-H-B-Danesh/dp/1895456053/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1199044724&sr=8-1) that was a little dense, though interesting and well-written nonetheless.

One of the things he talked about a lot was how humankind was beginning to enter the age of maturity after going through a rebellious, individualist and self-centred stage. When I say interesting, I mean from the point of view that so many writers from different camps are, today, talking about a new paradigm shift that's very close to coming to pass.

The New Age community is abuzz with the energy and conciousness changes that are apparently affecting earth and humankind, and the potential for a new, enhanced, creative and loving existence for all beings. Scientists, environmentalists and economists are predicting a dramatic shift in world infrastructure - the breakdown of an unsustainable model of living the world over and a possible return to an earlier, agricultural society. And now, I stumble on this psychiatrist talking about our spiritual maturity to come.

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." 1 Corinthians 13:11

If we are truly on the verge of new understanding, a new walk with God, with fellow human beings and with all of creation - as I believe more and more that we are - why am I so scared?

Well, I'm scared because the 'shift' can mean anything. Change is in the air, and I'm terrified. Will there be dire world poverty and woe as economies on a mass-scale collapse? Will there be wars over scant resources and pandemics and crippling waves of immigration?

These are certainly some of the scourges of climate change predicted by scientists today.

Will there be pole shift in 2012 and wipe most of us out?

And if any or all of this comes to pass, will that truly prompt a spiritual breakthrough?

I dream of a world where problems are dealt with in true cooperation. I dream of a world where everything is powered by clean, renewable energy; where natural spaces are protected and revered; where war is unheard of - as is any kind of violence; where children are always wanted and brought up in the midst of a loving, wise community in which young and old are both respected and represented.

I dream of a time where the planet will be blessed by the commonplace awareness on the part of all living beings of the interconnectedness of everything.

I dream of a world that is motivated and run by love. And yes, I know that, right now, such a place can only exist in my imagination. But that's what keeps me going to reach beyond my fear of the unknown, deprivation, pain, sorrow and death.

"Après moi, le déluge" or "After me, let the floods come" is a quote attributed to the French King Louis XV who preferred, in his reign, not to tackle the serious problems he saw affecting the monarchy, allowing them to proliferate and fall on the lap of his successor.

World government-wise, this is where we seem to be at right now - and how I wish the US elections were done with and that we didn't have a year to go.

But this is where we're at. Waiting. And on almost the eve of the New Year, I know that change and the unknown are very, very ordinary, common things. Change is the one constant and the best way to embrace it is with hope, faith and love.

I guess the Christian take on things filters through whenever I least expect it...

The Danesh book was lent to me by my former teacher; I returned it today to him on the occasion of a gathering he and his wife were holding at their village home to mark the Baha'i feast day of Sharaf.

After a tasty lunch, we set off for a walk in the countryside along a path that followed the river. Along the way, we were each asked to reflect on a quote from the Baha'i writings. Mine was as follows:

"The gift of God to this enlightened age is the knowledge of the oneness of mankind and of the fundamental oneness of religion. Wars shall cease between nations, and by the will of God the Most Great Peace shall come; the world will be seen as a new world, and all men will live as brothers."

As we continued on our way, we came to a place where there were dignified olive trees, laden with fruit. And I gazed at their beauty, and the heavy, ripe olives, ready to be picked and pressed to oil, and the richness of the mud and water and stones and rocks around me. And I marvelled at how the natural world somehow manages to keep its purity, despite the indiscriminate garbage dumping and pollution that abounds. I guess some places are still sacred.

This is all rather strange and new in terms of outlook. I never used to be such a green freak before. I was always respectful of nature, but didn't think about it as intensely as I do now. I guess the thought that it might be ruined beyond all measure - and to wake up to how much we are dependent on the natural world to sustain us - has changed my view on things entirely.

Actually, my life has never before been so focused on survival, death and resurrection as it is now. The death of a beloved biology teacher when I was in my early twenties took years to get over, but the drastic life-or-death scenario that I believe the world is confronting today is something altogether different.

