Without Changing Our Ways
The ocean don’t care that you live in this town...
Without Changing Our Ways
I wrote my only song (so far) this year last February when I went on a retreat at a friend’s house on Cape Cod. The weather was bitter cold and windy, so I was stuck inside most of the day with not much to do but write. (I know… oh, poor me.) On one walk I did go on, I found my way to the ocean where the houses were built right up to the water’s edge. To my right, there was a house on a high foundation set back from the water. That place looked like it wasn’t going anywhere soon. To my left, a house was down low and close to the water. The surf had carved out a large scallop of shore right up to its foundation making it appear vulnerable, as though it could be swept away with the next high tide. The image of the two houses stuck in my head as I headed back to my accommodations. The next morning this song emerged.
Sue and I have dear friends that live in Naples, Florida. They were among the residents that did not evacuate prior to hurricane Ian’s landfall on September 28th. When the water rose from street level to waist deep in the house in a span of 45 minutes they realized they had underestimated the storm. Fortunately, they were able to escape - treading neck-deep water, tip-toes on terra firma under seventy mile an hour winds - a half-mile to higher ground. Everything left behind was lost or ruined.
Yesterday, The Guardian reported that earth’s wildlife populations have plunged by almost 70% in just under 50 years. If there’s any silver lining at all to this information, it’s that we know these declines are largely due to habitat loss and are not beyond our control to remedy. We also know that small choices made by each of us individually can add up to big changes in the well being of our planet.
This song is as much self examination as anything else - a reminder that I’m not exempt from the equation. My generation (late baby-boomer) is inclined to excess consumerism and it’s a difficult mindset to alter. We tend to do things like buy an electric vehicle to replace the gas vehicle we already have, when the best thing to do would be to not buy a car at all. It’s really hard to change our ways, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do as much as we’re able.
In any event, it’s mid-October now and getting colder. I’m wondering if the bears are hibernating yet. Probably not. Soon as the coast is clear I’ll put out seed in the feeders for the birds. It’s been a few years since we’ve fed them and I miss the activity. Renowned biologist E.O. Wilson argued that human’s natural affinity for life—biophilia—is the very essence of our humanity. Our innate love of nature binds us to all other living species, and we suffer to the extent that we don’t have that connection. The irony is that when it is missing, we’re not aware of the extent to which we suffer. We’re only and simply, diminished. It’s paradise lost.
So…. Excuse me while I go mind some habitat and keep them critters fed.
D.R.
—
Without Changing Our Ways
I always forget / It’s never easy
It’s never that easy / I always forget
Where I go everyday / things that I say
All I think / all that I pray
Without changing my ways
Without changing my ways
I’ve been here before / It’s a deja vu
You smiled just so / said it’s all up to you
We’re hellbent and then / bent beyond reason
But reason me now / and tell me just how
We’re getting out of this mess
Without changing our ways
Without changing our ways
The waves rise up
The moon’s shining down
The ocean don’t care that you live in this town
I don’t want to go / don’t want to run away
I’d rather live my life without changing my ways
But don’t make me out / like I got nothing to loose
For the love of our children / sweet innocent children
Tell me what would you do
To start changing our ways
Without changing our ways
Clouds roll in
The rain’s pouring down
The river don’t mind if you leave this town
Without changing our ways (x3)