by Mira Allen
My friend Richy and I sat across from each other as we shoveled homemade beef tacos around the table by candlelight. We discussed the Occupy movement- our connections and disconnections with it. Neither of us wore a scrap of anything designer and I was willing to bet he used the same all-natural toothpaste that I did. We were taking turns tearing apart kale pulled from the fertile Maui soil outside his front door.
We were pretty close to the earth, comparatively. We could rest assured that we were not part of the problem.
“Why don’t you just call it Occupy the Mirror?” he asked. I concurred. From my perspective, that’s what this whole movement could use: a bit of self-reflection. I had been ruminating over my share of the respective blame pie when it comes to… well, I guess when it comes to everything.
Over the last several months, I’ve written about the movement from many perspectives and for many different publications. I’m not a member of any political movement- my youth as an activist has long since passed and my profession as a journalist now would make any sign waving totally unethical. But, I’m still a human.
The evening and the dinner and the conversation put it in perspective. From my corner, the list of demands and general output from Occupy as a cohesive unit (if we can call it that) points to a few commonalities.
The first of these is moving towards a sustainable way of life for the planet. This comes in the form of financial reasonability, environmental sanity, and what I’m hoping is the cessation of peoples’ tendency to be complete assholes to each other for no reason.
I’ll be the first to admit I can be an asshole on any day of the week ending in a “Y”. I can sit around and tell myself that this organic kale and my lack of leather apparel make me somehow better. Hell, I’ve probably really thought that at some point or another.
Occupy members have been known to point the finger at big banks, big business or politicians as the source of everything that is wrong in the world. Obviously there is merit to that. But here’s something to ponder: what is our collective responsibility in this? What is my personal responsibility in this?
The meal I was pushing around my plate was piled high with beef from some unknown factory farm somewhere on the mainland. It crossed my mind that the 15 pounds of grain that it took to produce the pound of cow that we had purchased could probably feed more than a few families for a while.
I don’t see myself as part of the 99 percent. When looked at from a global perspective, I’m pretty damned privileged. I have access to clean water, I live in a place with abundant food and I have a job.
Also, how am I treating myself in a sustainable manner? Back to the beef- I could probably live without it. Along with the vodka and cigarettes. Maybe I could look at the bitterness I harbor for things in my past and try to stop with the cynicism. Maybe I should indulge in cheesy stuff like running around barefoot in the grass more often.
Ask Gandhi. He said “be the change you want to see in the world.”
The dim light still afforded me the ability to check out Richy’s book collection on a shelf over his fish tank. There was a hardback on astral projection and something about shamanism. My initial reaction to such literature was not positive. I don’t believe “stuff like that.”
Another thing that Occupy advocates: question everything. What can I question about my own beliefs or lack thereof? Maybe astral projection is real, maybe it’s not. Who am I to judge?
Dinner was over and we lazily stared at the dishes. I told him I wouldn’t be making myself any more dinners of factory farmed meat. I asked to borrow a book. I wondered about quitting smoking. I looked in the mirror.