But then, I'm also older. My parents are older. My life has no particular shape or direction and, for the first time, I realise I have no real claim on the future - only an expectation.

For so many, that is a fact of life they live each day.

How many in Bangladesh or Indonesia or Africa or Pakistan or Afghanistan or Iraq or Kurdistan or Gaza really feel like they have a future?

Their best hope is for tomorrow. Not ten or twenty years. Just tomorrow. Or, perhaps, just getting to the end of the day.

I have never lived that way, and have no idea whether I could. I suppose if I had no other choice...

Sometimes I wish I could switch off my brain. Mercury in Aquarius, Virgo-rising, Moon within five degrees of the Sixth house and Cancer Saturn squaring Pluto and Venus do little to curb my ability to dream up horrors.

Tomorrow is the last day of 2007.

May the new year bring us understanding, peace, goodwill, wisdom, compassion and cooperation. Our future depends on it as never before.

Polar Cities and Green Blog to Watch

Lovers of all things green and those of you, who, like me, live everyday with a twisted knot of dread at the thought of our future, given the climate crisis, should check out a very interesting posting on 'Polar Cities' by blogger Dan Bloom.

Bloom presents and elaborates on the idea proposed by Dr. James Lovelock (he of 'Gaia hypothesis' fame) that those of us who survive the fierce global warming yet to come may well opt to live in Arctic communities - hence, 'polar cities'.

Check out the original post here: http://greenpieceblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/polar-cities-and-you.html

I also recommend checking out Bloom's 'Green Piece Blog' in general for other great posts on green issues; just click on the link that I will be adding to my eco/climate change list.

Sea Levels Rising due to Global Warming? Get Thee to a Jellyfish House-ery

Just stumbled on the following from the excellent WorldChanging archives...

http://www.worldchanging.com/archives/006457.html

A Jellyfish House. Truly, as depressed as I am about our abuse of the planet and globalization's evils, I am equally amazed at humanity's innovation.

No doubt with the impending ingress of Pluto into Capricorn we're going to see a radical emergence of new physical structures (after the old ones are finally pronounced in need of burying) and not a moment too soon, given those melting ice caps...

Capricorn as Teacher

It really was a Capricornian sort of day, even though I had completely forgotten we'd run out of Sadge.

I had few expectations when I got up, other than a vague plan to get some exercise. Since my last job ended mid-November (note how my anxious, self-worth-associated-with-labour Virgo Ascendant and Cap moon specify how recently I became unemployed) I've had a lot of time to think and, frankly, it's been rather bad for my mental health.

Consequently, my usual penchant to be physically active whenever possible has been rather non-existent. You'd have thought the promise of endorphins would have made me keen to hop on the family's walking machine, but part of my battle with anxiety has been connected with the climate crisis, possible looming catastrophe and how much electricity we consume. So, I've been loath to use anything that has to be plugged into a power outlet.

But today, exercise was definitely on the schedule. It was the only thing on the schedule - other than blogging - so, by God, it was going to happen.

A perfect Capricorn day for it, it was, too. Cold and dry weather, the house freezing and a sort of reserved, unemotional series of exchanges among the fam. Also, a surprisingly more measured conversation between my younger brother (home for the holidays from London) and myself than we've had in years. Even the date seemed appropriate, 22 is a powerful irreduceable number - the master builder - and most fitting with the Saturn-ruled sign's energy.

I excused myself after lunch to head off on a "short walk". My plan was mostly to head to a nearby gym that I'd spotted, to see if it had membership rates I was prepared to pay and what the equipment looked like. Of course it was closed - though the nearby bike shop was open, so I enjoyed looking at the wares and scoping out possible cycles to buy.

Again, my environmental anxiety has meant driving anywhere in our public-transport-almost-non-existent city is accompanied by deep concern at the amount of exhaust fumes I help pour into the atmosphere when I'm behind the wheel - even though I do love driving. Hence, thoughts of bike purchases. Also, it would be nice to cycle again as a way of keeping fit - though doing so in Nicosia is pretty much taking your life into your hands, given that most drivers consider cyclists an irritating inconvenience and there are no bikepaths to speak of.

