I was fortunate to spend a good chunk of my childhood living in an "oil free" environment. Every summer from the age of 4 to 24 I spent at least a week -- if not three months -- living at a very special camp. I learned lessons there which grow more pertinent to modern life by the day.
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| These Folks Were My Role Models. Staff Summer of 92' |
Even the basketball court was unpaved, and all cars remained permanently parked well out of sight. Transportation was limited to walking, biking, canoeing, sailing, or riding horses. We learned how to camp out, build fires, shoot guns, fend for ourselves, etc.
We learned how the natural world works and what roles are appropriate for humans within that world.
We learned how the natural world works and what roles are appropriate for humans within that world.
The staff was almost entirely under the age of 25 -- just kids ourselves -- yet we cared for and mentored over a thousand kids each summer. Most staff members weren't "tree huggers". We were just a bunch of outgoing young folks looking to get away from authority figures and have a good time. The best days of my life were lived at that camp. Together we shared something truly great: a real, functioning, damn-near-sustainable community.
At the end of every summer I'd experience horrible culture shock as I transitioned back into the "Real World" with it's senseless hurry and waste. Heading back home to SE Minnesota, we'd have to drive through the sprawling Twin Cities where the chaos would literally cripple me. Back then I'd think to myself, "Why would anyone in their right mind want to live in a world like this?!"
Now I pity my countrymen for suffering the cancer of consumerism spawned by infinite growth. That cancer is running it's course, and soon many of us will be living some variation on summer camp once again. Hopefully it's not FEMA-sanctioned or populated by homocidal maniacs.
As the lies fall away we need truths to replace them. Hopefully these simple observations from my years at camp can help your lifeboat weather the storm. Please share your own life lessons in the comments section.
Communal meals build community. Scheduled community meals are a great way to share information, make friendships, and build a sense of belonging. They're also a great way to get everyone out of bed and active in the morning. Back at camp, if your cabin slept in through breakfast you got cold oatmeal and ridicule. In a post-oil world I imagine many people will want to sleep in. Scheduled breakfasts are a great way to get the members of your lifeboat up and on the same page.
Never underestimate the power of a bitchin' party. Every summer the staff would spend a week training and getting to know each other before the campers showed up. The community was usually cliquey and awkward until after we'd all gotten drunk and rowdy together. After a solid night of good-natured debauchery we would form a cohesive group. The lifeboat that smokes together jokes together. The lifeboat that drinks together thinks together... just do so in moderation or you'll sink together too.
Making music together creates shared meaning. Sing off key, dance poorly, beat on an old oil drum, whatever. A community that makes noise together grows closer together. After a while you might even make some good music. I think Mike Ruppert's band, The New White Trash, showcases the importance of music to a lifeboat. If he's got time to make music, you've got time to make music.
People grow quickly into responsible roles. At camps around the country, it's amazing how quickly young adults pick up the reins and run with their role. In my own experience, there were, of course, exceptions, but for the most part people who seemed needy, whiney, or incompetent in the "real world" quickly adapted to the needs of our rustic little community. Anyone who couldn't make the transition was fairly easy to spot.
Lead by example. Everyone hates a tyrant. Unless it's a life or death situation, it's worth your while to tactfully guide the members of your lifeboat. Nothing causes more strain on a community than a dictatorial leader. Even the best intentions are lost in an overbearing delivery.
Teach with humor. Nothing defuses nerve-wracking situations like a properly dropped joke. Keep smiling, nurture your sense of humor, and laugh every day... no matter how bad life really is.
Necessity is the mother of invention. Back at camp things fell apart every day. With minimal tools or training someone had to keep the place running. Every disaster got dealt with eventually, and we got along fine. The more problems you solve, the better you become at problem solving. Plan as far ahead as you can, but don't stress too much over foreseeable but unlikely problems. Build a bridge when you get to the river.
Kids work hard if you make it a game. In a world without TV, cell phones, and video games dealing with children used to those toxic luxuries is equivalent to herding cats. The same holds true for adults so used to the "real world" that they barely function in reality. People unaccustomed to hard work will learn quickly if it's at all fun or rewarding. One thing kids are exceptionally good at is collecting fire wood.
Daily bathing is overrated. Back at camp, we'd have a contest to see which staff member could go the longest without a shower. Even when we did shower, it was a one or two minute ordeal because the water was rarely anything but freezing cold. On a year long sailing trip I went months at a time without a proper shower: daily dips in the ocean served me just fine. If I wanted to get really clean, I'd lather up and then dump a gallon of fresh water over my head. All good.
Think of how much water and energy is wasted every day in the "real world" for unnecessary and excessive bathing. A lifeboat that wastes these crucial resources unnecessarily is not a sustainable lifeboat.
Electricity is not essential. At summer camp we got by with minimal electricty. On my sailing trip, I went for months at a time with no electricity at all. Even if your lifeboat can generate it's own electricity, try to minimize your dependence on it and use it only when you need to. It is very useful for applications like pumping water, emergency lighting, etc. but it's generally a luxury most of the time. Waste not, want not.
Cell phones and the internet can make you stupid. At camp we had no cell phone or internet service. Though the cell phone and internet can be very useful tools, they can also debilitate you. Both can inhibit your creativity and problem solving skills. Also, they can cause information overload and a tendency to focus on things frivolous to your actual real world needs.
The internet is a great tool for sharing information and learning about collapse, but the real growth and preparation necessary takes place in the real world. Limit your computer time and minimize your dependence on cell phones for maximum reality.