On the Edge

Yesterday I read an unnerving piece on Truthout by Tom Englehart here that chronicles the severe droughts now afflicting multiple parts of the world, particularly Atlanta, Southern California, Mexico, Turkey, Greece, and Australia. All of these droughts are breaking historical records, and all are a long-predicted consequence of climate change. Englehart poses a very hard question, particularly with regard to Atlanta, which, unless it rains a lot, is due to run completely out of water in 80 to 120 days. The question, which nobody else wants to ask, is "What then?"

What indeed will happen if the faucets and toilets of Atlanta, a sprawling metropolitan area of more than 5 million, simply stop running? Englehart describes it as "Katrina without the storm"--a vast, unprecedented flood of desperate, thirsty refugees headed north to wherever there is water--the affluent in their SUVs, the poor...however they can. This could get ugly fast.

This article left me, yet again, with the sinking feeling that we are on the edge of a global apocalypse, a worldwide dieoff and breakdown of civilization that could happen far faster than anyone imagines. Without oil, we cannot drive; without electricity, we cannot light or heat our homes--but without water, we die--within 2-3 days! What if this vast, sprawling suburbia in and around Atlanta were to become a vast dying and killing field, with dessicated corpses everywhere and roaming, predatory gangs ready to kill for a glass of water; ready, even, to suck blood? The mind reels.

The Bush regime, of course, would seize upon its long-awaited opportunity to impose martial law and absolute tyranny--with Blackwater goons wandering the streets with impunity, shooting people on sight (especially poor, Hispanic, and Black people) to protect the beseiged fortress-communities of the super-rich, with their privatized water supplies. The flood of northward refugees would overwhelm the economies of surrounding areas, quickly spawning vigilante law among the trigger-happy southerners.

I could continue in this dark vein, imagining the horrors awaiting us as we run out of water, as oil prices skyrocket, as social order disintegrates, and as democracy yields to tyranny and repression, as we are left with a few shrinking islands of fiercely defended wealth in a growing sea of violence, destitution, and death. It all may happen, sooner and faster than anyone imagines, especially if Atlanta and other overpopulated, over-sprawled cities start running dry.

This is where my practice comes in, yet again. When these dark moods afflict me, I turn first to the Five Remembrances:

1. I (and Gaia) am of the nature to get sick; there is no way to avoid getting sick;
2. I (and Gaia) am of the nature to grow old; there is no way to avoid growing old;
3. I (and Gaia) am of the nature to die; there is no way to avoid dying.
4. I (and Gaia) am of the nature to lose everything I cherish; there is no way to avoid total loss.
5. My actions are my only true possessions; they alone shall live on, beyond the death of my body (and Gaia).

These Remembrances, practiced sincerely and mindfully, can free me from all fear. The future may be full of horrors, but the present is all there is, and I therefore take joy in the beauty and wonders of the present moment--the classical music on the radio, my lovely wife in her Bob Dylan Tee Shirt, knowing full well that all this--in fact everything--is impermanent--and that the horrors of the future may not be avoidable, but can be mitigated, to the exact extent that I stay present, taking care of everyone and everything, and abandoning no one and nothing. Gaia will recover and live on--and the Universe will go on with its unfolding--whether or not America, or the Industrial world, or my own body, or even humanity and all the rest of the current, vertebrate biota in this incarnation of Gaia, all perish...