The Current Debt Crisis--What a Statesman Would Do

I don’t claim to be an expert on the current debt ceiling debate raging in the beltway and now being felt around the world. It is not unlike a hurricane that is brewing off shore with the possibility that a last minute change may spell disaster or relief, depending on several factors, including the unpredictability of chaos. What I do know is that the debt storm brewing, unlike a real hurricane, was man made. It therefore can be unmade. If it had a beginning, it will have an end. One can argue all day about who created it, when it was created, how to change it, or it’s final impact. All those questions, although interesting, won’t change the fact that the winds are starting to pick up outside and those winds are just the precursor of what might be a great storm that devastates many.

The discussions of some in Congress with the weight of rhetoric and ideology are not methods or tools of change, they are the gravitational centers of a polemic mass. They are not helpful as tools of compromise, but are the flags of politicians looking for the votes of the populous or the chance to make a foe look bad regardless of consequence. Populism is great if it is educated. An educated populous should, however, embrace change and the notion that stress and crisis are necessary for growth. You can paint yourself into a corner very quickly with the brush of ideology. When you are drawing lines, you ought look at what’s behind you.

Good decisions are not made for the masses when extreme polarity is at play. This is especially true when the environment is ever changing. When trying to solve an issue, you need to have as many options available as possible so you are not limited lest you cause the brewing storm to cause more damage.

When 9/11 occurred it was unexpected. There were perhaps signs, but the manner and way it occurred was unexpected. It caused overwhelming pain and destruction. Families and individuals were ripped apart in ways that will never completely heal. It also initially caused financial upheaval. The turmoil was unplanned, unnecessary and unwanted by rational human beings. One of the goals of the terrorists who planned and carried out the plot was to hurt us at our financial center or core. They failed. The economy was strong enough to take the impact and a taller building is rising. Though that storm was unplanned, we survived and rebuilt.

Now, ten years later, a financial storm of perhaps greater proportion may soon befall us if elected men and women do not step forward as statesmen, put aside politics and forego the stale and corrupt immovability of polemic ideology. Is it not ironic that this storm is our own creation? No one else caused this but ourselves. We will be responsible for the damage. Did we not elect the officials that are making the decisions? We apparently like the reality we created. We elect and we watch. It’s like Rome in a coliseum. The problem is, however, we will be the ones that get hurt. We are both the gladiator and the slave.

The other fascinating point is that we have been here before. Debt as a percentage of GDP has been higher in the United States. World War II saw higher debt when compared with GDP. However, the stakes now feel higher. For over a 140 years the United States has been the world’s biggest economy and has made the rules for the rest of the world when it comes to commerce. The rest of the world knows this. China knows this. Maybe we are tired of being number one. Being number one has advantages but so does being number two. Perhaps it is less stressful. Perhaps we want to draft off others in the future as they have done. That debate will inevitably arise more focused as China’s economy gains momentum and influence, and possibly overtakes the US in about 20 years. For now, we have a storm to attend to in D.C.

What is needed are people brave enough to see the future as one of possibility and growth. The keys or tools to solve the problem are also the keys of opportunity. These tools to work solutions are relatively simple but it will take calm and self disciplined people to either change course or prepare for the impact. I hope they start soon if they have not already. It may even storm for a while so remaining calm is even more necessary.

Here are some ideas: Place the leaders of the various factions into small groups. Put opposites in the same room. Bring in facilitators, mediators or peacemakers if necessary. Allow these many smaller groups to handle just one of the issues each. Allow them to hear each others positions informally and to actively listen i.e. “What I hear you saying is you don’t want to have to pay for something unless you can afford it.” “What you want is for people to have a job at a company that is not over taxed so it can hire.” etc. These small groups will hopefully build new personal relationships. Let them come up with creative solutions. People are real when they are one on one. They are not when they are 60 vs 225 vs 210 vs 100.

Next idea: Sometimes you have to sacrifice to finish a deal. Sometimes you have to make concessions to make a deal work. It is not perfect, but at least it allows for there to be momentum. If one side gives a little then perhaps the other side will as well. What’s the alternative? Civil discord or perhaps worse. Politics is by it’s nature a short term project. It yields little long term gain. It is thunder without the rain. Statesmanship, on the other hand, is long term and forward thinking. It knows, for the good of others, tough decisions are made for the future. It does not seek to gain another majority in a few months or to create more argument to justify itself. A fool speaks without meaning. A statesman speaks with authenticity and heart. In the next election perhaps we ought to elect statesmen, not fools. One of our best thinkers, Benjamin Franklin, offered this advise to his fellow statesmen on compromise: Be willing to sacrifice, not your principals, but your overwhelming urge to be right. It’s a republic if we can keep it.

