I know that my past few posts have been bleak (see here and here), but now I must temper that sense of despair with some hope. Things are bad, and will probably get worse, but that’s not to say that they will not get better.

But here’s the trick: we all have to stop relying upon someone else for solutions. Forgive me if I sound like a politician for just a moment: we must “be the change” we want to see in the world. I cannot tell you how to solve the peak oil problem, or the unfolding economic collapse, or climate change, or the corruption which has become endemic in our political system– you have to figure it out for yourself. I’m not selling a prepackaged kit which contains all of the answers, and I would probably distrust anyone who was.

But that’s precisely why I still have hope. If we are going to make it through the challenges facing us, we must learn to pull together again as a community and actually attempt to create our own solutions. There can be no more delegation to those in Washington. We cannot afford to wait for decades as they attempt to muster the political will to combat the flood of money which has so damaged our electoral and political processes. We simply don’t have time to fix the system that’s been damaged beyond repair.

As Dr. Michael Mills of Loyola put it:

Generally it is healthy to be optimistic. But optimism can be deadly if it produces a Pollyannaish denial of real problems. We should not ignore problems by assuming “someone else” will take care of it, or that “the market” or “technological breakthroughs” will always come to the rescue in time.

Those who are learning about Peak Oil for the first time often go through at least a few of the 5 stages of grieving (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), and often begin to see the world in a whole new way. Katherine McMahon is a clinical psychologist, and she explains how she felt upon learning about Peak Oil:

As I looked around, I began to see the world with a ‘before and after Peak Oil’ view. I would say to myself “We won’t have that around anymore after Peak Oil.” The more I looked around, the more things I realized would go, like plastics or bananas. The more I looked into becoming more self-sufficient, the more awe I felt. How ‘easy I had it.’ I realized how ignorant I was about skills that were commonplace in my grandmother’s era. At times I became overwhelmed at the amount of information I don’t possess. I got dizzy trying to figure out what I needed to know, what I needed to store, and what would continue to be available to me for a long time to come. I watched myself go through a wide range of emotions. I went through periods of denial, and attempted to find believable critics. My commitment to changing my life would wane. I would work diligently on a permaculture project, and watch my spending carefully, then “forget” and go out to dinner or buy something useless. I’d feel hopeful and elated, followed by feelings of depression and worry. I’d become busy and determined, only to find myself overwhelmed and frozen later in the week. My actions seemed ‘irrational’ to the pre-Peak Oil mental health professional in me, and looked ‘crazy’ to those who were unaware, disinterested, or rejected the concept of PO. But not to the Peak Oil Shrink in me. I wasn’t insane. I was trying to come to grips with a future cultural transformation that was to be so dramatic, so overwhelming, it disturbed my equilibrium and challenged my very sense of reality. It was normal for me to want to talk about what I learned to those I cared about. But how? How do you tell those you love that their entire world view will soon be overturned? No one likes to hear bad news, but this news was catastrophic. I decided that I would talk to them calmly, share only bits of information, and based on their responses, decide whether or not to keep the conversation going. Some friends instantly understood the concept, and were eager to read more about Peak Oil. They were in the minority. Others were willing to be supportive of me, but had no intention of doing anything differently themselves. Still others refused to even discuss the issue with me once I introduced it. The more urgently I wanted to share, the more rejecting they became. I searched the Peak Oil sites and the internet to find out more about the kind of feelings and reactions I was having. I found people talking about their own individual reactions to learning about Peak Oil. I’d read: “Ya, I know, I went through the same thing when I first heard…” and I’d think, “Yes, I felt that way, too” but none of my colleagues were talking about it. No one was saying “That’s a normal reaction to learning about Peak Oil” because nobody knew what a normal reaction was. In fact, as a psychologist, I know what my Pre-Peak Oil reaction might have been if a client began to describe ‘the end of the world as we know it’ and all the action they were taking to mitigate the impact. Several diagnostic categories would fit neatly. I’d ask about their family life, and how they were getting along at work. I’d want to learn what led them to this dreary view of their future.

So if you were shocked by learning about Peak Oil, or if you are still in the “denial” phase, know that you are not alone. Others have been there before you, and many more will come after you as the collapse becomes increasingly apparent.

