Our tall ship inches toward Copenhagen where it will dock near
Christiania, the semi-autonomous village in the Christianshavn
quarter. Apart from the job of getting the engineless ship into port
where we deliver 8,000 bottles of French wine, there is much for an ecological and social activist to reflect upon.
Sometimes when Nature's energy is high on the sea, with a fury, or when we are in the tender embrace of the water, air and sun that calms and becalms us, we get a slightly new perspective on our place on the planet. I should not have to add: that place is not about money or other narrow goals.
That this crew is a tight community is food for thought. Besides the
imperative of cooperation for survival, it is simply easier and more
natural to operate within a collective. Yet, in that situation one still finds oneself in
serious personal contemplation on one's intentions, dreams, and
grappling with vexing questions about modern living.
Such as, how can people emancipate themselves from the trap of wage
slavery and the separateness fostered by competition in the capitalist
economy? Or, how do you get people to join an optional revolution and
feel & act closer to the Earth? Perhaps Hollywood could depict
author Daniel Quinn's prescription for a tribal way of life in
today's mainstream; his favorite examples were a circus or a
newspaper. It does not matter what people are doing for their mutual
aid, as long as they are doing it together (and it is not a predatory
or exploitative scheme). Not everyone can live in a tall ship and
share a purpose on the high seas. So I am fortunate to be on board as
we together inch toward the Baltic on an August night.
If we have to rely on Hollywood or a Daniel Quinn to guide the mass of
humanity in this time of frightening crises, we're in trouble. We
need to keep focusing on the questions of our lives on a fragile
planet, and involve everyone we may reach. To fall back on the
certainty of eventual change and restructuring after collapse is to give
up on the power of imagination and hopeful possibilities. The
thoughtful individual wonders how billions of people can utilize their
power to enjoy harmony and solidarity -- for this is the alternative
to needless struggle for basic necessities.
Resources have been plentiful in people's locales both in past times of
healthy environmental conditions and with the advent of the global
economy. We are losing both, thus entering a doubtful new era that
appears to promise things will get worse before they get better. In
considering this reality -- denied by the corporate media and
politicians -- we may be openly active or privately coping day to day,
hoping for the best.
The key seems to lie in the balance between satisfying personal needs
while giving to the world, such as to one's neighbors in the common interest. Even for the
hard-core activist, the private concerns of family life or individual
health, or artistic creation, are undeniable priorities that can
impinge upon the chosen life-commitment to educate and agitate to make
the world a better place.
Yet there is little support for achieving this balance. We are on our
own, if individualism and fear have taken over our lives. So,
combining our talents and energy in a cooperative project for the
common good -- e.g., the constructing and commissioning of this
schooner brig -- is imperative. The separation between individuals particularly
in U.S. society is at its height, thanks to the unequal
American Dream and pervasive techno-whiz gadgets that have
substituted for intimate, direct communication. In contrast, in the late 1960s in various parts of the modern world, "the Movement" enjoyed growing
participation and a shared spirit. Despite repression and creeping alienation from nature and from one another, the Movement did not really go away. It has
evolved, as we saw the Movement's evolution result in a resurge during the Occupy protests last autumn.
For one's balance of personal versus collective action to be achieved
and maintained may be the big question for some, but most people have not
opted in. Beyond having to get daily food and shelter, or paying the
bills in a more affluent stratum, one's spare time and opportunity for
community involvement appear to be nonexistent. But the time and opporuntinity do exist.
Reaching people
requires getting their attention ideally before social upheaval
arrives with a vengeance. At the same time, some sub-communities --
either ethnic or communal -- retain and build solidarity in the face
of societal pressures. We need to look at how many, many more people can opt in.
The level of contribution to our common cause is not so crucial as the
fact of actual participation. For we can be, and are often are, happy
for whatever amount of giving or sharing that we do. Polls indicate
rising concern about economics and ecological reality. But "final
check-out" on our purchases during the faltering American Dream is at
hand. It can still play a large role in shaping lifestyles, such as
"green" shopping (better yet, non-shopping), along with more food-gardening, bicycle use,
and other renewable energy
investment on the decentralized, local scale.
It should not be so hard for us to increase our involvement in some
transition for joining the inevitable collective transformation.
There are so many possible steps, significant without being huge, to ease
the strain of workaday pressures. Routinized living has its
attractions, but is stifling -- not to mention foolish in a time of
rapid change and environmental danger.
Perhaps a case study can illuminate: an office worker for a European
military agency impressed me with her grasp of the financial sea
change rocking people's boats. The trend she lamented most is more
austerity, followed by deprivation. Yet, despite her spot-on analysis
of people's denying the disappearance of the average person's wealth,
she had a wall between her concerns and any adjustments she and her
family might make for a more secure lifestyle in the long run.
Maybe my suggestions
and observations gave her impetus to take a step to act. The
encounter I had with her was a dance party, where inhibitions, formal
behavior and free thought loosen a bit. My reflections after I left took the form of a song that I went below decks to write.
I share this anecdote because it illustrates that the task of reaching people
is often best achieved when communicating one on one in a relaxed setting. But failing that, it is sometimes accomplished when finding our hearts have opened through some meaningul music or poetry. Either of those routes can move a person to take a chance on change, and find the intimate community of solidarity we all really crave. It could be a ship, a commune, a circus, or a Christiania. However, when options have closed off, and "The army's on the road" (Jethro Tull, Aqualung), the ideal course is probably out of reach.
* * * * *
Written August 10, 2012, in the Skagerrak Strait, between Sweden and Denmark, on the Tres Hombres tall ship.
For the flavor of the voyage, read one of the weblogs I sent via satellite from sea, on the Fair Transport website.