You may have heard of the No Impact Man film, launched a couple of years ago:

A newly self-proclaimed environmentalist who could no longer avoid pointing the finger at himself, Colin leaves behind his liberal complacency and vows to make as little environmental impact as possible for one year.  No more automated transportation, no more electricity, no more non-local food, no more material consumption…no problem.  That is, until his espresso-guzzling, retail-worshipping wife, Michelle, and their two year-old daughter are dragged into the fray.  What began as one man’s environmental experiment quickly becomes an experiment in how much one woman is willing to sacrifice for her husband’s dreams.
 
I haven't yet seen the film, but today I just learned of the No Impact Week Project, described by the original No Impact Man Colin Beavan as a one-week carbon cleanse - a time to explore what a difference no (or lower) impact living can make for your quality of life. The week-long experiment is co-sponsored by Yes! Magazine and is free. So I registered for this and... IT STARTS TOMORROW! SEPTEMBER 18 - YIKES!

When I registered, I was immediately sent a guide, which I have posted on the Resources page. Below is Sunday's challenge - check out the guide if you are interested in details and helpful links:

Welcome to Day 1 of your No Impact Experiment!
Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff. 
This first challenge is about doing more with less. People around the world are discovering that they'd rather spend time making social connections than buying new stuff. To learn why this is such an important part of living a lower impact life, watch one of our favorite videos, The Story of Stuff. The No Impact Experiment is a truncated version of Colin Beavan’s experience trying to live in New York City with no environmental impact. Three months into Colin’s year-long experiment, he stopped consuming new goods (except food). As his wife Michelle discovered, when you kick your shopping habit, you’ll save money, have more time to spend with your family and friends, discover more space in your house, andmaybe — just maybe — you’ll discover that less really IS more.

[Okay, I just have to say here that I am a tad offended by the sexist tone of these blurbs - but I will try to withhold judgment until I see the movie :) ]

I recognize that it is truly a luxury to undertake such a project - to even think about, "OK, I could buy that but I won't." It is an odd situation to be in, trying to moderate shopping, consuming, wasting, when so many across the world are in no position at all to have anything to moderate. And I am certain that most of our grandparents and great-grandparents would look askance at these efforts to LEARN a style of living that they must have lived by necessity each day. Nevertheless, I think about this stuff a lot and am open to anything that helps me be more aware of my place in this whole environmental mess, anything that helps me look at my habits and maybe tweak them a little. And I am certainly open to these activities when they happen on a larger scale. So I am in for the week (I humbly and hopefully say today), and will let you know how it goes.

I am intrigued by Colin Beavan's work - his personal project and the resulting film. What I am most curious about is the story behind it, which I guess I will learn as I read more and see the film. Who was the little Colin Beavan who eventually grew into a man who would undertake and record such a project? What was his family like, his own childhood? What shaped him toward this future? Where will he go next?

Stories. Last night I attended Stories on the Square at the Square Cafe, sponsored by the Initiative for Transgender Leadership. Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's Tony Norman wrote movingly and humbly about his interview with Rayden Sorock, an ITL member who worked to get this event going. Friday night, several people told stories of emergence, of coming out from under. 

The stories were told "without a net" in nine minutes each, and were quite remarkable. Some of the stories were related to gender, sexual orientation, and identity. ALL of the stories were about what it means to be human. Human - in all of its glory, pain, mistakes, misunderstandings, wounds, and healing. The stories brought laughter, tears, and sighs of recognition.

Julie just sent me an article entitled "What Do We Know When We Know a Person?" - she is reading this for her Theories of Personality class - saying that she is intrigued by the Level III of personality described by the author.  According to McAdams (1995), the psychologist who attends to Level III of an individual's personality is interested not just in a person's behavior or thoughts or feelings, or hobbies and interests. She is curious about how the individual's life expresses unity, purpose, and meaning. The psychologist sees the life as an internalized and evolving life story. A story.

I love this idea - it is what pulled me toward the work that I do.

What is your story?

MANIFESTO: THE MAD FARMER LIBERATION FRONT
Love the quick profit, the annual raise, 
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready-made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die. 

And you will have a window in your head. 
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer. 

When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you 
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something 
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor. 
Love someone who does not deserve it. 

Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot 
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed. 

Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias. 
Say that your main crop is the forest 
that you did not plant, 
that you will not live to harvest. 

Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold. 
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. 
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees 
every thousand years. 

Listen to carrion — put your ear 
close, and hear the faint chattering 
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful 
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men. 

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child? 
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 

Go with your love to the fields. 
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts. 

As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. 

Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction. 
Practice resurrection. 

~Wendell Berry (1991)~

Gotta love this plain-spoken man. A prophet, I believe. 

Have you thought about work today? I went through my day sending honorable thoughts (and real words of thanks when possible) toward every worker that I could think of who crossed my path today. Here is a short list... the makers of the computer on which I type, the cooks and servers in the restaurant where I had lunch, the BP gas station mini-mart workers, the folks volunteering at the East End Food Co-op, the farmers who grow the food that is sold at the co-op, the students that I will see tomorrow who work and study 24/7 (these are not your stereotypical college students), the construction workers filling pot-holes from last winter and the workers who hold the "STOP" and "SLOW" signs who protect the pot-hole fillers, the makers of the big machines used to patch the road... we could go on and on. There is honor in every type of work that is done for good. Who are the workers in your life today?

It was a perfect last day in Sanibel. I will miss the ocean, the birds, and the sun. It has been a beautiful week - it restored my soul and cleared my mind - and I am looking forward to being back home with my loved ones and my friends at work.

Sanibel-Captiva is a whimsical place - with restaurant names right out of a children's storybook - The Bubble Room, The Island Cow, The Green Flash. The sunrises and sunsets have other-worldly hues. Seems like humans are the interlopers - the beach really belongs to the fish, dolphins, and birds. I wonder what it might be like were we not even here!

One of my favorite childhood poems keeps running through my mind - not sure why - maybe it is just a poem of whimsy and suits my mood! I love its rhythms, its nonsensical words, its silly yet romantic images.

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat.

They took some honey,

and plenty of money

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

You are,

You are!

               What a beautiful Pussy you are!"             

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,

How charmingly sweet you sing!

Oh! let us be married;

too long we have tarried.

But what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the bong-tree grows;

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,

With a ring at the end of his nose,

His nose,

His nose,

             With a ring at the end of his nose.           

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."

So they took it away, and were married next day

By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand on the edge of the sand

They danced by the light of the moon,

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.  

~ Edward Lear, 1871

On the beach at 7:30 pm. Only five minutes. Standing in one place, looking all around in different directions. Hard to believe...

How beautiful is this? I am in Sanibel, FL for several days, sleeping, swimming, and soaking up the sun - taking a little time before classes start back. This morning I spotted this amazing work of nature next to the pool and, even though I am no botanist and don't ever remember learning this fact, I immediately knew that this plant is a "bird of paradise" flower. How could it have any other name?

Do you know what the bird of paradise flower is believed to symbolize? Among its meanings are a "good perspective," freedom, and faithfulness. Back in the day, in Victorian times, most people could tell you such things - the meanings of different flowers - at the drop of a hat. What a world that must have been - when one would just unconsciously soak up these romantic facts about flowers without even being aware of it. What a world that must have been - when even small children could easily identify most trees and flowers and birds, again with little awareness of having learned the names.

I love being near the ocean. This is my first time in Sanibel, which is famous for the shells on the beaches. I have seen a few, and have just let them be. What I am appreciating about Sanibel is its true beachiness (is that even a word?). The beaches are not clean-swept each morning, as beaches in some other places are - on your morning walk here, you are apt to find abandoned crab-legs or broken sand-dollars or stranded jelly-fish, mixed in with what seems like millions of different kinds of seaweed. Flotsam and jetsam - it is what is naturally deposited by the sea world each day.

I have seen lots and lots of birds here - huge brown pelicans with wing-spans of six or seven feet, dive-bombing for their lunch; dainty and dignified snowy egrets, delicately walking along the sand in their golden slippers; ospreys on their nests high in the trees. And I have seen other critters - most notably, lots and lots of geckos - who do not, by the way, sell insurance or speak with a British (or is it Australian?) accent as suggested on TV!

