Rewriting the Human Story

Oh, sacred planet.

The terror of climate crisis is a long time in the making. As I read about the mass mobilization
forming around the upcoming U.N. climate change convention, which is
likely to accomplish far too little -- because what's needed is change
at the roots of civilization -- I feel a desperate impatience, a tearing
at my soul. What can I do that's bigger than anger, bigger than a
demand for governmental and corporate entities to make changes they are
essentially incapable of making?

Maybe I can help rewrite the story of civilization, which means unwriting the present story. From the Dark Mountain Manifesto, for instance, here are two of the "eight principles of uncivilization":

"We
believe that the roots of these crises lie in the stories we have been
telling ourselves. We intend to challenge the stories which underpin our
civilization: the myth of progress, the myth of human centrality, and
the myth of our separation from 'nature.' These myths are more dangerous
for the fact that we have forgotten they are myths.

"We will reassert the role of storytelling as more than mere entertainment. It is through stories that we weave reality."

With
this in mind, I think about my family's trip to Yellowstone National
Park when I was a teenager (sometime in the previous century) and the
tourist awe I felt as I gaped at Old Faithful and the gurgling springs
and the incredible vistas of the Yellowstone River. America, America,
God shed His grace on thee . . . know what I'm saying?

We've been
preserving slices of scenic "wilderness" -- keeping them out of our own
exploitative reach -- for 150 years now. What could possibly be wrong
with that?