Now that I've gotten through most of my grief about peak oil, I have discovered a quality of poignancy in my life. Almost every night, as I snuggle under the covers, I give thanks for my warm house, for my meds, and for the power that turns on the TV, phone, and computers. I am grateful for my car and the gasoline to drive it, the food in the grocery store, and the roads that enable me to get there.
I believe that a time will come when I won't have such luxuries, so I try to appreciate them as much as possible while I have them.
Then when the accouterments of civilization are gone, what will we have left? Each other.
In the mean time, I am so grateful for the peak oil community, that I am slowly getting to know. I am grateful for the oil professionals that put their careers on the line so that we would learn about the problem. I am grateful for the people that took this understanding and have made it their life's work to educate the public and support us in preparing for it. I am grateful for the grass-roots activists who are making changes. I am grateful for you.
I believe that a time will come when I won't have such luxuries, so I try to appreciate them as much as possible while I have them.
Then when the accouterments of civilization are gone, what will we have left? Each other.
In the mean time, I am so grateful for the peak oil community, that I am slowly getting to know. I am grateful for the oil professionals that put their careers on the line so that we would learn about the problem. I am grateful for the people that took this understanding and have made it their life's work to educate the public and support us in preparing for it. I am grateful for the grass-roots activists who are making changes. I am grateful for you.