Trust, open options, future looking, and the ability to concede when necessary to continue are the keys to the dilemma we face. The deal will not be done by having separate press conferences or by signing a pledge. It’s “We the People.” Just because you can tie yourself up, should you? What if you need those hands because an unexpected fire starts and you need to pour water on it? The deal will be done by true gentlemen and gentlewomen of intellect and heart placed in small groups across small tables. They will needs their hands in order to shake the hands of each other when the deal is finally done.

By the way, I have a new website at: www.intermountainmediationcenter.com
where you can view additional information about what I currently do.

THE LOST CONTINENT OF ATLANTIS AND THE SHOT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD

I have a prediction.  This will not be my last post unless in the outside chance Harold Camping is correct about May 21, 2011, 4pm eastern time to be exact.  Reality has a way of doing it's own thing. For many, it gets in the way.  I suppose the rapture performs a necessary escape for those that want a simple answer.  The world has become too complicated for them and so a magic man is going to come and make it all better.  That will show the other several billion of us or so!  I'm sure they won't have an "I told you so" or, "you should have listened to me" attitude when they reach heaven.  Or will they?  The rest of us will be stuck here on earth trying to work out all the devastation and havoc that judgment day has brought.  Escaping it would be nice but some of us will be left cleaning up the mess.  So what if Mr. Camping is wrong?  Well that's okay because we have 2012 and it's right around the corner. What if 2012 comes and goes, what then?  
 
I have a tendency to listen, actually eavesdrop, on random people that I find along the way.  The other day I was in a Cambridge bookstore and overheard a man who was clearly articulate with above average intelligence explain to the patient bookstore owner that he saw remnants of the Atlantian civilization all up and down Massachusetts Avenue and that somehow MIT was involved and it, along with the military industrial complex, knew all about this. Moreover, in the very store I was standing in was an actual relic from that former advanced civilization. It was a collage "dare he say" that was on the wall that had a distinct Atlantian metal bracket as part of the piece of art.  When the owner pointed out that a friend of his had made the art piece and had given it to him as a gift the Atlantian expert asked whether his friend had any particular knowledge as to where that metal piece came from?  The truth is a sticky wicket. It's hard to identify especially when you are less than 100 percent sure. You see, if what you are espousing is less than 100% truth it is technically not true. You can say it is and perhaps many will believe you and it may even make you feel better but it is only a theory or road sign pointing you hopefully in the right direction. I guess we will never really know the truth about that bracket and whether MIT is using that bestowed technology from Atlantis for good or evil.
 
 
Before headlining a GOP fundraiser, the Tea Party darling and possible Republican Party candidate for U.S. President, Michele Bachmann, told a group of students and conservative activists in Manchester, New Hampshire, "You're the state where the shot was heard around the world in Lexington and Concord."  My ancestors who fought on both sides of that war were apparently wrong when they thought that those shots were fired in Massachusetts, not New Hampshire.  It's probably just me, but isn't it ironic that the Tea Party has a name that goes back to the Revolution and that its main spokesperson doesn't have a clue that Lexington Green is where the shot rang out in 1775?  Most of us would say the man in the bookstore was mentally ill or delusional.  But why?  He believed what he was saying was true.  Doesn't Mr. Camping and Michele Bachmann also believe in what they are saying? Does the truth even matter anymore? What is one to do?  
 
So here is my prediction:  I, and about 7 billion of you will be left here on this blue planet tomorrow. We will still be surrounded with war, poverty, famine, earthquakes, floods, global warming, opportunists, the naive and gullible, naysayers, scientists, skeptics, dictators, followers, con artists, peacemakers, the pure in heart, dreamers, optimists, philosophers, the weak, the afflicted, the powerful, the haves and the have nots, etc., etc., etc.  
 
So what are we to do then? Here is a thought:  Pretend God is coming and let's clean up the place so she enjoys her visit. If God doesn't show up at least your children and grandchildren will be happy you left something for them that you cared about, respected and didn't waste. Another thought:  What if we showed God, the universe, or your big toe that this creation didn't all have to go to hell and that we decided just to have heaven on earth?  Seems more logical to me in the long run.  
 
