Climate Change by Any Other Name

 Whether you call it global warming or climate change, there’s no question that the planet’s climate is changing.  The Arctic Sea ice is melting and heat records seem to be set with shocking regularity. According to NASA, 2012 was the ninth warmest year on record since 1880 and  eight of those years have occurred since 2000.

As the Arctic melts, sea levels rise and since most of South Florida is about three feet above sea level, it’s no surprise that our beaches are rapidly eroding. But what about cities disappearing in Florida?

This evening, I ran across an article in Huffington Post entitled: 14 Cities That Could Disappear Over the Next Century, Thanks to Global Warming.  The first two cities on the list are Miami and Fort Lauderdale. These are followed by: Boston, New York, Atlantic City, Honolulu, New Orleans, Sacramento, San Diego, Los Angeles, Charleston, Virginia Beach, Seattle, and Savannah. Here, in a Rolling Stone article, is one author’s depiction of a future Miami. It’s set in 2030, when our daughter will be just 41 years old.  In the online article, there are links to an overview of other U.S. cities, which is equally startling.

Usually when I read articles about climate change, I remember the predictions of Edgar Cayce and the information that author and researcher Helen Wambaugh gathered for her book Mass Dreams of the Future.

But when I read the Huffington Post article today, I was reminded of something far more personal. Decades ago, when I was between jobs and living back at home, I dreamed that I was on a small boat, rowing frantically toward what I hoped was the Bahamas. Tucked into the space behind me was a waterproof bag of some kind that contained food, supplies, a few belongings.

In the dream, I knew that the South Florida peninsula had been inundated by rising oceans and that my only hope of survival lay in getting to the Bahamas. In real life, the idea is absurd; many of the Bahamian islands are maybe a foot above sea level and would be inundated before South Florida.

But dreams have their own sort of logic, and this one made such an impact that I remember it all these years later. I remember the taste of desperation, the salt spray on my face, how it stung my eyes, how it tasted on my lips. I remember how the muscles in my arms ached. I remember my profound fear. I remember that I was completely alone, that none of my loved ones had survived.

In the years since I had that dream, it seems that the consciousness of humanity has both risen – and plunged in terms of our concept of the impact our presence has on the planet. When our awareness has risen, we have bought ourselves a bit more time, or perhaps nudged the time line closer to an alternative. When the collective consciousness has plunged in awareness, then pendulum has swung in the opposite direction. I believe in the Many Worlds theory of quantum physics, that for every choice we make, there are perhaps an infinite number of alternatives that are created, and some part of us – our souls- is on every single one of those paths. Our focus, intent, beliefs and desires determine which of those paths we follow in the here and now.

Back then, I told a friend about this dream and she laughed and said it was just a reflection of my current situation. I was unemployed, forced to move home when I lost my job as a children’s librarian, and the economic climate sure didn’t favor landing a job in my profession – as a librarian or teacher. But intuitively, I felt I was being shown a possible alternative for something larger than just me or my situation. And the message was clear:  sink or swim. Accept it – or do something about it.

So when I saw this list, I was struck by the sight of Miami and Fort Lauderdale as the top two names. We used to live in Lauderdale, we’ve spent a lot of time over the years on Miami’s South Beach. We now live 15 miles inland, but this isn’t much of a consolation if these predictions come to pass.  In one novel I started and couldn’t finish, the Florida Keys and South Florida were little more spits of land connected by bridges. Life was a struggle under a repressive government. This novel freaked me out and I think that’s why I haven’t gotten any farther with it than I have.

I’m not sure what the answer is or if there’s even an answer at all. Every day, I experience weird weather anomalies for this area– mango trees that bloom too soon, and produce  so much fruit that a lot of it just dies on the branches; extreme heat; an excess of rain; too many frogs at the wrong time of the year. Many of the signs are subtle, and some of them are so blatant and in my face that it’s staggering.

I think of the Blade Runner world in the movie based on a Philip K Dick novel. I think of that strange and disturbing movie, Soylent Green, or The Hunger Games. These Dystopian depictions of the future may actually serve a purpose in that when we see the movies, read the books, we are so horrified that our consciousness somehow shifts. And when the consciousness of one person shifts, there’s a ripple effect; I feel what you feel, we feel what others feel.

So maybe that young woman rowing toward the Bahamas wasn‘t just about me; perhaps she symbolized us, humanity, moving toward something better, more sustainable, and ultimately more egalitarian. I sure hope so. I hope that we and our daughter and subsequent generations choose alternatives that are progressively more sustainable. Otherwise, we’re all going to be in these stupid boats, hoping to get somewhere fast.