Action

I've been home alone today; Z went climbing with some friends. I've been sick for close to three weeks so don't really mind the forced solitude and inaction. It's been hot here today - hot and windy. It feels like the first day of summer and I spent some time sitting out in the sun in a tank top and skirt. Luxury! I've opened the front and back doors, creating a wind tunnel through the house in an effort to warm up the freezing interior. I love brick homes in summer when they stay cool, but in winter they are just so cold.

Needing some sound to occupy the emptiness, I put on the CD we bought from the Abayudaya who we visited while we were in Uganda. It takes me back to the Friday night services we attended in the tiny synagogue on the hill. The music - oh the music! Effortless African harmonies envelopping us as the sun set. I think about the lives of the people we visited and can't help but feel like all of my problems are those of a spoiled, white, middle class, westerner. This music puts it all in perspective. If I listen closely, in the background I can hear the buzz of cicada and the occasional goat bleating. It reminds me of heat and dust and green lushness; of matooke and beans and long bus rides; of long days and short sunsets and tremendous storms; of bright sarongs and spending a whole day sitting under a tree talking with the Rabbi who had just burried a child.

It also leaves me itching to do something. This is the feeling I encounter most often these days: an eagerness to be doing something. And no, analysing PhD data doesn't count. We caught up with an old friend of Z's yesterday and his Australian wife. She asked me over lunch what I wanted to do when I'd finished my PhD. In responding, I realized how much my answer has changed in the last few months. I used to say, with little hesitation: research. It's true, I love learning things and exploring the natural world. But that, right now, doesn't feel like enough for me. It feel too, well, academic: obscure, removed. I want to do something with this life. At least I can try to right some of the wrongs - it's the least I can do.

I've been especially inspired lately by Lumpkin who's spending this month in Colorado volunteering for the Obama campaign. He's turned words into action. I want to do the same and yet feel so stuck in PhD-land. It's so full-on that I rarely have energy for much else. I guess I'm just ready to be done. Really ready. I'm ready for the next stage, the next thing. I did the maths yesterday and realized that I'm one month short of half way, assuming it takes me the full 3.5 years, which seems a realistic assumption. Sometimes these past 20 months feel like they've flown by, but more often it seems to have been an eternity. Can I hold out for another eternity? When I think about the reward, the answer is an unhesitating YES. When I think about the reality of all that I have to do, some part of me shrivels.

I guess I'll get back to that data entry.

Reboot

Well hello. I haven't seen you in a while. I thought I'd drop by for a quick visit. Maybe we can share a cup of tea while I tell you about my day. It's been a nice sunny Saturday here in Melbourne, a perfect day to garden. In fact, after a few hours of back breaking bending, the garden's in: zucchini, capsicum, tomatoes, spinach, spring onions, jalapenos, snap peas, green beans, basil, oregano, dill, lettuce, mint, thyme, parsley, coriander, and a lone strawberry plant that held on from last year. It's not nearly as big as K&K's garden, but then again I'm not as insane as them and I don't like cucumber quite as much. It's incredibly satisfying to grow food. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to try being self sufficient for a while - to entirely survive on things that I can grow and make. It's not feasible now - and may never be, so I have to find satisfaction in my urban vege patch.

I've been thinking a lot about the state of world lately (it's hard not to with a financial meltdown, a global weather melt-up, and a looming election), and have come to the conclusion that I am deeply concerned. Deeply truly worried. I think it tinges everything I do, creating a base mood of No Good. I feel like we need a massive massive massive system overhaul: we need to change the way we do everything. Z and I were talking about this last night. He painted an inspiring picture of a city without cars, where all the black tops have been reclaimed and turned into wildlife corridors, grazing pastures and vege patches. As I was driving (ahem) to the nursery today, I tried to picture the streets without bitumen. I saw sheep grazing and trees full of birds and lots of big vege gardens. There would still be arterial roads and bike lanes and pedestrian walkways. But it would be quiet and green. Can you picture it?

So: a cultural, societal, governmental reboot. I think that we need to become truly local again. It's globalisation that's doing us in: the sheer expenditure of resources to make, for example, a cell phone chip in China using coltane ripped from the jungles of central Africa for resale in Melbourne is boggling. Tied into this is the imbalance of power, in which corporations have all the control. They don't care about you or me, just making money. Can we overhaul corporations? Maybe. Would it be easier to tear them all down and start again with a different structure? Maybe not.

But enough talk, enough thought. What about action? How do we make such massive changes? How can we start living locally? What can I do? I certainly think about almost everything I buy and use; I try to only buy produce that's grown/raised in Australia; I ride my bike whenever I can; I am registered to vote in two countries; I'm getting a PhD in ecology. But it doesn't feel like enough. Or rather, these actions feel like the equivalent of playing the viola on the deck of the Titanic as she sinks: inadequate to say the least. Z and I talked about the need for Homo sapiens sapiens to turn a corner. The problem is, see, that we're in this huge ship and it's going to take years and years to start around the bend. And I'm not a patient person. I want to know that things are going to be OK -and if they're not, I want to be doing things - big things - to make sure they are.

So, in summary, it's been a lovely sunny Saturday here in Melbourne to think about the state of the world while planting what I hope will be a productive and delicious garden. I hope we get to catch up again soon - it had been too long.