Speaking of TV and other "electronica" - I am obviously a little plugged in down here, as I am writing this blog, but I am minimizing my connections this week as much as possible - hard habits to break, I admit. I have my phone with me only when I want to take photos or when I am in the car, and am trying to refrain from checking email. It is really hard to completely unplug, however - driving in the car, I find myself automatically searching for NPR on the radio without even thinking consciously about it, and thus end up absorbing lots of news about the world beyond here. What I am absorbing is not names of flowers or birds - it is stories about the GOP bashing of EPA. Protests and hunger strikes in India, where citizens are fighting rampant corruption among those in power. Investigations of S & P's role in the mortgage fiasco of 2008 and the years leading up to it - side-by-side with analyses of what our drop in credit rating really means. Heavy sigh.

Alternative medicine guru Andrew Weil, MD, has advised taking periodic news fasts - he maintains that our 24/7 exposure to what we call "news" is one big source of negative stress - which, over time, can cause pretty significant health problems.

So, I am going to try the news fast for my remaining days of vacation, and I am going to really try to be present to the true "news" all around me... the three scavenging sea gulls fighting over one fish, the two German kids playing with the gecko on the deck, the older couple kissing and canoodling out in the surf, the gorgeous tropical flowers that look like other-worldly creatures  poised to take flight, the talents of the chef at Traders Restaurant - have you ever had "white gazpacho"? Stay tuned for the recipe - out of this world. And I am going to stay tuned in to my feelings of being part of a loving world - though I am down here on my own, I know that Steve and Michael and Julie and Leah and Paolo and all of my family and heart-friends are out in that big world beyond, making things better in their own corner of the world. A "good perspective," I think. 

And what is the important "news" in your world?

 

Thomas Doherty, the editor of peer-reviewed Ecopsychology, practicing psychologist, and professor at Lewis and Clark in Portland, Oregon, talks a lot about "personal sustainability." Using his questionnaire, we can examine our own emotions and thoughts, our physical health, play and creative lives, relationships with other people, our communities, and the natural world, to assess our own health and well-being. How much in balance are we? Are we living our lives in ways that can be sustained in a healthy, thriving way over the long-term?

I have witnessed and experienced un-sustainable lives - ways of life that are not healthy and that cannot sustain one's being over time. My sweet and brave daughter, Julie, has experienced such a life herself, suffering with an eating disorder for seven years, and has offered to share her story with you - and to share information about how we can advocate for research that can help prevent and treat eating disorders. Here is Julie's story, in her own words - she has shared this with many young people in high school and college:

I want to begin by sharing a story with you all – a story about a shy little girl who spent her free time dreaming about all of life’s wonderful plans and possibilities – a little girl who was quite confident that these hopes and wishes would come true.  She loved everything beautiful from silver sparkle jellies and bright pink nail polish to princess Halloween costumes and dress up clothes her mom had secretly bought at Goodwill.  She built a pretend office in her walk-in closet to play secretary with her best friend Natalie and she set up three dollhouses on the dining room table, spending hours rearranging furniture and making up stories about the lives of her families.  This little girl had an endless amount of creativity and motivation and never once questioned whether or not her dreams would come true.  This little girl was me.

Flash forward to late middle school and early high school.  The little girl I once was began to fade into the background as goals took on the form of straight A’s on a report card and dreams turned into becoming valedictorian and attending an Ivy League school.  My days became filled with honors classes I rarely enjoyed but had to pretend I loved and hours upon hours of homework that continued far into the night.  Sleep was of little importance or so I told myself and having fun was the last thing on my list.  It didn’t matter whether or not I wanted to do what I was doing; I simply had to and I knew no way out.

During the fall and winter of my sophomore year, I found an outlet for some of my stress about academics and success – a new project focused on my outward appearance.   I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to flat iron my hair, I was always running late as I threw clothes around my room until I had found the perfect outfit, and I began to eat as little as I could in hopes of getting to that magic number on the scale.  Now this is in no way to say that school was the sole cause of what later became a full-blown eating disorder – there were the typical family issues, the obsession with images in the media, and an overall lack of positive self-esteem – but my focus on being the perfect student certainly added fuel to the fire.

As the year progressed, I became increasingly entrenched in my rigid eating and exercise habits and spent far too much time critiquing my body in front of the mirror.  Family, friends, and doctors had begun to notice my behavior and were concerned with how thin I had become.  They all told me I could not lose any more weight and suggested I get some help.  Yet, at the time, I could not understand what they were so worried about; it was as though they were trying to tell me I needed to stop the one thing in life that made me feel calm, the one thing I was certain I could succeed at. 

