Author: jennynazak

If I had a do-over, what would do in my life, that I have not done? Or what would I not do? This reflection is prompted by various threads I’ve appreciated lately in Deep Adaptation, SC-FIRE, Transformative Adventures, and other Facebook groups where I hang out for deep serious conversations about what’s up on the planet and how we face it.

What would I not have done? Well, plenty of things; most of us make mistakes. In my life I have committed some transgressions I consider to be quite grave. And I have made amends to the best of my ability and understanding. Some were sins of commission; many others were more sins of omission (not being there for the people I love most; not giving of my time; hiding my struggles which might have offered my loved ones a useful reference point for weathering hard times and coming out actually better off than if everything had always been easy; shrinking from difficult-but-needed conversations).

There is something I feel I have not finished making amends for, that I am still working on. Since I have done my “bucket list,” I guess I would call my not-yet-atoned-for sins of omission — things I should have done but did not do — to be sort of an “anti-matter bucket-list.”

I love my work (self-employed sustainability educator / climate communicator), and have no regrets about my career path though it has been challenging in many more ways than one. And I have fulfilled any other aspiration I had that might be described as a “bucket list” item.

One item was, crazy as it might sound to most people, to live in a little camper in an RV park. I got to do that starting back in 2000, when I lived in Austin and was getting divorced. I moved from the house I shared with my husband at the time to the coolest little urban RV park. And I lived there for 10 years, loving it the whole time til my Dad’s sudden passing, which prompted me to reflect on things, and in 2010 I moved to Daytona Beach. Dad’s passing made me realize I had been carrying around this intention that I was going to live by the ocean “someday” — and at almost 50 years old, I asked myself when the heck was “someday,” and what better time than now? So, I am now living what was my big main remaining bucket-list item, and I love it every day.

Bucket-list things I got to fulfill as a younger adult: Travel overseas. Live and work overseas. Learn other languages. More recently: Write a book.

My last item on the bucket list was learning to ride a motorcycle, which I have been doing over the past couple of months with a little 2006 Honda Rebel 250! It is so much fun! And is boosting my balance and coordination; and is imparting rich lessons about how joyfully rewarding diligence and persistence can be. A thing I have only caught onto relatively recently in life.

(Eco footprint note: My motorcycle rides have used about 2 gallons of gasoline since October, and I factor it in to my carbon budget.)

Well, I do aspire to write other books, definitely including some fiction, so I guess I still do have a bucket-list after all. So, I’ll just keep writing and painting and building community and trying to help more people navigate their own paths to inner peace and happiness.

What I would NOT do, that I did til it was too late, is put off difficult conversations with family members, mainly my Mom. Really I would have tried so much harder to communicate to her that I was (am) engaged in respectable work, which was and is: raising awareness of urgent planetary issues so we might have time to act before it’s too late for all of humanity; and showing people how they could live abundantly while also doing good in the world. That I was not, contrary to her perception, just bumming around haphazardly; not just following purely recreational whims just because I was out there in various places in the world, and because I was finding it most effective and rewarding to do my work thru a mix of channels (painting, writing, public speaking, teaching — solar cooking; a summer art camp on a farm, etc.) instead of having a “proper office job.”

I would have told her that my choice of career path was (is) a deep calling, had been incubating in me since really quite early childhood, was (is) absolutely non-optional to me, and was directly motivated by my love of fellow humans and our beautiful planet. And, that that love in turn was a direct reflection of the values that she and Dad imbued us kids with growing up. As was my pursuit of art, writing, and other supposedly “not secure” paths. My first art teacher was my own mother! And she was the one who first put into us kids’ heads that we should live our own lives and aim for the stars. I would have reminded her of that, and thanked her so much.

I shirked other difficult conversations with her too. Basically what it all boils down to is that I would NOT have given up trying to communicate how much I loved her and valued her insights. One specific, I would have found a way to convey that I wanted her to please follow her doctors’ advice about self-care so we could have her with us for a much longer time; that I wanted to spend the rest of my life deepening my connection with her; that I wished she and I could talk more about real things and not just the weather.

Building on the lesson of what I would NOT have done, I’m doing my best to break the ice and wade into the waters of beyond-surface conversations with the people I love who are still here, while we are all still sharing this gift of our existence on earth together. And maybe this post will help some of you who might be navigating this kind of stuff too. Ah, how much we hang back in the safe zone when we think we have time!

Further Exploration:

• For having the “difficult conversations” with family members who are in serious, end-of-life-type medical situations: Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, book by Atul Gawande. Dr. Gawande has written some excellent articles on this subject as well. I loved this book and encountered it at just the right time to have potentially helped my Mom live longer or have more peace or both, but I didn’t feel confident enough to bring things up to my Mom by myself. I tried enlisting another family member to help me by reading the book, but they were not receptive because I presented the book in a timid manner without enough explanation for why I wanted them to read it, and I gave up way too easily. It came down to not really feeling my opinion was valid. Don’t give up! If you feel something could really be for the good, go ahead and speak up; risk being thought of as offensive or crazy or flaky. What’s the worst that could happen?

