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Thinking Small

By Ken Wright

"Don't just do something, stand there!"

- domestic adventurer Jono Schrode

I start my day generally like most other folks: I stand at the island in our kitchen and sip coffee and read the newspaper. In the background, NPR's "Morning Edition" chatters away, and occasionally, when some story of interest bubbles to the surface - I catch a phrase or a name - I tune in and listen.

Because it's good to stay informed. It's important to keep up with what's going on in the world.

I, myself, driven by both work and inclination, perhaps go somewhat further than most people at this point. Over a second cup of coffee, I clip the newspaper, slipping the articles into sorted folders in a cabinet, or filing others closer at hand for some sort of immediate action - a letter, an essay, a discussion, a class, or a follow-up news story of my own.

A third cup of coffee and I'm doing the same - well, cyber-clipping anyway - to several of the blogs, Web sites, and e-mail newsletters I subscribe to or visit regularly.

Because it's even better to pay attention. It's even more important to fight as much as one can to save the world.

That's why every day, at some point during the day, as often as possible and for whatever spaces I can carve from the busy hours, I turn off the radio, I put the computer to sleep, I fold the paper and stuff it under the woodrack, and I step out into my backyard. There, I check out the real news. I go out and I really save the world.

See, for all the keeping informed and action-taking I do or anyone else does in my behalf, here's how I, myself, am fighting to save the world: I travel often, both nearby and faraway, by bike, boot, boat and, if need be, big car, where ever and whenever I can. I meet people. I see places. I sleep out a lot. These trips are always low budget. I frequently wander off the trails whereever I go.

Sometimes my traveling is no farther than to downtown. But when I travel there it's often off the trail, too. I roam alleys. I peek inside stands of trees. I spy the topography and ecology amidst the concrete and other backyards. I talk to acquaintances and acknowledge people I don't know.

I walk, pretty much everywhere I can - and can most anywhere I usually need to go. Often I go barefoot. Or I ride a cruiser bicycle when I'm in too much of a hurry to walk. And when I have to drive, I keep the window down, even if I have to wear gloves and a hat or sunscreen, and I steer toward the back roads and side-byways even if they take a bit more time.

Sometimes, I travel in my own backyard by just sitting and seeing what goes on. When the sun goes down, I have campfires out there. Other times in my backyard, I sit in our hot tub under the cold stars and talk to my wife and kids. Sometimes I sleep out out there, too.

I make the lunches for the kids in the morning. In the evening, we still usually have our dinners together. I cook. I fix things. I clean my own bathrooms on my hands and knees. I play guitar in front of the woodstove in the winter and on the porch in the non-winter. I brew my own beer. Well, actually, I have a neighbor who brews really good beer, but I go over often to help him taste it.

In fact, I do a lot of these things with friends, people who I get together with quite a lot. When we do get together, we share meals, then we go outside and - of course - have campfires, play guitars, soak in the hot tub, and sometimes just sit and see what happens, sharing this space we have carved, this world we have created.

And - most importantly - all of those things I list above, I do with my kids. And neighborhood kids. And with friends' kids. And with our kids' friends.

That's the news I follow faithfully. That's the world I save, day by day.

See, the way I figure it, I'm saving the world by saving my world: my life, and the good things and people in it - the real, tangible world around me that I actually have some control over, more than I do, say, Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Darfur, or Washington, or Hollywood, or the ExxonMobil boardroom, or the atmosphere, or any of those other worlds we spend so much time learning about, keeping up on, fretting over, and taking action to influence.

We save the world we can by paying attention to the world we actually inhabit. By seeing it, experiencing it, engaging it, savoring it, bettering it.

And by sharing it with our kids, by giving them real, tangible, enjoyable lives, day by day. By taking a hand in bettering their presents as much as we work for their futures. Because they will be the ones shaping that future. Because evolution is the real revolution.

See, my wishes are generally like most other folks: Save the world. Save our lives. Save our kids' lives. But to do that, I believe we don't need to wait for new laws, more legislation, better programs, a new leader, a bigger army or better funding. Yes, those battles are important. But to really save the world, we need to think bigger - by thinking smaller.

Think: Town. Neighborhood. House. Own backyard.

Think: Family. Friends. Neighbors. Even oneself.

Think: Days. Hours. Moments. Now.

Because isn't improving and enjoying our worlds and our lives in it, really, when you get down to it, the goal of The Revolution - any revolution? Isn't that what we're fighting for?

I think so. So that's where I do my fighting: On the backyard frontline.