On a chilly morning in Boulder, Colorado I sat in a circle with about
34 other individuals as we concluded a weekend of deep talking, deep
listening, and deep feeling regarding the topic of collapse and the end
of the world as we have known it. People began to cry and allow words
and sounds of grief to pour forth, and not only grief, but fear and
rage. My body softened, and tears flowed. Piles of used Kleenex
accumulated under my chair, and I felt the deepest connection I had
ever experienced with a group of human beings in my life, many of whom
had been total strangers only 48 hours before. For several moments I
knew as clearly as I knew that I was sitting in a chair in a room in
Boulder that these fellow humans were my unequivocal allies and that in
a world of famine or thirst, I would never allow them to perish, nor
would they allow me to perish.
But not only did I feel a warm, intimate connection with the other
individuals in the room, but in the pit of my stomach I experienced a
sensation of being profoundly and palpably connected with the earth.
For a moment I flashed on an experience I had over a decade ago in
Yosemite National Park when a friend and I spent a morning in silence
in a secluded meadow. We wandered about, sometimes in close proximity,
but most of the time hundreds of feet apart, feeling ourselves joined
to the grass, the trees, the birds, a quietly bubbling stream, the sky.
While those hours yielded the most intimate connection I had ever
experienced with the earth until that time, I felt something far more
momentous occurring in my body while sitting in the circle. For the
first time in my life I experienced the earth as my family-its
other-than-human members as my siblings, parents, and children.
Savoring viscerally my relatedness to my family, the awareness that my
family is dying because members of my species are killing it, surged
through my cells and opened a floodgate of yet more grief.
But grief was not the endpoint-not the final destination of this
unprecedented experience. In fact, what I noticed is that my tears had
literally cleansed the doors of perception so that I began to notice
and nurture a vision of the kind of world humans are capable of
creating before, during, and after the collapse of civilization. It did
not come from my head or intellectualizing about what would be
politically or environmentally correct. It was unequivocally natural,
pristine, innocent, and real.
Before traveling to Colorado I had finished William Kotke's
The Final Empire: The Seed Of The Future,
and as the experience of intimacy with the earth flowed through my
body, a plethora of images began to congeal into vision. However, the
vision of which I write was not merely an optical phenomenon but rather
something like a symphony of possibilities in which all of my senses
were engaged. The "seed of the future" had been gestating in my
consciousness and body, and it was being watered by tears-my own and
those of the other individuals in the circle, and tender shoots of
opportunity were sprouting.
Kotke writes that "Creativity, balance, adaptability, shared energies,
unity-diversity, transformation, and relationship are modes of behavior
that we find fundamental to life....When we create human culture that
is patterned on these principles and integrated with the web of life
than human thought and action will be consonant with the purpose of
life on this planet."(356-57)
Sitting in the circle, informed and illumined by
The Final Empire: The Seed Of The Future,
I was blessed with an epiphany-one that did not force me to "have hope"
but that I literally gave birth to effortlessly in which I experienced
on a cellular level a principle that was not new and which I've been
privileged to taste and savor at various sea-change moments in my life.
But now, sitting in the circle, as with those other moments, it all
made perfect sense.
Earlier in the weekend, when intellectual engagement was appropriate
and necessary, we considered Peter Senge's Integrating Principle,
explained in his article "
The Leader's New Work," and Robert Fritz's
Structural Tension Principle
which honors the power of creative tension resulting from "seeing
clearly where we want to be, our ‘vision,' and telling the truth about
where we are, our ‘current reality'." As I sat with this principle I
realized that I had been focusing primarily on current reality
virtually to the exclusion of vision. Further, it became clear that
even if my vision is unrealistic, naïve, implausible, and rendered moot
by collapse, it is vital for myself, and for my community, that I
continue to embrace it.
Why? Because from holding vision alongside current reality, creative
tension emerges which allows for the dynamic realization of
possibilities which could not have been created by fixating only on
current reality or on one's vision. "Without vision," Senge says,
"there is no creative tension. Creative tension can't be generated from
current reality alone." Often we remain in analysis of the current
situation to our detriment because as Senge notes, "All the analysis in
the world will never generate a vision."