However, the high of feeling in-control and powerful could not last forever.  By the end of the summer, I knew that something was wrong, that I wasn’t happy, that I was always anxious, and that I had fully lost that all that desire and creativity I once had as a little girl.  But stubborn as I was, I would not change what I had become and so I waited until my parents took action and decided to sign their 16-year-old daughter into treatment.

To make a long story short, as I feel the details of my time in treatment are not necessary to who I am today, I will simply say that the seven years I spent going through the revolving door of relapse and recovery was the hardest thing I have done to date. I had to hit rock bottom time and again before I realized that I was sick of being sick, that I needed to change something, and that I couldn’t do this alone.  Although I didn’t know what I wanted for myself, I knew what I did not want, and that was my life the way it was with an eating disorder.

Throughout my ups and downs in treatment, one thing remained consistent: I was becoming alive again.  I began to feel all kinds of emotions that I had blocked for years – anger, sadness, happiness, love.  I began to notice hunger cues and cravings for so-called forbidden foods that I had denied myself of for so long.  I began to have hopes and dreams again – I wanted to go back to school and to have friends and a boyfriend and a job I loved someday.  I began to let down my guard and to open myself up to the possibilities life had to offer.  Now I will not lie, the path to recovery is not simple or neat or ordered or anything my once OCD self thrived upon.  There were highs and lows and all kinds of in-betweens – which I later learned is how everyday life is even without an eating disorder.  But in spite of any pain or struggling I had to experience, the work was worth the reward.

As I speak to all of you today, I have been out of treatment for a little over a year [now two] and I can honestly say I didn’t always believe that my life as it is today would be possible.  I had fought and fought for so long that I sometimes didn’t even know what I was fighting for.  Yet, here I am, twenty-four years old and finally living those dreams that the little girl in me always knew I could.  No, my life is not perfect; not everything is sparkly jellies and princess costumes.  I was not valedictorian of my high school nor did I go straight to a top-notch school.  But I am happy.  Day by day, I am learning to accept my flaws, to ask for help when I cannot do it alone, and to admit that sometimes I am scared and unsure.  I do not always love how I look or the way my clothes fit on my healthy self.  I have my moments, although they are becoming less frequent, where I want to restrict again or run just a little bit too far.  But by the end of the day or week or however long it takes, it always seems to turn out okay.

If I can leave you all with one thing today, with the most valuable thing I have learned throughout my recovery process, I want you all to know that it is okay, in fact it is perfectly wonderful, to be you, in your purest form, to follow those dreams of the little girl or boy inside of you, to live in a way that makes you happy.  I agree that academics, a career, finding your ideal city, and so on, are all important things in life.  We would not move forward if we never had tangible goals.  But when push comes to shove, it is being true to ourselves and surrounding ourselves with people who do the same that keeps us alive.  Everything else just seems to fall in place. 

So that is Julie's story - and her brother Michael, her dad Tony, and I each have our own stories about those seven years. I can tell you that the prayer at the front of my mind and heart each day when I woke up and each night when I went to sleep (or tried to sleep) was about Julie - and how we could help her become whole again. She traveled her path to recovery courageously, as we walked our paths alongside her, and she came out the other side whole. As a vibrant and wise young woman of 24, Julie is well aware of what is needed to live a life of personal sustainability, of joy and strength.

Julie has been active with the National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA), organizing campus activities to educate students and working with others to plan the annual St. Louis NEDA walk to raise funds for research. If you would like more information about how to help, please visit here. If you know others who have struggled with lives that cannot sustain health and well-being, you may share her story with them. There is hope.

Whoa - check out this picture. This has been my life, and mind, over the last couple of weeks. In case you cannot tell what is going on in the photo, it is a picture my dad took of us dancing the hora at Leah and Michael's wedding. Around and around, weaving and circling, coming together and parting, with such happiness, chaos, and energy. The wedding was a feast of joy - we are all still floating on cloud nine, still basking in the love that was present.