 

Henry Vane and Gene Sharp Welcome You To Boston

I decided to spend the day with my son Stuart, who is attending Berklee College of Music, at the Boston Public Library. The Boston Public Library opened its doors in 1848 and was the first large library opened to the public in the United States, and the first to allow people to borrow books and other materials and take them home to read and use. With over 30 million different books and A/V materials, that is a great deal of trust put into the public.

When you walk through the giant doors of the library off of Copley Square you first walk into a smaller corridor. To the left is a bronze statue of a Puritan looking man. I have visited this library a few times before but never had I stopped to read the the name on the inscription of the bronze statue. This time as I walked in, I was stopped by a young middle-eastern man who had a small digital camera who wanted his picture taken standing next to the bronze statue. After a brief moment, the picture was taken and he was on his way. I walked over to the statue and read that it was that Sir Henry Vane (Harry Vane) (born 1613– beheaded in 1662), an English statesman, who was also briefly present in North America, serving as a one term Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. I went upstairs to the great hall where all of the oak desks and green lamps are found and began to research Henry Vane. I learned he also helped create Roger Williams' Rhode Island Colony and Harvard College. But more importantly, he was a tremendous proponent of religious tolerance, and the inherent rights of man. After a prolific career as a statesman who spoke without hesitation regarding freedom, he was ultimately beheaded by Charles II for treason. The King didn't like his politics as it undermined his power.

Here are some of the words of Henry Vane:

"The power which is directive, and states and ascertains the morality of the rule of obedience, is in the hand of God; but the original, from whence all just power arises, which is magistratical and co-ercitive, is from the will or free gift of the people, who may either keep the power in themselves or give up their subjection and will in the hand of another." King and people were bound by "the fundamental constitution or compact", which if the king violated, the people might return to their original right and freedom.

Sean Gabb, a British libertarian, notes that Vane was in the vanguard on issues of religious freedom. Although he was "among a small and easily defeated minority", his successors 150 years later "were responsible for the clearest and most solid safeguards of civil and religious freedom ever adopted into a constitution."

James Kendall Hosmer, editing Winthrop's Journal in 1908, wrote of Vane that "...his heroic life and death, his services to Anglo-Saxon freedom, which make him a significant figure even to the present moment, may well be regarded as the most illustrious character who touches early New England history. While his personal contact with America was only for a brief space, his life became a strenuous upholding of American ideas: if government of, by, and for the people is the principle which English-speaking men feel especially bound to maintain, the life and death of Vane contributed powerfully to cause this idea to prevail."

The last several years have brought much change to the world. Technology has provided tools that can connect me instantaneously to someone thousands of miles away. Information is powerful. A power that even a King or a dictator cannot always fully control try as they may. Information creates a leveling effect.

I received an email from Dorit Cypis. A great woman who is the head of the Middle East Initiative for Mediators Beyond Borders to which I belong. At the very moment I was immersing myself in Henry Vane at the Boston Public Library she had sent me an email concerning Gene Sharp that she entitled "Dictatorship to Revolution--the text behind the current social uprisings." What was attached to Dorit's email was one of Gene Sharp's 90 page booklets entitled "From Dictatorship to Democracy--A Conceptual Framework for Liberation" I had recently heard of a Gene Sharp from and article written in the New York Times. It described him as being a shy, thoughtful, elderly man who was one of the primary information providers to the recent populist uprisings, not only in Egypt, but in other countries as well. He has been writing his thoughts for several decades. Amazingly, he is not a big user of the internet nor social media. But when thoughts are as powerful as his, they have a way of of finding and flowing into the river of change. His contribution, like that of Vane has too been a strenuous upholding of democratic ideas: that government of, by, and for the people is the principle which men feel especially bound to maintain. His life has contributed powerfully to cause this idea to prevail all over the world. He lives and writes in Boston.

After the recent events in Egypt that we all watched unfold on CNN one might expect that we could all just simply move onto the next world event as if a box had been checked and Egypt had completed its' revolutionary to do list task. Gene Sharp, in his writings is quick to warn that, "Nor should this analysis be interpreted to mean that when a specific dictatorship is ended, all other problems will also disappear. The fall of one regime does not bring in a utopia. Rather, it opens the way for hard work and long efforts to build more just social, economic, and political relationships and the eradication of other forms of injustices and oppression. It is my hope that this brief examination of how a dictatorship can be disintegrated may be found useful wherever people live under domination and desire to be free."

So now comes the hard work and long efforts. Revolution is not an event but a process, a process that if done correctly continues on and on in the hearts and minds of those who see a better way. May Henry Vane and Gene Sharp welcome you to Boston and to the idea that all people are inherently free and that government exists of, by, and for the people.