Conversely, "...creative tension can't be generated from vision alone;
it demands an accurate picture of current reality as well." This is one
reason I cringe when people talk about "preventing collapse" or refer
to those of us who are willing to look deeply into the abyss as
"doomers." They appear to insist on having the groovy, green, good
times rolling endlessly or bypass feeling all of the painful emotions
that collapse quite naturally evokes by quickly supplanting them with
their vision. At the same time, however, staring into the abyss without
vision may be equally unproductive.
In fact, Senge reminds us that:
The principle of creative tension has long been recognized by
leaders. Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "Just as Socrates felt that it
was necessary to create a tension in the mind, so that individuals
could rise from the bondage of myths and half truths, so must we create
the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark
depths of prejudice and racism."
But King was assassinated, and only part of his vision has been
fulfilled. In the case of the collapse of civilization, cataclysm could
result in the extinction of humans, and subsequently, millennia may be
necessary for the earth to restore itself. So why have a vision? My
vision may be nothing more than a pipedream, and if so, what's the
difference between having a vision and taking Prozac? Well, if nothing
else, perhaps fewer side effects.
Damn, This Is Hard Work!
However, as I contemplated Senge's principle, more than familiar to me
from my veneration of Carl Jung, I understood that I need the vision
not simply for "balance" but for the possibility, no matter how slight,
that it might, just might, make a difference. Equally important, my
community needs my vision, just as I need theirs. As Senge explains,
individual visions become shared visions in a holographic or
morphic field where their power has the opportunity to become exponential.
Now while all of this may sound very exciting, I want to emphasize just
how difficult it actually is to hold in one's heart, mind, and gut
these stark opposites-the current reality alongside one's vision of
what could otherwise be. It is easier for anyone, any day of the week,
to become absorbed in either one of the opposites because it requires
much less work, but that absorption also holds much less potential for
affecting meaningful change. Holding this kind of excruciating tension
is not unlike giving birth-enduring brutal pain alongside the reality
that a new life is in the process of emerging.
For me, holding a vision and wanting to fix the situation are two very
different things. As stated in Part One of this review, I have no
desire to repair civilization. In fact, my vision, I believe, can only
be realized as a result of civilization's collapse, and that makes it
much more challenging to keep alive. After all, it's much easier to
nurture our vision when it appears that life as we have known it is
just going to continue indefinitely.
As I've written many times, I have no idea how collapse will unfold or play out, but I have a vision. It's only
my
vision, and like all visions, it may ultimately prove illusory, but I
choose to hold it alongside current reality-firmly enough to produce
creative tension yet gently enough to allow it to expand or adapt.
What I envision as I struggle, and I mean struggle, to hold current
reality along with my vision is a transformed culture, but not without
suffering, before, during, and after collapse. I reiterate my belief
that collapse is both a "long emergency" process with dramatic tipping
points along the way. It will not be a singular event in time. It will
almost certainly bring with it a massive die-off of humans.
Unprecedented economic Armageddon, widespread energy depletion,
catastrophic illness, mindboggling climate change, and calamities that
we may not now be able to imagine will probably be in the mix. Urban
and other highly-populated areas are likely to be decimated, but around
the earth, myriad pockets of surviving individuals and communities will
probably hold-but not without anguish. The individuals and communities
that endure are probably going to be those that have prepared on a
variety of levels for the cataclysm. But, if I'm going to be brutally
honest, I must admit that the wild card is always a nuclear exchange,
and in the light of that ghastly possibility, all bets are off.
Nevertheless, survivor groups are likely to be those that have
consciously achieved a level of food security, community gardens, and
drinkable water supplies. They will have learned some pre-collapse
skills such as permaculture, game hunting, butchering, organic farming,
water dowsing, the making of shoes and clothing, alternative healing
and herbal medicinal techniques, and communication skills which involve
deep listening and truth-telling. Upon realizing that paper money and
government-issued coinage are worthless, they will probably have
implemented their own forms of currency, and they will recall that
during the Great Depression in the United States, hundreds, if not
thousands of such currencies existed.
Because federal and state governments will have dissolved, survivors
will have learned to organize simple but effective local creative
economies. In the face of extremely limited resources they will have
constructed makeshift and eventually sophisticated solar, wind, or
water energy sources that provide minimal power and must be used very
sparingly by the community. They are likely to implement some form of
healthcare, particularly if healthcare professionals, both alternative
and traditional have survived, and were sharing their skills in the
early stages of collapse.
