My Delicate Footprints

No moment is promised in life. Not one sunrise. Not one sunset. Not one hour. Not one minute. Not your next breath. All of these things are contingent upon this assumption that the Earth will continue supporting life in the presence of overwhelming abuse. I realized last year just how grave the state of our planet is.

I live in Los Angeles. A notorious smog haven. When the lockdown began in March of 2020, my life as a resident, and as a nurse shifted. At work I was immersed in death, but I noticed something beautiful too. In the absence of people on the roads, the sky cleared. And I mean It was stunningly clear. I could see the mountain tops. I saw more animals gingerly exploring the land we had usurped for ourselves. I could exist in nature without a plethora of antihistamines. I could see the Earth healing itself. Oh, how I could see.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. We are the problem. Humans are the parasite that if purged, the Earth would heal. Alas, life continues, but I was changed. I can’t change the world, but I can change MY world. I can’t surgically repair all the wounds humanity has inflicted on the planet, but I can protect her from further injury. I vowed to start making a difference.

Starting with where I live. I moved from a more residential Lake Balboa to Sherman oaks. My current neighborhood is walkable, and I leave my car often. I walk to the store. I walk to restaurants. I walk to my spin classes. Each physical footprint I leave, is a carbon footprint I don’t.

Next, I started supporting small vegan businesses. It is not a secret that dairy farms contribute to a plethora of carbon emissions. I haven’t garnered the discipline to quit eating meat, but I can stop wearing it. I purchase vegan soaps, vegan shoes and vegan clothing. I intentionally seek out small businesses. I do so because larger corporations notoriously don’t care about the damage their business inflicts on the environment. The rich are convinced that their money will save them, even as their coins are washed away by rising sea levels. Foolishness. Small business has carbon footprints as well, but I am willing bet my bottom dollar but they aren’t as wasteful and callous as larger corporations. The only language corporations understand is the language of money. A breath stolen from a corporation is a breath breathed into the dying Earth, and I am here for that robbery.

My next baby step was speaking up and encouraging others to make changes too. No one likes to feel like they are being lectured, so I’m sneakier with my activism. I gift those around me with goods from small businesses that they use daily. Consistently, the goods are of better quality than found in chain stores, and now they have started seeking out those goods for themselves. I started sharing coffee from a local shop at work, and now my co-workers have started purchasing their beans. I use a French press instead of a coffee maker. And I use water from my filtered pitcher instead of single use plastic.

And finally, I opened the windows and let the sun in. After working in public health for so long, I developed a general dislike of people. My time at home was often spent with the doors, windows and curtains shut, with the a/c on. When I saw the skies clear, I chose different. I opened the curtains. I traded electricity for sunlight. I traded frigid mechanical air, for the plentiful winds coming through my open window. I traded lamps for candles.

All of these are baby steps, but every great journey as an adult had to begin with the steps of a child. These choices matter. These choices have value. And I will keep racking up those baby steps until they evolve into a journey of healing for the Earth.

There are still so many changes I can make and I’m excited to do so. I seek out and align myself with others doing the same. Mark my words, these steps will matter one day.

Peace and Healing,

Tara