Interrupted

At the risk of implying prescience, displayed in my last posting, "Heat" on July 6th, I share that I was a heat refugee for 36 hours after posting that blog entry. Yes, I had my own small energy Armageddon here outside my building, where an electric transformer on a pole near my window exploded on Tuesday evening. Yes, exploded, with Hollywood-style pyrotechnics, also suited to July 4th fireworks.

The temperature here in Boston had reached a record-breaking 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The transformer exploded, and the wires attached to it caught fire. No power for many units here in this densely populated neighborhood. No air conditioning. No fans. No refrigerators. No lights.

My upper floor apartment in an antique building heated up instantly when the air conditioner went out. It was unbearable within an hour. Luckily, I had a nearby refuge. The next two days were enjoyable where I was staying. The up side of the disaster is a better and more regular electric current in my building. Apparently, that old transformer was surging anyway. I had noticed irregular current my PC's voltage meter after moving here.

The down side, of course, was dealing with a major utility company. I reported the outage to an electronic voice, who haltingly promised to call me with updates which never came. There was no on line method for reporting the outage or following the progress of repair. They do have on line billing, of course.

I did find that I am a blogger of ritual. Without my shower, yoga and green tea in my own digs, I did not routinely post here for the two days I was away from my apartment. I'll have to work on that. Nothing will make a good thing go stale like ritual. Just ask any lapsed Catholic.

Heat

As the temperature hovers in the high 90's Fahrenheit (30's Celsius), the unsustainability of the modern urban environment becomes glaringly obvious. A culture which relies on oil and coal to power air conditioners, cars and water purification plants is not prone to support a radical change to sustainable energy sources in any big hurry.

Black pavement, dark roofs and an absence of shade trees make the modern urban environment a solar heat collector. This requires greater artificial cooling to maintain human health in buildings poorly designed for hot weather. Not using air conditioning is a choice to sacrifice personal health for no measurable social or environment effect. Frankly, it is masochistic, since the price of an air conditioning unit is equivalent to what most families pay for one month's cable TV bill.

The problem is a big one and beyond the power of single individuals to solve. Industry obviously has no interest in solving it. Government, if constrained by corruption, will not fix it. This is not a hopeful scenario, but it is an accurate assessment of the status quo.

As global warming radically changes the environment with exponential effects of petrochemical addiction, great human suffering is predictable. This suffering will cut across socioeconomic lines. When the technological breaking point comes, there will be no refuge from heat or drought or famine. Only then will those who live in denial of science and history be forced to face the truth. Meanwhile, those us us who see the coming catastrophe must turn to some form of daily practice to maintain our sanity and personal optimism.

Heat

The sudden onset of hot days in the high 80s and low 90s is an opportunity to feel and understand the automatic systems that really keep our bodies alive. We do not 'think' our bodies alive, as much as we like to take credit for our state of being. Turn off your mind by lying down in comfortable and quiet place. You can then tune into what is really happening within the complex cellular machine you usually take for granted.

Learning to find the balance of working within and with the body's machinery is what wellness is all about. It is not easy, if you have been raised in an urban, industrial society. It is worth the effort.

Summer

Eniko, poet/friend,
inspired this.....



Summer has come for an extended visit.
He's sweating on all the furniture and weeps,
in thunderous showers. The plants love him.
The bees and wasps are frantically building.
I sit in my new patio space and watch him.
He seems determined to topple the tall lilies.
Those weepy outbursts and windy tantrums.
When he leaves I won't miss him 'til January.


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