Are These Your Priorities?
Walking my dog tonight I passed a curious object: a little foil pie pan containing a pair of reading glasses and a note saying "Are these yours?" Only in Seattle. I've passed these glasses for weeks. Some neighbor's walked past this little tin on her way home from work, wondering if today would be the day that these five dollar spectacles would be reunited with their long lost, surely angst ridden owner. Some neighbor dedicated her time and energy to finding a home for this tiny bit of plastic and glass. I ask you Seattle: Are These Yours?
Are these reading glasses that you found on the sidewalk one morning your priority? Did you weigh your options for finding their rightful owner? Did you decide after the first week or so, that it was still worthwhile to keep looking for that person who lost their dime-store glasses. Did you post notice on craigslist?
I ask if these are yours, because I too have majored in the minors. I've spent lots of time fretting over tiny little moral dilemmas, building them into major big deal things. I think this is part of our shtick in Seattle, the arithmetic product of (living in a place worth cherishing) X (living under heavy ponderous cloud cover).
I ask you, if these glasses are yours, can you let them go? We have bigger fish to fry. Every day the environmental news gets worse. Ice is melting faster than anyone thought. The scale of the problems we face requires big solutions, clear priorities, There isn't any room for fretting over reading glasses.
When we put the glasses out on the curb, when we fret over paper or plastic, we are meaning to make a difference, and yes, if we all aggregate all of these little things over time it does make a difference. But do we have time for this? I don't think so. I think we waste a lot of time on all of this minutia when there are big things staring us in the face, big ways we can make a difference.
Right now, as we dutifully sort our plastic and paper we're feeling pretty good about ourselves. But the real news is happening in Olympia. Our legislators are deciding on the fate of a set of environmental legislation, legislation that has been blessed by a coalition of twenty environmental groups. These four legislative priorities will have a much bigger impact than our small actions.
That's not to say we shouldn't act responsibly in our daily lives. I'll still use my rain barrels, ride the bus and walk when I can. But the scale of the problems we face demand bigger solutions. We can't be the "ripple in the water" anymore. We need to be the cannon ball. Time for belly flops and triple back gainers. What can you do that is truly effective?
It may make us feel better to put the glasses out on the curb, but I suggest we pause and ask ourselves if our actions come from a place of trying to feel better or come from taking a hard look at our strengths and weaknesses, and focusing on where we can have a real impact. Most of the time that impact will come from tapping into already organized efforts, by reputable organizations.
Washington Environmental Council is one such effort: tweny environmental organizations have duked it out to agree on four legislative priorities. They've made it easier for our legislators to understand and pass a coherent set of laws that we desperately need. Instead of rolling my own volunteer effort, I'm taking a group of people from my church to the environmental lobby day to show the legislators that people of faith, in their legislative districts, care about the environment. If our numbers persuade those legislators to pass these laws, it will wash away hundreds of times we forgot to take our cloth bags to the grocery store.
So next time I'm tempted to volunteer to feel better, I'm going to skip the volunteer part and head straight to feel better. I'll have a glass of wine, or watch stupid TV, go for the straight up guilty pleasure. US Weekly can be truly liberating when viewed as a means to steel us for the hard work of being truly effective. When I volunteer it's because I want to make a difference. I've done enough volunteering to know it's not going to make me feel a whole lot better.
Seattle, go ahead and put the glasses out with the note... for a few days. Then pick them up, throw them in the trash and call your legislators. Or even better, sign up for Environmental Lobby Day.
Are these reading glasses that you found on the sidewalk one morning your priority? Did you weigh your options for finding their rightful owner? Did you decide after the first week or so, that it was still worthwhile to keep looking for that person who lost their dime-store glasses. Did you post notice on craigslist?
I ask if these are yours, because I too have majored in the minors. I've spent lots of time fretting over tiny little moral dilemmas, building them into major big deal things. I think this is part of our shtick in Seattle, the arithmetic product of (living in a place worth cherishing) X (living under heavy ponderous cloud cover).
I ask you, if these glasses are yours, can you let them go? We have bigger fish to fry. Every day the environmental news gets worse. Ice is melting faster than anyone thought. The scale of the problems we face requires big solutions, clear priorities, There isn't any room for fretting over reading glasses.
When we put the glasses out on the curb, when we fret over paper or plastic, we are meaning to make a difference, and yes, if we all aggregate all of these little things over time it does make a difference. But do we have time for this? I don't think so. I think we waste a lot of time on all of this minutia when there are big things staring us in the face, big ways we can make a difference.
Right now, as we dutifully sort our plastic and paper we're feeling pretty good about ourselves. But the real news is happening in Olympia. Our legislators are deciding on the fate of a set of environmental legislation, legislation that has been blessed by a coalition of twenty environmental groups. These four legislative priorities will have a much bigger impact than our small actions.
That's not to say we shouldn't act responsibly in our daily lives. I'll still use my rain barrels, ride the bus and walk when I can. But the scale of the problems we face demand bigger solutions. We can't be the "ripple in the water" anymore. We need to be the cannon ball. Time for belly flops and triple back gainers. What can you do that is truly effective?
It may make us feel better to put the glasses out on the curb, but I suggest we pause and ask ourselves if our actions come from a place of trying to feel better or come from taking a hard look at our strengths and weaknesses, and focusing on where we can have a real impact. Most of the time that impact will come from tapping into already organized efforts, by reputable organizations.
Washington Environmental Council is one such effort: tweny environmental organizations have duked it out to agree on four legislative priorities. They've made it easier for our legislators to understand and pass a coherent set of laws that we desperately need. Instead of rolling my own volunteer effort, I'm taking a group of people from my church to the environmental lobby day to show the legislators that people of faith, in their legislative districts, care about the environment. If our numbers persuade those legislators to pass these laws, it will wash away hundreds of times we forgot to take our cloth bags to the grocery store.
So next time I'm tempted to volunteer to feel better, I'm going to skip the volunteer part and head straight to feel better. I'll have a glass of wine, or watch stupid TV, go for the straight up guilty pleasure. US Weekly can be truly liberating when viewed as a means to steel us for the hard work of being truly effective. When I volunteer it's because I want to make a difference. I've done enough volunteering to know it's not going to make me feel a whole lot better.
Seattle, go ahead and put the glasses out with the note... for a few days. Then pick them up, throw them in the trash and call your legislators. Or even better, sign up for Environmental Lobby Day.
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