• On holding your own, taking yourself seriously, not losing sight of the fact that your work is honorable and useful, your viewpoint is valid, etc.: I had studied and practiced all this stuff for decades, in countless hours of therapy, books, courses, etc., but maybe for some of us it’s a task that requires ongoing maintenance. I probably needed to just keep a notebook handy or something with a reminder of good stuff I had done, ways I was helping to make the world a better place. Ironically, even throughout this time I was out there doing things in my professional life: teaching classes, giving public talks, being asked to serve on boards, writing and self-publishing my book, and stuff. But deep down I think I still bought into some assessment of myself as “kooky” and not a real professional and not worth taking seriously. What can I say: Do as I say, my friends, not as I did! Here’s a short video I posted on my YouTube channel a couple weeks ago: Beware of Labels — Don’t Sell Yourself Short.

The following I wrote in response to a post by someone who’s exploring what their future travel might look like and seeking other people’s take on this topic. Some of this I have said before on this blog, so it may be repetitive for some of you. FWIW though in case some of you might find this helpful:

I traveled a lot for work from about 1995-2010, including a few international flights. At one point I took 11 cross-country flights in one year! (I live in USA.)

Other than my parents’ funerals I have not flown since 2010, and have taken a pledge not to. A few years ago I retroactively purchased carbon offsets (Gold Standard) to offset every flight I could remember taking in my adult life. I don’t delude myself into thinking I could literally zero-out every negative impact of my travel, but I wanted to do what I could.

Now I travel by train or bus to see family or friends once or twice a year. It’s enough; I savor every moment and take nothing for granted.

I love “traveling” on foot or by bicycle in my own city and region. Always new discoveries.

Probably if I lived in Europe I would have walked or bicycled and taken trains all over the Eurasian continent, and might never have set foot in a plane, but who knows.

I still might walk or bicycle around the USA someday.

I wouldn’t want to deny anyone the joys and learning experiences of travel, especially people who have never gotten to travel. (I grew up in a military family so travel was woven into our lives as we moved to a different place every couple of years, and drove across the country to get from one assigned place to the next.)

Back when I was in my 20s (I’m 60 now), I flew to the UK and stayed there five wonderful weeks, traveling around by train and bus and foot. At one point in my planning I was tempted to do the “American thing” and cram every European country into my itinerary, and rush around, but I realized that held no joy for me.

Also as a young woman I got to live in Japan for five years (teaching English). During that time I was able to travel all around Japan by train, bus, and foot.

In retrospect, there were a number of trips I took (by plane and also by car) that probably did not significantly enrich my life or anyone else’s. If I had a time machine I would choose differently. Carbon offsets, and choosing differently from now on, are the next best thing.

I do love experiencing other countries and cultures but have been able to satisfy that by exploring images and reading online. And also, believe it or not, by participating in groups like this one where there are people from all over the world. The main appeal of travel for me has really mainly always been talking to different people and seeing how they live, what everyday life is like in different places. And I don’t have to leave my place to experience that.

On New Year’s Eve, I immensely enjoyed the Deep Adaptation Zoom gathering, which was worldwide and lasted 24 hours. You could wander in and out all day as your time and sleep schedule permitted, and that’s what I did! It was lovely talking with so many people from various countries in realtime. And I love seeing what the insides of people’s homes look like also. Each person’s Zoom screen is like a really wonderful animated postcard.

One choice I have made in my life was to decide to move to a place that offered the type of physical setting I loved most and would be happiest to wake up to every day. For me, that is a city by the beach. I moved here at age 50 and have built close ties here with my immediate neighbors and throughout the city and region. Honestly I rarely feel the urge to leave, except to visit my family. My favorite trip is the 3-minute walk to the ocean, over the small rise of the dunes at the end of my street.

Every place is prone to one kind of disaster or other, and I have emergency evac plans in place, and have friends in other cities I could make a life with if I need to leave here (and they know they have the same offer from me if they need to leave their places).

In October I bought a small used Honda motorcycle which I ride around on short trips for pleasure. I’ve used about two gallons of gasoline so far and I account for it in my carbon budget.

Someday I might get a wild urge to ride all the way to Miami (about 500 km). If I do that, I’m sure it’ll feel like an epic adventure. Then again, I could walk or bicycle there, which would be even more of an adventure!

Versions of this question constantly pop up in my feeds and inboxes; it’s on many people’s minds. Most recently it was the coastal version. Someone’s house is just above the current high-tide line, and they ask, “Should I move? Or will food shortages and other chaos cause more problems first, before the rising sea level?”

