Fear and hope during America's financial crisis
I’ve been thinking about fear lately. It’s been around a lot—economic fear, fear of violence, fear of an energy crisis, fear of the future. And in thinking about fear I’ve begun to see that it is one of the most destructive forces in our world. It is fear that ultimately fuels the chants of “drill, baby, drill.” It is fear that keeps us working jobs that compromise our values and fuel the destructive economy. It is fear that keeps us from risking peace.
When I think of fear, I think of a woman I met in Chicago more than six years ago. I was working to get people to sign a petition against invading Iraq. She had just come out of the El station, and she stopped as I asked her to sign the petition. She hesitated, and said “I’m not sure.” I gave her a short fact sheet about the UN weapons inspection process and why the US should support its work and not interfere. She looked it over and turned to me. “I wish I could sign,” she said, “but I’m just so afraid that they are going to attack again.” I could see the fear in her eyes as she said this—a deep, crippling fear that kept her from taking any risks or making any choices other than the one she perceived to be safe.
It is that kind of fear that is now gripping many in our country. We are afraid of economic collapse, we are afraid of high energy prices, we are terrified of terrorism, we are afraid of something different. And everyone from doom and gloom environmentalists to NRA gun fanatics plays on these fears.
But what we are seeing is cracks in a system that is not sustainable. In those cracks we are offered an opportunity to see new possibilities and embrace something different. There may be destruction, there may be hardships, but there will inevitably be new life and opportunities, even if it is only a blade of grass breaking through the abandoned Wall Street sidewalks.
I sometimes daydream about a future when the techno-industrial economy has completely fallen, and I barter eggs for vegetables and hunt squirrels in urban neighborhoods. I think about how a 747 might make for a pretty good living space once flying is too costly and all the planes are grounded. I think about what life would be like if we all had to walk or bike or ride an animal everywhere. I know that there would be a lot of suffering that would come along with this crash, but there is a part of me that can’t wait for it all to come tumbling down. If only we could choose a different way of living without having to endure a crash.
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