Finding Your Melody

My son is leaving. He is on his way out of Utah and taking up residence in Boston while attending Berklee College of Music. To say I am both a mixture of happy and sad is an understatement. One of the things we have in common is our love of music. We both hear it passionately and at least one of us will most likely make a life of music. About 5 years ago, Stuart and I attended a Pat Metheny concert at Kingsbury Hall in Salt Lake City. Pat and his ensemble were debuting his new work "The Way Up" which is a 68 minutes piece in 4 movements. It is jazz, but classical, fusion, but latin, driving, but effortless (here is an excerpt of the introduction of the piece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecz3ykm_TRU

I did not know it at the time I attended the concert but Stuart and I were watching his future. Pat Metheny was the youngest professor to teach at Berklee and has a doctorate from there. The drummer, Antonio Sanchez, is a graduate of Berklee. Lyle Mays, Pat's longtime piano player/composer extraordinaire went to Boston to play with Metheny in the 70's and has been an artist in residence at Berklee ever since. The bassist Steve Rudby has also been an artist in residence at Berklee.

The essence of "The Way Up" is really quite a simple. It is the essence of life. After about 4-5 minutes of of driving rhythm played in multiple time signatures 3,4, 5,6,7, etc., Metheny introduces and plays what will be the main theme basically solo in a two against three feel. He finds the melody of the piece that will be played in various ways throughout the remainder of the next three movements. There is frenetic playing, moments of loudness and softness, chaos, pulsing beats in various syncopated times, variations of themes, counter-variations, thesis, antithesis, synthesis, confusion, sadness, melancholy, tranquility, explosions of emotion, technical mastery of complex equations without emotion (5 against 4 for example), noise and quiet, tension from playing over the bar and floating without gravity.

The true essence of musicianship is the essence of a mountain climb, a journey, a practice, a life's work. It is yes. It is no/know. It is spirit and it transcends you and the physical. At the level of a Metheny or a Sanchez, or a Mays or a Rudby, you are a Master. I suspect they would be the first to tell you, besides the endless amount of practice/climbing they have done, that they really cannot explain where the music resides because that place is sacred and they will not speak of it. At this level, space and time become meaningless. You may see them play it in the physical sense and you can certainly hear it, but as the Master you are inside it, you are it. You become a conduit. God or the Universe takes over. When you ask a Master what the essence of it is they can only point to it and say it is up there. They can only direct you toward the top of the mountain. The way up.

After a total literal climax in the third movement which leaves you tired and unable to think, the fourth and final movement built from previous themes eventually surrenders to a clear and uncluttered flowing stream of that simple melody that was found in the beginning--that melodic journey that had a theme and that found wings and began to soar--at times in double time or warp speed and at other times falling like honey, dripping slow. But somehow all the contrasts are the same. Two notes, three notes, endless notes, played endlessly. They become one. In the end, the melody is just played simply. From it's first introduction it has been through up and downs, has been torn apart and put back together again and again. It gets stuck, gets confused, gets lonely (only few journey to the top and this takes getting used to) and then it simply flows as it finds its way up. Find your melody Stuart and become.

Thanksgiving Wish

Be careful what you wish for. I read a great deal. I do not say this to boast but to make a point. I read primarily American history from the 1600's to the late 1700's. I read about our country's founding and the personalities of the people that played a part in that founding. What I realize from my readings is what little I really know. In fact, the more I read the more I realize I know nothing compared to a Franklin, Adams (both John and Abigail), Hamilton, Madison, Jefferson, Warren, Bradford or a Massasoit. I marvel at the brilliance that these founders possessed. They did not all hold the same notions as to what direction our country should progress but they had one thing in common--a belief that a knowledge of history was essential when proceeding to a hopeful future. They struggled with the concepts of egalitarianism, elitism, and pluralism. They studied philosophy, nature, science, the rights of man, god or the universe, and communicated their ideas thoughtfully, provocatively and with intelligence. They were smart. I suspect on average, smarter than most alive today. I would wish nothing less for our future. What do you wish for?

I am aghast at what I currently see today as politicians, producers of information, and many of those with contrived followings claim as their knowledge in such things and concepts as the constitution, democracy, republicanism, and economics, perhaps after being at a weekend seminar put on by a group with an agenda, after reading a paper drafted by a think tank, or even worse just speaking without having thought. I even feel less secure when a great number in our country seem to put trust in someone that clearly doesn't read literature, have a sense of history and would do reality TV.