No impulse-buyer I, my stringent Capricorn moon left the shop with information on price ranges, models, and useful accessories like helmets and locks. I'll be back, hopefully - once I've weighed up the benefits of owning a bike over the inconvenience of not having a great space to keep it in our building - and the 200 CYP I'd need to fork out for it when I'm not earning.

Then the walk began in earnest, and boy, with the exhaust fumes from the vehicles roaring past me and the patchy pavements that were often taken over by parked cars, it wasn't easy. Most of the time I felt queasy from the CO I was inhaling.

Still, I did pass by some unexpected little undeveloped plots of land with olive trees rising out of the clover. And I stopped to give thanks for nature's resilience. Even in our blindness and greed in expending earth's resources without giving it a second thought, plants and animals around us somehow survive. Not all do, of course. Many die - and too many become tragically extinct.

But if we open our eyes just a little along our familiar haunts, the natural world that is the realm of earthy Capricorn is hardier than we believe. And that filled me with gratitude, today.

I thanked the olive trees for gracing my path and picked up some of the garbage that was lying about.

Eventually, I ended up at an English-language bookstore (one of the few in Nicosia, in the predominantly Greek-speaking Republic of Cyprus) and headed for the New Age section. A rare treat - usually I can't get there during the store's normal hours of operation. But this being the countdown to Christmas, it was open far longer than usual.

In a bookstore, it doesn't take long for me to experience 'flow'. This particular afternoon, I became eventually engrossed in Kyriacos C. Markides' The Magus of Strovolos: The Extraordinary World of a Spiritual Healer (check it out here: http://www.amazon.com/Magus-Strovolos-Extraordinary-Spiritual-Healer/dp/0140190341/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1198356005&sr=1-1 ), recounting the wisdom and extraordinary life of the mystic and healer Spyros Sathi - the eponymous 'magus'.

Given his earthy humour, as well as his seeming mastery over matter, Capricorn seemed a good fit as the dominant sign in Sathi's birthchart, though I doubt I'll ever know for sure. Meanwhile, my own ache to understand universal and spiritual principles had me eagerly devouring chapters, seated in the middle of aisle traffic quite happily, with the vague hope that I wasn't proving to be too much of an inconvenience registering somewhere at the back of my head.

Eventually, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and looked up to see my old teacher from secondary school amusedly peering down at me. Interestingly enough, he actually is a Capricorn and one of the most spiritual people I know. I have been learning from him since I was 12 years old, and since I moved back to Cyprus last year, I have spent much time with him - most recently in a Baha'i study group that he leads.

He had actually met the Magus, before the latter's death in the '90s, but had not been drawn to the metaphysical teaching Sathi offered beyond a certain point. My teacher, as a Baha'i, has always seemed more suited to the devotional path than the occult. Whereas I am torn between the two, trying to boost my knowledge/experience of both these days.

My teacher was picking out Christmas presents for his children and grandchildren - mostly books, since he has dedicated his life to education. As a child I had thought him the perfect parent, but realised as he delicately considered what reading material he should buy for his eldest child, that the very virtues that had always led me to admire him might have been a little rigorous or difficult to live up to - or live with - for some of his kids.

That's Capricorn for you. So often, in defiance of the bad Astro press they receive, Caps are surprisingly sensitive and savvy about others' feelings, despite the drive to find practical application to anything abstract, the reservation, the distrust of the emotional. There's far more subtlety to the Seagoat than we often are led to believe. The strict, exacting parent whose approval can be so hard to win transforms into the wise, playful teacher - or even spiritual master - if time and our own maturity allow us to change our perception.

Not that I even need to mention it, but Liz Greene says it all far, far better in her classic text, Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil ( http://www.amazon.com/Saturn-New-Look-Old-Devil/dp/0877283060/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1198360126&sr=8-1 )