We’re all in the Web

When it comes to a response to the Gulf oil spill and the havoc it's wreaking on animals and the environment, I at first found it easier to push the whole issue to the edge of my mind – or better yet, all the way out; out of sight, out of mind. After all, I don't have to look at dying birds, find oil-poisoned sea turtles, or fear the loss of my fishing livelihood. And with a disaster so big, bigger than me and my ability to fix it, turning a blind eye is very tempting.

I start thinking, "What can I do?" And I realize that all the things I need to do to prevent more such spills are the same things I need to do to keep Nicholai healthy, to prevent cancer in myself and others, to raise strong children, to live to be a hundred, and to help the planet stay viable.

I need to eat locally produced food, much grown in my own garden. I need to forsake factory farmed foods – giving up all my excuses for continuing to buy them. I need to ride my bike more and drive my car less. I need to find alternatives to petrochemicals wherever they occur – in sunscreens and other lotions, in soaps and cleaners, in plastic products. I need to take a long hard look at the phrase "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle" and remember that "recycle" is the last option on the list. Instead of blithely tossing used plastic milk jugs, yogurt containers, and lotion bottles into a recycling bin, setting it on the curb, and hoping like hell it doesn't end up in the giant plastic island in the Pacific; it's time for using non-toxic glass bottles that can be washed and used over and over.

I can pray, meditate, and visualize the healing I want to come to pass, instead of turning away from the pain of seeing, the pain of knowing.

It is a web – me , Nicholai, Joan, you, the people and animals in the Gulf; what I do to the web I do to myself and what I do to myself I do to the web. Whether what I do is enough, I don't know. But I don't have to know, I just have to act – with love and with hope.