The Best of Precarious Times

 My wife and I are both of German descent, with parents and grandparents directly linked to our ancestral home.  I’ve never made much effort to explore the family tree, to become familiar with individuals or their values, how they earned a living, why they left the motherland.  Maybe if I looked I’d find some explanation for my quirky behaviors.  Sometimes I think I should learn the language as a way of paying homage, or to be ready in the event the ghost of a dead relative appears in a dream and says, “Joe, wir sind eine Familie. Können wir reden?” but I understand nothing so the opportunity is lost. 

Some spiritual teachings claim we have always existed in one form or another and select a period or multiple periods in earth’s history to live our human lives.  We choose, seeing a particular opportunity or purpose. It’s an interesting concept, but what could be the motivation to be born into abject poverty, a life of slavery, plagued by incurable illness?  

If I’d had a choice, I would have joined the family tree as part of an early Germanic tribe and lived in a community of farmers, keeping a wary eye on the Vikings and Romans. Or I would have been on an early boat and among the first settlers moving west across a perceived untouched country, thrilled by the prospect of receiving land given freely by a government that simply claimed that land with little regard for its occupants.

But maybe, as a Marcommani or Ostrogoth or some other Germanic tribesman, I’d find discontentment on the farm, grow tired of beating out a living with primitive tools, perpetuating an existence that had endured for millennia. Maybe, as an early US immigrant, I'd be less interested in the welfare of a seemingly inexhaustible wilderness than on tools and practices that promised an easier and more efficient livelihood. I may have shared the ill conceived notion that native Americans lacked sophistication and were incapable of appreciating the better life we offered.  

I don’t believe I had a choice of ancestors or a time in earth’s history, but simply hit the jackpot.  I appreciate a good metal tool, even more a hydraulic machine that delivers tons of force at the flick of a lever.  I appreciate advances in medicine that cure disease, replace worn bones, allow a rogue virus to be tamed in record time.  I like hooking up our popup camper and driving 6000 miles.  I love the internet, with all the knowledge of the world at my fingertips.  I like cooking with gas, a well stocked grocery, refrigeration, glass jars, endless conveniences.  I don’t like supporting the world’s richest man, but when I order an item from Amazon and get it in two days, I‘m happy. I live in a world where in a matter of hours I can be anywhere in it. 

So much of what we have and take for granted comes at an environmental cost that can not long continue.  A fox that raids the henhouse nightly will one day find it empty. Rats in a New York alley live large until resources run scarce and they turn on each other.  What our ancestors averted for tens of thousands of years we have brought to bear in a couple centuries.  Our concern for the welfare of the planet is not good enough, but if we had it to do over again and without the knowledge of today, would we do anything different?

I like sliding into an electric car charged to full power by sunlight, and growing food using the same simple principles and methods practiced by ancestors.  I like recycled products  and for our future’s sake nothing should be made that cannot be totally recycled.  Cradle to cradle, zero waste. I like the promise of hemp products, everything from clothing to carbon negative construction materials.  I’m thrilled by the almost daily advances in renewable energies, agriculture, and other sciences that meld with natural systems and offer genuine hope for a long and sustainable future.

 

This morning the sun rose on a sparkling spring day following a gentle two inch rain. The crabapples and lilacs are in full bloom, oak leaves are the size of squirrel ears, three broods of goslings are exploring the yard, asparagus spears are in need of picking.  We watched as 13 hooded merganser ducklings leapt from a nest box, urged on by a nervous mother. The entire countryside is literally exploding with life. I took photos and within seconds shared them with the world. Thanks to a string of Germans who kept the lineage alive I am here to see it all, in the best of precarious times.