Levels of stress, depression, and PTSD will be unprecedented, and
individuals who have learned some form of meditation or stress
reduction techniques are likely to fare better. Likewise, those who
have learned skillful communication techniques from experience and have
practice in expressing their feelings authentically and compassionately
will not only have an advantage, but may be frequently called upon to
assist those who are emotionally fragile or devastated. It will become
painfully obvious from the first traumas that practical preparations
such as accumulating food, water, and precious metals and learning
survival skills are inadequate preparations within themselves for the
emotional repercussions of collapse in whatever form it takes.
In addition, in order for these communities of survivors to navigate
their daunting transition, it will be imperative for them to retain and
nurture humor, celebration, and moments of mirth. Music, art, dance,
and other right-brain forms of expression will sustain them and provide
release from what will certainly feel like overwhelming challenges.
Some form of heartfelt connection with the sacred or something other
than oneself will be invaluable for these fledgling communities, not
only to sustain individual psyches but to inform the quality of life
the community ultimately orchestrates. Group and individual rituals are
likely to erupt from their psyches and from the earth. Moreover, I
envision pockets of surviving communities where all of the above is not
merely theory but ongoing practice. I imagine that the going will be
very rough in the beginning, but eventually, these communities are
likely to thrive and ultimately blossom as outposts of sustainable,
compassionate, dynamic, creative living where the very experience of
being human itself will be dramatically redefined. Such communities
could very well fashion the kind of world for which all citizens of
empire have ached for centuries, whether or not they were consciously
aware of their longing.
In "The Seed Of The Future," Kotke admonishes us from what was then a
1993, pre-collapse world, regarding our most urgent responsibility:
To be actively mobilizing toward setting up what might be called
‘seed' communities is the really significant action. If people don't
actually get out of the money economy to a significant degree, if they
don't create a new land based culture that aids the earth, all the
other political and environmental efforts will ultimately be
meaningless. (460)
Mobilizing toward setting up "seed communities"? During the past two years of
Truth To Power's
existence, a number of examples of vision have been featured on the
site. It feels extremely important to mention some of those, along with
others that we have not focused on.
Across the United States a number of relocalization movements are
thriving or developing. In addition to the famous relocalization
efforts of
Willits, California, one of the most notable is the
Boulder Valley Relocalization movement and another, the New York metropolitan area's
Local Energy Solutions. Eugene, Oregon's
Sustainable Business Initiative Task Force is working with the city council to create a sustainable Eugene by 2020, and
Rutland, Vermont,
along with a number of communities in that state, is making
unprecedented strides toward food security and sustainability. Also, in
2007 I interviewed
Lisa McCrory and Carl Russell
of Randolph, Vermont-who operate "Animal Powered Field Days" each
summer which highlights the use of draft animals in organic farming.
And, last year in an article entitled "
Ethical Markets: The Exuberance Of What Is Possible" I spotlighted the work of Hazel Henderson, a renowned author and expert on growing green economies. And of course, as
Truth To Power readers know, I have over the years referenced and written about Catherine Austin Fitts's
Solari
model which focuses on financial literacy and "the vision that bringing
intimacy to how money works transforms our world." A tireless
visionary, Fitts has pioneered and prognosticated where others seemed
unable to read the most obvious tea leaves. Much of her forecasting is
now manifesting as economic collapse just as she suggested it would.
As part of my commitment to holding the tension of current reality
alongside my vision, I will continue to spotlight those who are in
Kotke's words "gathering seeds of Natural cultures and the truly
beneficial things created by civilization" and carrying them through
the apocalypse.
The Final Empire: The Seed Of The Future has brought me
an unexpected gift of re-imagining both collapse and rebirth. And so I
enthusiastically recommend it to you; after all, who knows what gifts
it may drop in your lap?
Wm. H. Kötke is widely traveled and published. He is the author of
Garden Planet: The Present Phase Change of the Human Species (
http://www.gardenplanetbook.com/ )and the underground classic,
The Final Empire: The Collapse of Civilization and the Seed of the Future (
http://www.thefinalempirebook.com/
) which has recently been reprinted. He has been a journalist, a radio
script writer, a pamphleteer, a novelist, an essayist, and has had many
articles published in periodicals. He has been an activist in the Civil
Rights Movement (C.O.R.E.), the anti-Vietnam war movement (Labor
Assembly for Peace), a labor organizer and staff representative (SEIU,
AFSCME), Earth First!, and the movement of Native American Resistance.