Leah and Michael are very wealthy in the love that they share for one another, and in the love among them and their friends and their families. Yes, the wedding was festive and big and glorious, with music to die for, cakes and wine and more food and drink than you can imagine, beautiful dresses, beautiful-er men and women, flowers, sacred traditions and prayers - and the abundant joy would have still been experienced if the day had simply been families and friends coming together to witness Leah and Michael's vows of commitment to one another.

I have been thinking about abundance - I think that I have talked about this a bit before. I am amazed at what riches I find when I look, when I listen and wait. In June, I sent the photo below to Sheila Rodgers, the photographer for Nancy Gift's book Good Weed, Bad Weed. Sheila is my dear friend, secretary, and "queen of f***ing everything." I asked Sheila if this plant that was growing like, well, like a weed, was indeed a weed. There were several of these plants, growing taller and taller in the beds in front of my house and looking like a mess. Sheila's response -  "Depends on whether or not you like it and want it." 

So I - who am not a very patient person - decided to wait to see what would happen. Here are some photos of the same plants from the last few weeks. They speak the language of sunshine, greeting me each evening as I return home from work.

I have been a weed before in my life - offering what I felt like were gifts to folks who did not want what I had to give. And, without much change at all on my part - same old genes, same old personality and looks, I have so not been a weed in other worlds, among people who treasured and valued what I can give. And I have seen places that have been viewed as eyesores, as weeds to be eradicated, to some, and as jewels in the making to others. I have told you about Chris Condello of Wilkinsburg and the Whitney Avenue garden, and about Juliette and Michelle of Pittsburgh Permaculture and the Hazelwood Food Forest, who have taken abandoned vacant lots and transformed them into life-giving spaces providing food for their communities. Looks like this is catching on elsewhere, based on this recent NY Times article. Weeds and vacant lots, or food and communities. Our choice.

My summer class, Psychology and the Environment, is coming to an end. What a motley crew we are - counseling students (some of whom admittedly took the class only because they needed an elective and all of the other classes were either full or didn't fit their schedule), landscape architecture students (who must have been thinking throughout much of the course - "what in the world have we gotten into here?") and me - a late bloomer who has become enthralled with all things ecological - with the beauty of this world, and how it all works together, and how we can nurture and protect it. I have so treasured our class time together, learning alongside these people and experiencing each person, including myself, wake up just a little bit more each night.

Last night was an amazing class. Chris Condello did his first public speaking about the Whitney Avenue garden, telling the story of his own life and the community that is growing, thanks to his efforts, tomato by tomato, pumpkin by pumpkin. Please, please, please check out his blog and think about what you might also have to offer to your own corner of the world. Heather Smith, one of our own counseling students, also spoke. She had just returned from her annual trip to Oregon where she spends time in the wilderness with friends who are passionate about being with and learning from the natural world - she spoke about "deep ecology" and about the advocacy and activist roles that counselors and other ordinary citizens can take on. 

Both Chris and Heather spoke the truth from their hearts. They bring spirit and light to their work and to their lives that touch so many others. Their work is not simple or clean. Neither one's story fits into a nice, neat box with square corners and straight lines - no box that might suggest lives of rules, predictability, and control. Their lives are messy. And wonderful. And abundantly rich. Just like ours. Particularly if we are willing, like them, to really see and listen, to get our hands dirty as we muck around in the soil with the bugs, worms, basil leaves, grape vines, and the occasional wild raccoon.

Finally got my rain barrels hooked up, thanks to friends from the Nine Mile Run Watershed Association - just in time for some good showers. How goes it in your world?

Home. Where is yours? Where do you feel safe, cared for, relaxed, able to be yourself? Where is your "place"? What makes it your special place?

My home is Pittsburgh, specifically the communities in the eastern part of the city - Regent Square, Squirrel Hill, Highland Park, East Liberty, Lawrenceville. These are wonderful communities, rich with history, striding confidently into the future with new ways of being together. 

What makes this place my home? I love the diversity of people and ideas and opinions that are here - I love seeing the bodacious bumper stickers on the cars, the older citizens who steadfastly stand at the four corners of the Forbes and Braddock intersection on Saturday mornings to protest the war, the quirky local restaurants, the vibrant houses of faith that serve their congregations and the larger community, the parks and the rivers. I love the friends that I have in this place who share many of my values and ideals, and who vociferously disagree with me on others.