We have been blessed and perhaps lucky up until now for the most part. Although there has been many times we have been at the brink of disaster, smart thoughtful people were there to lead and a smart educated public followed. We owe much of this to the people that came before us. It will not always be so however if we do not continue to carry on the work they began and realize that a great republic with a democratic foundation is not worth anything without an informed public lest we become an illiterate mob.

Read a book. Read literature. Read history. Read the Constitution. Study philosophy. Pray. Dance. Chant. Meditate. Do something significant that changes and informs people, especially if it is your family or neighbor. Take time to stop, listen and think--hopefully before you speak. Do you really want an episode of Reality TV or do you wish for something better? If not for you, your children. You can only play a part for so long. The character will inevitably change or be written off the show. Turn the cameras around and show the utter unreality of what is taking place. The last time I spent time with my family I did it without having a director, 3 producers, 10 cameras and trailer that catered food. The truth will ultimately prevail if thoughtful people calmly step forward and conduct themselves from within and not from without.

My Opinion on Climate Change

I am sorry if this sounds a bit like a diatribe. This is only my opinion of what I witnessed. I've been in hibernation since Denmark and the Climate Change Conference. My first sensation upon arrival at the conference was that of dizziness due to the shear drama and the volume of the event. The Belle Center, the facility where the conference was held, was a mammoth structure that easily held 15,000 people from every corner of the world. The large halls within held the leaders of our planet. It was as large a scale of planetary "leadership" as I have ever witnessed. I put leadership in quotes because I really am struggling as to what that is and what is needed for our planet. What I saw was more about process than substance--sometimes a rigged, overly formal petty process at that. I initially thought this may be due to the shear size and possibly the lack of clarity of the climate change subject matter. Arguments between countries would deteriorate into such things as what should be the logo of the next conference or whose delegates were stopped at security and weren't allowed inside Belle due to improper credentialing. This would go on for several minutes of valuable time. This is not to say that there were no caring leaders present. Some, in fact, are the most humble, careful and thoughtful leaders with whom I've ever had the privilege of meeting and listening to. There just seemed to me to be a general lack of leadership and vision as a whole. The fire did not seem to be lit in most of the delegations. There were clear exceptions--the Small island nations, etc., but overall the conference felt like a cork bobbing in an angry sea.

The apartment that I stayed in during the conference was in Christianhavn, a small island oasis away from the masses. My apartment building was over 300 years old and honestly felt ghostly-but in a good warm way. It was simple, quiet and only lit by candles at night. I could see the reflection of my small apartment in the canal below. It was a place to reflect. On my way home, the second Saturday of my work at the Belle Center, I walked home though a march of 100,000 protesters that demanded a climate treaty. It was loud and frightening in some ways outside but my refuge gave me respite. I knew then that the hoped for treaty wouldn't happen, and not due to the protesters lack of trying, but due to lack of clarity of vision inside the Belle Center.

My MBB group held a conference mid-week at the Glyptotek Museum where we invited world delegates to learn about mediation--a practical approach to facilitate positive change--a few actually appeared. This art museum is one of the best I have ever seen. It is built around the personal collection of the son of the founder of the Carlsberg Breweries, Carl Jacobsen. During this outside conference, I had the opportunity one night to slip out from the group and walk quietly around seeing amazing ancient sculptures from Egypt, Rome, Greece, not to mention more modern works by Rodin and Degas. The collection of paintings within its walls, most of which were French impressionists, included Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, Degas and Cézanne. I stood motionless as I looked at Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bonnard. It showcased what the potential of humanity could be and sometimes is. The art was alive and speaking.

For some reason I have been thinking about the American Revolution and in particular Thomas Paine and Paul Revere. As you recall, Paine wrote an anonymous pamphlet in the early part of 1776 that spread among the colonies such that within 3 months over a 100,000 copies were sold. What Paine was saying was far from original. Scots and other philosophers had been saying such similar ideas for centuries. What he did though was to speak in plain language with a vision of the future that was descriptive enough for the masses to understand and be energized about.

