Dreaming of Possibilities

I just finished a book about Harlan and Anna Hubbard, a couple who chose to live a simple life on the banks of the Ohio River. Written by Harlan, Payne Hollow details how the Hubbards lived their day-to-day lives: building their home mainly from scraps offered by the river and the woods; foraging, gardening and raising goats for food; chopping wood; canning; doing laundry by hand.

Harlan has this to say about their choice:

"To buy bread and coffee, beans and bacon from the store and pay for such inferior provender...does not appeal to us at all. We catch fish for our own eating, get all our living by as direct means as possible, that we may be self-sufficient and avoid contributing to the ruthless mechanical system that is destroying the earth" (page 162).

* * *

As I pulled into a gas station the other day, my son asked why I was supporting this particular company. "They had a spill, Mom."

"True," I replied. "But every gas company is guilty of something. And every time we buy gas...every time we buy anything...we're guilty as well.

I am guilty:

This morning, I picked out my produce at the grocery store, sliding celery and broccoli and parsley into long plastic bags. I grabbed a package of noodles that I could easily make on my own. Olives and pretzels and salsa and cream...With each item that went into my cart, I felt myself more and more dependent upon those corporations I claim to despise.

For Christmas, we're getting our youngest a cell phone, allowing him a degree of independence, yet further enslaving ourselves to technology.

The long-term effects of cell phone use are still unknown.

* * *

I see that the fracking companies are petitioning to use the Ohio River to ship "wastewater" headed for disposal in injection sites. When there is a river accident, this water, laced with five hundred unknown chemicals, will be released into the river, jeopardizing plant and animal life and contaminating a supply that serves millions.

Advertisements on NPR encourage listeners to think about it in terms of natural gas production.

I've thought about it.

I'm not interested.

I'm not interested in giving in yet again to big businesses who always get what they want, without concern for long-term effects.

I'm not interested in permanently removing water from the hydrological cycle.

I'm not interested in more injection wells.

I'm not interested in seeing the Ohio River destroyed.

Again, Harlan: "With the removal of an old landmark, a tree, a building or a person, the character of the countryside deteriorates. No amount of improvement can make up for the loss; there is never a change for the better...This will be the landscape the rising generation will know, and they will not understand what has been lost" (page 160).

Harlan wrote this about a friend who'd recently died. He could easily have been writing about the Ohio River he loved.

* * *

I want to live the life of Harlan and Anna. But I'm not sure I have the courage. Can I turn away from Christmas presents and plastic bags? Natural gas and the internet? Can I give up a lifestyle of comfort and convenience and leisure--empty things upon which we place too much value?

I'd like to dream of possibilities.

I'd like to think about it.

I'd like to try.

Destroying the Ohio River will destroy the Hubbards' dream.

It will destroy my own as well.

This was written for this week's Yeah, Write Linkup.

Kelly Garriott Waite on Google+