My house is part of this home. It was built in 1929 and has had, I believe, four owners since that time. It is a sturdy bungalow, built for another time with its very tiny closets, built-in bookshelves, scarred wooden floors. It has a tiny yard which is just big enough for a garden of radishes, lettuce, tomatoes, zucchini. My house is part of my home because it provides shelter and comfort for me and my loved ones. Last winter, Michael brought his fiancee Leah to my home and invited his high school buddies over to introduce them to Leah (by the way, the wedding is 11 days away!). I have known these boys-men for most of my son's life - yes, he invited only his guy friends, with whom Leah more than held her own - I left them at the dining room table around 11 pm, and went to sleep on a cloud of happiness, knowing that these people who are so important to my son were gathered in this home to celebrate Michael's next step in life.

Of course, my family is also part of my home, my place, even when they are geographically removed. Around my house are Julie and Michael's art projects, books, toys, photos, gifts, cards.... pieces of their lives and spirits that are shared with me, that find a home in my house. My home is shared with Steve a good part of the time - filled with his generosity, humor, and kindness.

Poet Gary Snyder says - "Find your place on the planet. Dig in and take responsibility from there.” I have found my place. I identify with my home - my house, my neighborhood, my city, my family. It is part of me, and I see myself as part of this home. I feel an allegiance to my home, a sense of ownership beyond the financial property sense - a sense of responsibility to it. My home includes both property owned by me and the more important commons - that which is accessible to all, not privately owned. I will protect it, take care of it, improve it. 

The Earth is also my home - this planet with all of its natural beauty and chaos, side-by-side with human-made technology and structures both wonderful and terrible. I try to stay connected and present to all parts of this home, as well as my smaller home, so that I am aware of how it is feeling and doing. I feel loyal to this much larger home. I have a sense of responsibility to care for it, not to hurt it, to heal its brokenness. I know that I am part of this larger home - embedded in it and dependent upon it - so that what is good for this larger Earth home is in the end good for me and my loved ones.

Tell us about your homes.

In 1973, I was invited to be part of a colloquium panel at Transylvania University - the topic was something related to changing social, familial, and sexual behavior. The question I was to address was whether the changes we were seeing in the mid-60s to mid-70s in the US were evidence of a social revolution. 

At that time, it certainly seemed that things had been turned topsy-turvy. There were frequent allusions to the generation gap, the sexual revolution, the decline of the family. Certain previously disenfranchised groups (people of color, women) were gaining a little more power, rights, and respect. Some of the silent people were finding their voices. 

Based on my limited memory, the 1973 cultural landscape looked different than it had when I was a young child. So were these changes revolutionary? Today, I don't know how in the world I thought that I was qualified to answer this question - I don't feel qualified to do so now. Keep in mind that in 1973 I was all of 20 years old, and that all I knew was what I had lived - a middle-class middle-sized life in the middle of Kentucky! And yet, I somehow gamely took it on.

My response then, as I recall, was that the changes, while perhaps experienced by individuals as revolutionary, were not evidence of a social revolution. A true revolution involves forcible overthrow of all aspects of an established society or government, and a replacement of what is overthrown with something new and markedly different. Power changes across the board are felt. Decisions are made using significantly different processes. New institutions replace old ones. A revolution, in my mind, is an intentional act, a focused movement resulting in pervasive change. What we were experiencing in 1973 felt more like social evolution, incremental changes within many populations and institutions that led to a sum greater that its parts - but these changes were occurring under the same government operating under the same Constitution.

Believe it or not, nerd that I am, I think about this question often as I watch what is going on around me, locally and globally. I think about it as I read and talk with others about environmental issues - climate change, global warming, sustainability, social justice. It feels like there is an accelerating rate of change on this earth in many areas - in information processing and sharing, in levels of consumption of material goods, in changes to the earth. 

Or is it my age, my stage of life, that makes me notice things in this way? I see bubbles of revolutions happening in different parts of the world - think of the spring of 2011 in the Middle East and Africa. But it all also seems gradual and incremental - an overthrow of a government does not result in the immediate establishment of the new government - there is lots to do to get there, if ever, if the old government does not come back and grab power.