Here are some of his words:

“ These are the times that try men's souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated”

I have also read extensively about Paul Revere. Although the story we hear of in grade school is not too historically accurate (the real story is much better), I am always amazed at the fact that one man can have such an impact at spreading the word. It is equally apparent that luck or invisible forces come into play as well. When Revere left his home on the North-end of Boston that windy and damp Spring night, a large British warship, the Somerset was anchored in the Charles River between his hidden row boat and the riverbank by Cambridge to where he would row to his awaiting horse. To make matters worse, it was a full moon and the whole river was visible to the men watching as outlooks from the Somerset. They knew their comrades would soon march and they were told to stop all river traffic at any cost. Thank God Boston has hills. As the moon rose Beacon Hill caused a perfect moon shadow on the watery path that Revere rowed through as he heard the moorings creak and the men talking from the Somerset.

The Chairperson of Intergovernmental Panel On Climate Change or the IPCC, Dr. Rayendra Pachauri, delivered the opening speech at COP15 in Copenhagen on December 7 2009. Here are the highlights:1)Warming of the climate is unequivocal 2)Since the mid 20th century most of the new warming is anthropogenic or man-made 3) Possible disappearance of sea ice by the latter part of the 20th century 4)Increase frequency of hot extremes 5)Increase in cyclones 6)Decrease in water resources in certain ares including the Great Basin where I live 7)Possible elimination of the Greenland Ice sheet which will cause sea level rise of 7 meters 8) Increased risk for 20-30% species extinctions if we warm 1.5 to 2.5 degrees C. 9) Greater flood risk due (although overall less precipitation)but more violent and unpredictable storms. As I said, these are only highlights--it's in some ways much worse. Many in the small islands of the world, including Tuvalu, are already feeling the effects of a rising sea.

Much lately has been said about the accuracy and efficacy of some of the science of the IPCC. It has over 2500 scientists looking at climate change. Sometimes they get it wrong. Recently, they indicated they made a 300 year calculation error regarding glacier melt in the Himalayas. Most of the critics rushed to the conclusion that this error and a few others point the the fact that it is all a bunch of quack science behind climate change. Two thoughts: When that part of the world adds another 1 billion people in the next few decades and the ice is only half melted should that make us feel any better? Should we not care about our great, great grandchildren because they are not here yet?

Heraclitus, the famous Greek Philosopher said something to the effect, "You can not step twice into the same river, for it is not quite the same river nor is it quite the same man." The IPCC will not get their predictions 100% right. Maybe not even 50%. But is that really the point? What if the sea rises only 3 feet? What if the air is only moderately polluted? What if only 10 percent of the species become extinct? On the other hand, what if they underestimated the climate change fall-out and the planet becomes uninhabitable in a few centuries? The point here is one of change but also chance. If it isn't now right in front of us why would you worry and why should you change? There are lots of opinions but somehow truth will still find its way. When will you see it, if ever? We are in a society that confuses opinion with truth and how to deal with the differences.

I have opined previously that effective revolutions take time--a slow burn if you will. The real ones never end, they continue towards a calculus of the vision they sought to create. Slow is the genius. It gives time for people to awaken and be touched by the truth of reality. It gives time to lighten the darkness of the expanding boundaries. It has to be malleable to avoid breakage. Different people will interpret ideas differently. But what the hope is is that the overall community of mankind has a place in mind where we all can reside.

People are born with the potential to make a difference if they have a desire to involve themselves in the flow of the climate revolution. We need to progress in process and substance. Ultimately, the truth of what is occurring exists. Are we willing, as an "only present now population" to take a chance that the future is someone elses problem? Are your thoughts opinions or more truth? Do you know the difference? Are you sure? Are you willing to risk the planet on your opinion or truth? Or would it be better to yearn for a vision of the future that makes our journey together more fluid? Where is our Revere that rides into the night to call out? Where is our Paine who makes it simple to understand and lights the vision?

Step Forward.

CLIMATE CHANGE ADAPTATION

Here is an article about adaptation in a warming world:

La. Indian village holds out against plea to move
Dec 13, 2009 (11:01p CST)
By CAIN BURDEAU (Associated Press Writer)

ISLE DE JEAN CHARLES, La. - AP Video
A day in the life of Edison Dardar starts with a caterwaul of a shout. A yawlp. His chest puffs up: "Yay-hoooo!" Morning cries down the road greet him. "Wa-hoooo!" .... "Yaaaah!" .... "Aaaahh-eee." The Indian fisherman smiles. His cousins and nephews are doing well.

Soon enough, roosters and dogs join the morning chorus, and the island is awake.

"It keeps your chest clear," the 60-year-old barrel-chested fisherman rationalizes. "Over in Bourg, if I did that, they'd probably put me in jail."