Even in the movie Collapse, which is undoubtedly one of the darkest movies I’ve ever seen, there are glimmers of hope. At one point in the movie, Mike Ruppert, the star of the documentary, says that he wishes everyone could see what we [those who are aware of Peak Oil] see. The opportunity presented by Peak Oil is amazing, and it’s already bringing out the very best in people. Peak Oil devotees are creating a world with more social justice, with more environmental responsibility, with more community and local support– and they are having fun along the way.

New movements are finding momentum in the midst of the collapse. “Transition towns” are popping up around the country, seeking to create communities which are truly sustainable. The open-source movement is not just for software anymore– “Open Source Ecology” is a movement “dedicated to the collaborative development of tools for replicable, open source, modern off-grid “resilient communities.'” There are websites with detailed preparedness and planning information, there are books and e-books dedicated to the subject, as well as online forums for discussing and commiserating about the problems and opportunities facing us.

Whether motivated by concerns about the environment, awareness of Peak Oil, or due to economic constraints imposed by being one of the new “permanently unemployed”, many are finding that frugality and a return to traditional skills is extremely rewarding. Blogger Dave Eriqat calls it being “reborn”:

Planning for the “collapse” these past five years has utterly changed my life, for the better. It has weaned me off the consumerist model of living, taught me what’s important in life and what is not, learned me what is good and what mistakes to avoid, such as getting into debt. It has forced me to embrace austerity and scale down my expectations, which has taught me how to live a good life without consuming and spending. In a sense I feel as if I have been reborn, but with the wisdom and experience to “start over” and build a better life. I wish everyone could enjoy a similar awakening and renaissance in the coming years, although I know the sad reality is that most people will probably face an arduous struggle for which they are unprepared.

I second his emotions, and also want to express how deeply rewarding and satisfying it can be to take responsibility for one’s own life in new ways. Many people are finding that a simpler life with a focus on quality (of experience) over quantity (of consumer goods) naturally gives them a more complete life, with an increased sense of their place in a community. Several months ago, I responded to a survey on the topic of lifestyle changes in response to climate change/Peak oil. Those results were released this week, and there is much to be hopeful about. While acknowledging that there are some barriers to change, there are tremendous benefits which also accrue:

The good news is that it hasn’t been all hard times for these lifestyle leaders. Many changes have made their lives better, like adopting a low-energy and local diet, gardening (which was frequently described as “fun”) and walking and bicycling more. More than three-quarters of respondents reported greater happiness satisfaction or personal growth since embracing new ways of living.

An amazing 68% of respondents had begun a garden in order to produce their own food, a statistic I’m extraordinarily happy to be a part of.

The joy of having spaghetti in the dead of a frigid Midwestern winter made from sauce that my wife and I personally canned, made from tomatoes that we personally grew, is rewarding and fulfilling in a way that a jar of grocery store sauce never could be, especially when I see headlines like these:

The farmers that I have come to know as I’ve become more involved in the local foods movement are genuinely great people. Their enthusiasm for the quality of their products is infectious, and I never have to worry as I see recall after recall of factory foods announced.

Given that the problems facing us are so intertwined, perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that the solutions are heavily interconnected as well. Consider some of the benefits of adapting oneself to the reality of Peak Oil:

Keeps money in the local economy

creates local jobs

you know you should be eating more fruits and vegetables anyway, why not make sure they’re delicious, organic, and safe too?

diminished carbon footprint

increased sense of community

decreased consumerism

increased self-esteem

There are many more benefits, and I’m realizing new ones all the time. Our new insistence on eating healthy and local foods has led to us cooking more meals at home. We can easily double the recipe, and then we have food to take to work for lunch, saving even more money. All this money saved has enabled us to choose only premium ingredients, which have an unbelievable impact on the quality of the meal. I may be biased, but I believe the quality of the meals that my wife and I make rivals that of the finest restaurants. Well, maybe not the finest restaurants in the world, but certainly the finest in Omaha! So turn off your TV, start a garden, learn to cook, ride your bike to work, or take any of hundreds of steps which will serve you well whether Peak Oil is truly here or not. You may just find that you develop a new appreciation for the “quality life.”