I first read Thoreau’s Walden and Civil Disobedience (the two are almost always printed together) in 1969, my junior year in high school.  The pages stunned me with they’re  truth, seemingly leaping from the little paperback and imbedded itself in my psyche as an earwig into the brain of  a Rod Serling character.  I could not stop thinking of the criminality of the Western European/American lifestyle even as I basked in my veritable, teenage, middle-class paradise; the rewards of my parents post depression hard work and sacrifice. 

Our lifestyle at that time would not be considered opulent by most contemporary standards yet there was a larder full of food, fashionable clothing, automobiles (even for teenage sons), Christmas mornings stacked with presents and vacations and day trips to numerous and sundry destinations.  So, it was through the eyes of the hypocrite that I viewed with distain the treasure that my parents had laid up for themselves; for while Walden clearly changed my perceptions I would not have willingly given over these creature comforts without a still stronger outside influence. 

More than three decades later I still would not give up many of the similar comforts I have laid up for myself.  And yet Thoreau’s words still gnaw inside my brain, urging me to live the life I know I must. 

It’s the consumerism, of course, that I fight against even as I make my choice of automobile based, in part, on shiny vs. necessary; even as I make my choice of clothing based on style vs. durability. 

But, twelve years ago things, necessarily, began to change. I bought a tiny house in rural Southeast Texas.  The neighbors hoped someone would tear the little ramshackle place down and build something far more opulent.  Sadly, for them I didn’t have the resources to do either.  Instead, I began repairing the place a little at a time.   

Mostly, I had to use recycled or discarded building materials. Projects that should have taken a week took a month or more.  But, as the little house began to, ever so slowly, look more and more presentable and become more and livable, the use of recycled and discarded materials became ever more important to me as a badge of honor of sorts. I would revel in finding a discarded two-by-four with only a few nails to be removed.  I would jump at the opportunity to tear down someone’s old shed so I could reuse the lumber.  I purchased many new to almost new to kinda new items from the Habitat for Humanity re-Store.  But rather than feeling embarrassed or even ashamed by such scavenging, I found in it a sense of pride.

Still, it wasn’t enough, as the arrival of Hurricane Rita pointed out to me in the summer of 2005 and Hurricane Ike put an exclamation point on in 2008.   

I realized I was dependent.  I relied upon someone else for much of my own survival. Someone else supplied my electircity.  Someone else supplied my food. And, still someone else my water.  

This, to me, was an unacceptable circumstance.  Therefore, it was the hurricanes that finally provided me the impetus to move to a more sustainable, more self-reliant form of existence. 

I made a list, at least in my head, of those things I would need to survive should society and its ability to move goods and services from one place to another, for whatever reason, begin to breakdown. And set about building and acquiring those things. 

The list, in chronological (more or less) order, goes something like this: 

I learned to bake my own bread. 

I built a chicken house and bought chicks. 

          (I also now keep ducks and geese which provide eggs, meat and 

         fertilizer.)

 I started a recycling program in my community.

I use cloth bags for shopping instead of paper or plastic.

I started a worm farm for fertilizer

 I bought trees and shrubs which now produce food;

          grapes, black and blue berries, satsuma, orange, lemon, lime, apple,

          pear, peach, plum, pomegranate.

 I planted a garden of tomatoes, peppers, squash, beans, and zucchini. 

I acquired two female pygmy goats, which provide milk and cheese. 

I learned to make wine (from my own grapes...I’m getting better at this) 

I learned to make jams and can summer crops.

 I bought a safety razor and stopped throwing away plastic ones.

 I learned to make my own toothpaste and washing detergent. 

I started a water catchment system and now store 200 gallons of free water.

         (T he next step is to raise that total to 1,000 gallons and connect the

          system to the house plumbing) 

I acquired two large crane batteries and a solar panel. for power.

I was gifted a bee hive and I went out and captured a swarm of wild bees which are now happily making honey and wax. 

I am in the process of constructing several small wind turbines to help the solar panel charge my batteries.  

So, you might ask, how is all this civil disobedience?  Well, in a society driven by consumerism; in a culture of more, bigger, shinier, flashier; in an era that honors style over substance; not “buying” into those ideals is indeed subversive.  If everyone did as I am doing, the national economy would collapse around us.  I believe such a collapse would be a good thing both for the environment and for the populace.  Yes, some would suffer.  Mostly, those who accept a paycheck for producing nothing would suffer. It would hurt those who have convinced us that a particular article is worth striving for, not because it is of a better quality than another but merely because it is stylish. It would cause suffering to those who convince us that one rock is more valuable based upon its shininess. It would pain those who are desperate to conceal that the Emperor Consumerism has no clothes. 

Perhaps, there will be a mass revelation and we will all realize that consumerism exploits the poor and enslaves the middle class.  Perhaps we will all realize that consumerism only benefits the wealthy and widens the gap between the haves and the have-nots. 

Do I expect such a social turnaround?  Not likely.  However, there is a possibility that a strong wind could in fact blow away our economic house of cards and we as a society would be forced to reevaluate, retool, regroup.  In the event of such a downturn in our economy while many will be looking to others to “please” provide them with the necessities of survival; I will have food, water, shelter, electricity and knowledge. 

Am I crazy?  Maybe.  Am I a fanatic?  Some would say so.  Am I obsessive?  I’ve been called worse.  But, there’s an old Chinese proverb: 

 “Is it not already too late if one waits until one is thirsty to begin digging a well?”