Bourg is a tidy Cajun bayou town a few miles north of Dardar's hurricane-smashed Indian village in the marsh where holdout families are being urged to move to by a tribal chief, scientists and public officials.

Why? Because life on this spit of soggy land 6 miles from the Gulf of the Mexico may soon be impossible for the interrelated families with French, Choctaw, Houma, Biloxi and Chitimacha bloodlines that go back 170 years when a Frenchman came here with his Choctaw wife and named the island after his father, Jean Charles.

The road to the island is caving in. Hurricanes are flooding homes more often. The Gulf gets closer every year. Isle de Jean Charles is at risk of disappearing under the Gulf of Mexico.

But to Edison Dardar and his kin, the name Bourg sounds like a prison.

"What am I going to do there? Wake up and look at the road?" Edison Dardar shrugs. "No, not me. I'm not moving. This island is more beautiful than ever. This island is a gold mine for me."

He casts for shrimp at sunset behind his house. Sips coffee at Oxcelia's, his sister's place up the road, in the mornings. Checks in on Leodilla, his blind, 90-year-old mother who's old enough to remember the huts made of mud and grass, or bousillage. His wife, Elizabeth, is content watching old Westerns like "Bonanza" and feeding her chicks. A son still lives at a home they raised on 12-foot stilts after Hurricane Andrew in 1992 flooded the island. It wobbles like Jell-o when someone walks from one room to the next.

With a bad limp from 40 years of backbreaking work dredging for oysters, Edison Dardar hobbles over to a handmade plywood sign on the road through the village. He stands next to it proudly.

It reads: "Island is not for sale. If you don't like the island stay off. Don't give up fight for you rights. It's worth saving. Edison Dardar Jr."

"My son wrote it," Dardar, who cannot read and write himself, says with a grin.

___

From New Orleans, it's a long road to this alligator- and mosquito-infested marsh island. The road goes past the city's outskirts, postwar suburbs and po' boy sandwich shops; it sails across Cajun farmlands of sugar cane fields, moss-draped oaks and roadside watermelon vendors. You must drive beyond the inland fishing towns connected by clunky drawbridges and bayous bobbing with shrimp trawlers and hyacinth.

Push on, and the canopy thins out, the road crosses a levee and enters the wide open expanse of marsh tidelands that run for miles out to the Gulf of Mexico.

An end-of-the-world nausea sets in on the narrow road that rolls across open water toward Isle de Jean Charles. A crooked yellow sign warns: "Water On Road." When high tides and a stiff southern wind combine, the road is slick with water. Half the road caved in after last year's hurricane season.

A gut check hits as the road wends through the island. Half the houses are empty shells, blown apart by hurricanes. Most of the others are raised high on pilings - not for the view, but to keep sofas, beds and Grandma's photos out of the Gulf's regular inundations. The church is gone, the store is gone, most of the children too.

The islanders are living the doomsday scenario that many researchers say awaits Miami, Houston, Savannah, New York: A rising sea at the doorstep.

The village sits outside the main levee systems of south Louisiana, and in the middle of some of the fastest eroding wetlands in the world. For the past 80 years, oil drilling, logging and the Army Corps of Engineers' levee building on the Mississippi River have doomed the island. The knockout is the combination of sea level rise and intense hurricanes.

"In the 1980s, I asked someone to take me to look at Fala, an important Indian settlement, and he took me out there in a boat and said, 'Look down,'" recalled Jack Campisi, an anthropologist who's worked to get south Louisiana's American Indians recognized by the federal government. So far, the Bureau of Indian Affairs has shot down their petitions. "What's at stake is a viable ethnic identity. It's easier to do if you have a federal relationship."

Many tribes moved into the swamps to escape enslavement or forced banishment after Congress passed the 1830 Indian Removal Act. Today, there are about 20,000 American Indians on the coast. Until the 1950s, most Indians lived in isolation with limited interaction with whites. Old timers recall barefoot children scampering into the woods to hide when the first cars rattled onto the island in the 1950s.

Before the coast was overrun by the oil boom and shipyards, the Indians lived off the land, growing small gardens and raising livestock. Fish, oysters, crawfish and crabs were staples. For medicine, they relied on plants. There was "bon blanc" tea made from a leafy plant. Medicinal teas were gotten from boiling "citronelle," "venera," a Houma word for sage, and the bark of the "bois connu" tree.

"We had no running water. We washed our clothes in the bayou," recalled Hilda Naquin, a 95-year-old Houma woman who grew up between mud walls covered in newspapers and under a thatched palmetto roof. "We didn't have much to eat. My grandpa used to plant a garden. Thank God for that. Our oven was made outside with the dirt and mud."