In 2008, entrepreneur and environmentalist Paul Hawken wrote Blessed Unrest, his documentation of "the largest social movement in the world." He told stories of how millions of groups of people, from corporations to governments to small NGOs to community groups, were working to address the related issues of environment and social justice. Millions of groups and people across the world, not necessarily connecting with one another in any way, but nevertheless having significant impacts. I think of the recent March on Blair Mountain. Focused change, intentional effort - but not yet revolutionary in a large sense.

Others, like Bill McKibben for example, write about what will happen to the earth and human existence if energy policies, practices, and uses do not change - it is not pretty. Millions of people across the world are trying to do things differently, but the pace of change, of environmental degradation, is so rapid, that it might sometimes feel like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in it.

Are revolutionary acts required to mitigate or reverse climate change, to establish fully sustainable living practices that do not compromise the needs of future generations? What would those acts look like? Or will small but significant and cumulative changes make the difference - whether they be moving to local food production and distribution or dealing with corporate financial influence on the political process? Do individual actions matter? Can the small tremors caused by the millions of people involved in "the largest social movement in the world" result in a beneficent cultural earthquake? Evolutionary or revolutionary?

Another question - do hard changes come only when our backs are pushed to the wall? Like, when gas prices rise to $10/gallon - or when clean water is so scarce that communities fight over it. Or can we effect change when our lives are good?

I certainly don't have the answers. But I think about work done by Canadian psychologist Catherine O'Brien in 2008 about sustainability and happiness. She describes two conventional beliefs that present challenges to moving people toward more sustainable living - one, the belief that economic growth is synonymous with happiness and two, that consumption of material goods results in happiness. And I think about how pervasive these beliefs are in our culture and how they influence our daily thoughts and behaviors - mine included.

I don't think there are easy, black or white answers. I'm just thinking out loud and hoping to hear from others.

Oh. The radish. It's from my garden - just a little piece of my own tiny slow evolution - best eaten, according to Steve's mom, with a little butter, coarse salt, and a crusty baguette.

A new bicycle! Who knew that today's bicycles are spiffier and speedier than the last one that I bought 18 years ago? 8/24 gears vs 7/21 gears, lighter yet sturdier, with blinky lights and saddle bags. I did my first commute to work today - what fun!

So. Shifting gears a bit.... I have been writing a lot about issues of energy production and consumption, and related impacts on the environment and people. I will continue with this soon - I think it is important and I believe that these issues will have an increasingly noticeable effect on our daily lives for some time to come.

But today, I want to talk about wellness - health and well-being - and about some ideas that my friend Leah is thinking about. Leah is a graduate of Chatham's MS in Counseling Psychology program - she is a very competent, bright, and energetic woman. When she introduces me to friends or colleagues, she refers to me as her mentor. A little secret -- this is kind of backwards, as I most definitely see her as my mentor!

Leah has a wonderful job teaching yoga to children K-8 in a laboratory school associated with a university in Pittsburgh. She is thinking about developing a Wellness Program for her students, so we sat down to talk about how to do this. Leah had done some preliminary lit searches, and found that much of the research on childhood wellness is actually limited to studies about how to address childhood obesity - a worthy cause, for sure, but not necessarily representative of all of the aspects of a young person's life that contribute to (or detract from) wellness. Other things we read focused on physical, mental, social, and emotional health - how to eat right, exercise, manage feelings, solve problems, get along with others, learn in school. 

Leah and I talked about our own childhoods and children, and brainstormed about what other domains of wellness, in the best of all possible worlds, might be worth presenting to kids. As we talked, Leah and I realized that we were both intrigued by a more comprehensive perspective of wellness that would embrace a child's ability to live a well-balanced life - weathering ups and downs in pretty healthy ways, knowing when and how and whom to ask for help, understanding one's own gifts and "growing edges" - in addition to the more traditional aspects of wellness described above. For us, wellness is not an end or a goal; it is a life-long process of making decisions, working with others, acting and thinking and feeling. Individuals who have the skills, knowledge, or wisdom to live (or try to live) in such ways will be able to sustain themselves through much of what life throws at them - not avoiding pain, loss, hurt, or mistakes, but thinking and adapting in pretty healthy ways, sooner or later, when they get off-track. 

