Happy Birthday, Harmony

By Harmony Susalla

Today, November 21, 2058 is my 90th birthday. When you turn a new decade it tends to make you reflect on past “big days.” Tears well in my eyes as I remember my 40th . . .

It was 2008 and the U.S. had just held one of the most contentious Presidential elections imaginable between Barack Obama and John McCain. We all know who won … but then it was a still BIG news.

The debate about whether climate change was real had finally given way to the realization that we indeed had been poisoning the planet with our out-of-control CO2 production. We were all over-stuffed. Our closets, garages, storage units, minds and bodies were full and no one was happier for it. In fact, our things had not just stuffed our homes, our landfills were also maxed out. For every one truckload of product we were producing 32 truckloads of waste. This was NOT sustainable and we finally were comprehending that. The planet wasn’t ours to dominate. The planet didn’t need us; we needed it. What a shift!

It was as if one day we collectively woke up and realized that our “better living through more things” not only hadn’t delivered on its promise, it had actually caused the increasingly quick and sure demise of our planet.

What happened? Well, it’s hard to pinpoint an exact event. Just like the problem, the solutions crept into our psyche slowly. For instance, one day a few short months before my 40th birthday, I realized I didn’t have to worry about the war in Iraq, terrorism, or the failing economy. Those problems were beyond my control. But if I focused on my own actions, I could effect change. I began carrying a metal water canteen, carpooling as much as possible, buying organic food from our local farmers, and using fabric shopping bags. Like the Mississippi that starts as a trickling stream and ends up a gushing river, the changes became bigger and more dramatic. I began to assess all of my actions and purchases with new conscientiousness. I noticed that everyone around me was also migrating in this direction. The mighty dollar had lost its luster and in the vacuum remained this sense of collective global community.

Oh, and those melting polar ice caps? An internet-based global solution took care of that. Around the world, people in every community sewed together those noxious white plastic bags, then we floated them in patches on the oceans to reflect the light—as the ice had once done. As the ice returned we slowly were able to roll up those “fabric” reflectors. With six billion people each pitching in, it was amazingly quick, simple and easy.

Well, I better go. My family and friends are here bearing the now normal gifts of friendship, conversation and time together. I have to say I don’t miss unwrapping presents or receiving more stuff at all.