This isolation was imposed, as stories of discrimination attest. Indian children were barred from schools until the 1960s and called "sabines," a derogatory term.

"My daddy couldn't go get a haircut up the bayou. He couldn't get a hamburger in the town of Golden Meadow," said Laura Billiot, Hilda Naquin's daughter. "The prejudices are still there today; not as bad, but they're still there."

___

Albert Naquin, one of two tribal chiefs recognized by the islanders, stands on the sinking road surveying his old village. The sound of water laps at the road and fills the silences between his words.

"They had a small lake over yonder, just north of here. Wonder Lake. Now it's all open water," Naquin says.

He resembles a defeated general surveying a battlefield. The contours of the past - smoke rising from thatched-roof homes, barefoot children splashing in crawfish ponds, fishermen poking through the marshes in pirogues - shimmer on the flat marsh horizon in front of him. But these are only memories now. For him, it's time to move inland and reconstitute the tribe behind the safety of levees.

"We didn't have any money. We lived off the land. We had our own cows, we had our pigs, we had chickens, and they were fishermen, and they also raised the garden. So, during the Depression, we didn't even feel that at all," Naquin says.

The idea of moving to Bourg was Albert Naquin's idea. He's talking with state and federal officials about a $12 million plan to buy a tract of land for 60 homes, in return for not fixing the road.

But his intentions are regarded with skepticism and open hostility by the families that remain on the island. Naquin's family moved off the island after a hurricane destroyed their home in the 1970s.

"Sometimes I feel like Moses," he says. "But Moses had something to go by. I don't have anything. I mean, I'm just an old Indian guy from down here."

He shakes his head. "I'm taking a beating."

Isle de Jean Charles is not the first Indian village to face relocation because of erosion and sea level rise. These factors are combining to force the relocation of seaside villages like Newtok, Shishmaref, Unalakleet and Kivalina in Alaska.

"This is not something that is happening just in Louisiana and it is not something that is theoretical," said Robert Young, the director of the Program for the Study of Developed Shorelines at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, N.C. "If we don't at least talk about relocation, nature will make those decisions for us, and they won't necessarily be the ones we want to make."

Since Hurricane Katrina, Louisiana officials and the Army Corps of Engineers have set about drawing lines across south Louisiana to determine what can and cannot be saved from sea level rise and delta erosion.

"They drew this broad red line, and said the entire area below the red line would be at risk," said Michael Dardar, a diesel mechanic, tribal historian and a leader with the United Houma Nation. "Every major Houma community is below that red line. Lower Dulac, Pointe Aux Chenes, Isle de Jean Charles. Our whole way of life is in danger."

This bleak future has been the topic of a recent series of community meetings, called "How Safe, How Soon?"

And at each meeting, Brenda Dardar, the principal chief of the Houmas, has gone in with the same message:

"We need to make sure that we can adapt, whether it's elevating our homes, building smart or moving to a different location. Our history's important, our culture's important and preserving our communities is important."

___

Isle de Jean Charles may be on the wrong side of the line being drawn across the map of south Louisiana. But defiance here seems immovable. The Dardars, Naquins, Billiots and Verdins aren't going easily.

"I wouldn't move. No way. I don't care if this place floods time and again. Nobody but me is living on this land," says T.J. Dardar, a fisherman and one of Edison's cousins, squatting outside his dilapidated wooden house. It's missing siding, needs a coat of paint; piles of beer cans, burnt trash and assorted junk lie around it. A heap of asphalt shingles, with a couple of television boxes thrown in, slumps into the canal across the road.

Notwithstanding the flooding, dangerous road and declining sense of community, it's not hard to see why people want to stay.

"You can do anything you want on this island - catch your crabs, your shrimp, dry your shrimp," Edison Dardar says. "I see nothing changed, me," he says on a walk through his village. So what, he says, if there is now water where he once saw grass? "We were killing duck (when there was land). Now we're killing shrimp. If you're hungry, you make a living."

Back home, his tangy shrimp are drying on a tarp behind his house. Chickens squawk. He mashes a piece of shrimp between his teeth. "They still need to dry some more."

Time slows down here. The plop of a fish brings a great silence of the marsh. Dardar rests for a moment and the symphony of frogs, bugs and birds comes back.

"Make some good gumbo, jambalaya. Talk about good, partner."

"Leave? For what?" he says.