If you haven’t made plans for Earth Day, April 22, it’s still not too late. Even if you’re reading this after the 22nd, you can still do something positive for the Earth this week.
I’m old enough to remember the very first Earth Day, April 22, 1970. I was in 7th grade. The promotion for the first Earth Day far exceeded my involvement. I was more excited about wearing my new Earth Shoes, the new and innovative footwear designed for the big day. In my world, environmental concerns were a problem for somebody else, somewhere else, like in Los Angeles, with their smog, or in far-away India, with their water pollution.
My actions to help our planet came much later, not from activists for the environment but from the monks at Gethsemani and their lives lived by the Benedictine regimen of ora et labora: “prayer and work.” In his Rule, St. Benedict made a bold statement in his chapter, “On the Daily Manual Labor.” “Then they are truly monks,” he wrote, “when they live by the labor of their hands as did our fathers and the Apostles.”
I’m genetically programmed with a natural ineptness for doing anything artistic with my hands, but I figured I could maybe plant a garden, something about which I knew absolutely nothing. The garden would be “the labor of my hands.”
You might say, the Earth grew on me; I finally got to know it. The digging, planting, weeding, harvesting connected me with this planet in a way I’d never known. I found myself wanting to protect the Earth from those who are okay with abusing it for their selfish benefit.
I’m certainly far from perfect; I’m a bit conflicted: I still drive a car; I have a house with heat and air; I fly in airplanes when I have to. You could probably find a host of inconsistencies in my commitment to green living.
But I am trying to preserve the planet as best I can.
And so can you.
You may not be able to live like a homesteader, but you can do something.
You can recycle. I started this years ago, and it’s not complicated or difficult. You gather up your recyclables and take them to a recycling center unless, of course, you’re fortunate enough to have someone pick them up for you. I’ve taken my grandkids with me to recycle, playing Peppa Pigs tune, the Recycling Song, as we go. They made a game of throwing the trash in the recycling bins. And now they know what it is to recycle, one way to be kind to our planet.
You can plant something. You don’t have to plant a vegetable garden, although that would be wonderful; simply growing a plant, even one inside your house, is a positive action.
You can use non-toxic cleaners in your home to help the environment by not putting toxic chemicals in the waterways.
You can buy less plastic and when you do use it, make sure you recycle it.
You can conserve water. My son and I installed a rain barrel that catches the fall-off drainage from the roof of our house. I use that water for the garden and plants. You may not be able to do that, but you can stop letting the water run while brushing your teeth or washing your hands, and you can stop using the toilet for an ashtray or garbage can.
You can use a compost pile. I have three composters that feed my garden. My grandchildren go to the composters with me. My granddaughter takes one look and says, “Yuk,” when I open them, but my grandson loves to check it out with me, mainly to see if there are any crawling critters in the pile, I suppose.
I know that’s a small start, but even small actions can collectively make a big difference.
Look at the benefits: you are leaving something better for those who come behind you. You’ll have the assurance that you’ve been a steward of what God has given. You’ll feel closer to the Earth, and that can give you a deeper awareness of yourself, and you will have gained an increased love and appreciation for your surroundings.
Now, that is something that will surely outlast even the best pair of Earth Shoes money can buy.