So we have mental, physical, social, and emotional health, and more vague, but probably also very important, life-skills and self-awareness domains that might constitute wellness. I would probably add a couple of other domains to the mix -- one area of interest to me is that of financial health. What can we do for our children that fosters healthy practices and perspectives related to money, spending, and saving? I would also add something about self-in-the-universe -- that is really not a good way of saying it, I know - but I think it is very cool to parent or teach in ways that keep children's questions about their place in the universe active, that foster imaginings about their purpose in life. Do they feel connected to something much bigger than themselves? Do they have a sense of awe and wonder about life and its mysteries? And finally - probably related to the whole self-in-the-universe thing - I would add something about humans and nature - the place or role of humans in the non-human natural world - again, nurturing curiosity and questions more than providing easy answers.

How does this sound so far? What, if anything, would you add or take out? Is any of this the least bit relevant for you or your kids? Think back to your own early years -- what domains of wellness were you exposed to - directly or indirectly? In school or at home, or both? Did you figure out all of the important stuff on your own? Are there things that you wish you had been exposed to that you were not? Would it have made any difference?

I am curious about whether or not you think that adults (whether in the family, communities, or schools) have the capability of providing a wellness perspective to kids in a way that can be truly beneficial to them. How important are we as models for kids - models of what to be or what not to be? Or are we talking here about life lessons that must eventually be learned on one's own, through trial and error? From a larger perspective, does what we do or talk about have the potential of effecting change in a community? When I post something to my blog, can it make a difference? Or do we live by Darwinian principles, each struggling and adapting on our own, and sinking if we just can't do it?

So much of my identity as a citizen, a psychologist, a professor, and a parent is wrapped up in thinking about wellness, growth, and change in positive ways. I wonder about what helpful roles, if any, I can play in certain situations - by educating, providing feedback, modeling, listening, questioning.... OR by being quiet and getting out of the way - maybe just by being a witness from close-up or from far away. I know that my own wellness has ultimately been my own responsibility - and I also know that I have had witnesses and supporters who have helped me along the way.

So -- I can say with certainty that I learned much from my parents and other adults about health and well-being and the "good life" - working and playing hard, appreciating music and other of life's gifts, taking care of others - lessons that were enriched by my own life experiences, but rooted also in my relationships with these people. I can say with certainty that I learned from their courage and derring-do, and have thus been able to take important risks in my own life. 

And, more specifically, I can say with certainty that I benefited from my dad's time, patience, and energy as he taught me to ride a bike - much easier than learning on my own :) Wish me luck as I head back home on my trusty new vehicle!

According to his parents, Rev. Glenn and Marsha Grayson - and to news reports - Jeron Grayson was a star athlete, a wonderful son and brother, a loyal friend, an excited college student, an inspiring community member, and an aspiring activist. On October 17, 2010, Jeron was tragically and randomly killed, while home from Hampton College, by a young man with a gun.

Rev. Glenn and Marsha have lived and worked for years in Pittsburgh - and have been particularly devoted to improving the lives of young people in their Hill District community. They have founded the Center that CARES  in their neighborhood. The Center that CARES provides tutoring, mentoring, advising, and travel experiences that support and broaden the lives of young people from kindergarten through young adulthood.

How did this extraordinary couple respond to their devastating loss? In typical fashion, they have recently launched a public campaign that urges young people to stay away from guns. The campaign is called "G" Stands for Never Touch a Gun - named after Jeron who was fondly called G. Look for billboards across Pittsburgh with pictures of Jeron. And take some time to view the WQED documentary about Jeron and his parents' work.

Sustainable health and well-being often involves conservation and protection of the natural world - and it also very much involves conservation and protection of the social environment. A healthy community provides safety for its residents, love and education of its young people, and caring among neighbors in hard times, in addition to food and shelter. It provides these supports in ways that can be sustained over the long term, across generations. Marsha, an attorney and a student in Chatham's MS in Counseling Psychology program, and Rev. Glenn, pastor of the Wesley Center AME Zion Church in the Hill District, make significant contributions to the sustainable health and well-being of their neighborhood, Pittsburgh, and beyond. 

The work of Marsha and Rev. Glenn is very important - and it is work that each of us can do in our own way, in our own corner of the world. Think about how you might add to the sustainable health and well-being of your community. Look around for other individuals or groups that you might connect with to do great things. And let us know what you do.