My answers:

I live 3 minutes’ walk from the ocean, in the city where my heart is.

Various kinds of disaster will be everywhere in the world. ARE everywhere, now, already. I’m as worried or more about the intensifying droughts and wildfires (happening all over, and possibly someday here, sooner rather than later) as I am about sea-level rise.

My answer to the question of where to live comes down to being in a place I love, with people I love. No use picking the safest place (whatever that even means anymore) if I’m not with people I love, in a place I love.

In a neighborhood and community where I feel I can contribute, and want to. To ease suffering; to maybe bring a bit of joy to the lives of people around me. At the end of it all, the most important thing to me is community. Living in a place that I care about enough to … care about! Care for the land, the water, and all species including my fellow humans.

Ask yourself: Where is your family located. Your friends; your loved ones; anyone and anything you LOVE (including some place where you feel an attachment to the terrain, the trees, the nonhuman inhabitants). Move there. Or, talk with your loved ones and make a plan together. Community is so important, and we in the rich nations have tended to overlook that. I could never be happy just being in a safe place (whatever that is anymore) on my own, or with just one other person. Need community.

And regarding food issues: Granted, coastal areas often have poor soils and a lack of fresh water. But here, we have good ag land just a couple miles inland; we just have to stop the deforestation and stop trashing our waterways.

And, for now, we still have ample rainfall. If we don’t stop the deforestation, rainfall patterns will be disrupted (it is starting already, quite severe in the spring and early fall each year). The coastal vegetation that used to catch moisture and contribute to rainfall has almost all been removed. And, an “aesthetic” of excessive mowing and “cleaning up” our soft shaggy coastal dune landscapes has taken over.

I also keep trying to encourage more people to collect rainwater. It’s a habit we need. I collect it in the wet season (which is increasingly narrow and extreme), and use it through the dry season.

Also note: Humans can grow food in the most extreme circumstances, just about anywhere you can imagine, as long as there is water. The main ingredient in food resilience is community. Everyday people have to band together on the neighborhood, city, regional level. Working with our local governments to the extent that government is willing; otherwise just moving forward together on a grassroots level.

Further Reading:

• Temporary Empty Shelves Are Not a Supply Chain Crisis, It is Important to Understand the Difference (Sundance; theconservativetreehouse.com): “These notes … are all precursors that show significant stress in the supply chain. Once these issues are consistently visible, we are going to descend into food instability very quickly, sector by sector, category by category.” Good rundown; go read. The part about the milk jugs just blows me away. Stories of Main Street being gutted and “improved” by Wall Street.

• I Lived Through Collapse. America Is Already There (indie.ca; medium.com): “I lived through the end of a civil war — I moved back to Sri Lanka in my twenties, just as the ceasefire fell apart. Do you know what it was like for me? Quite normal. I went to work, I went out, I dated. This is what Americans don’t understand. They’re waiting to get personally punched in the face while ash falls from the sky. That’s not how it happens.”

I’m still unpacking the riches! Both tangible and intangible. As a repeat participant in the festival, but only my first time there as an actual author, I am truly honored and humbled by the support that my little book and I received from my fellow authors/creators/entrepreneurs, and from friends who stopped by the festival to shop and enjoy. I have made some wonderful new friends, and also deepened my connections with not-so-new friends and colleagues.

During the two-day festival, I sold EIGHT copies of my book! (Two of them were to friends by mail order, since they live in Texas.) This is more copies of my book than I have ever sold in such a short period of time.

Now, as you know if you have heard me talk or have followed this blog for a minute or more, I do not use numbers and money as my sole criterion of success — or even my top-ranking criterion of success. But. A girl has to pay her bills, and I am not going to pretend not to be delighted by the sales. And even more, by what the sales represent: the fact that my book, my “baby,” has eight new readers! Eight beautiful human beings whose lives my writing will (I hope) enrich and abundify!

As I often say, the F.R.E.S.H. is a crown jewel and one of the things I brag about, regarding my adopted hometown Daytona Beach.

I’ll surely be posting more about the festival and my fellow authors/creators/entrepreneurs as time goes by. But in the meantime, you can see pix of my funky, arty, garage-painted tablecloth setup and my own personal “DEEP GREEN attire” by visiting my FRESH festival post on my book’s Facebook page.

And, you can see many photos (and links, and stories!) of the many, MANY wonderful other participants and their tables and their works by visiting the F.R.E.S.H. Book Festival’s Facebook page. Keep scrolling down the page to see!

I have two answers to those questions: 1) Yes, in some places, these basic survival activities are highly restricted, or maybe even illegal. And 2) I don’t care.

If it is illegal where you are, that would be a worthy application for civil disobedience. Are we going to let someone keep us from using natural resources to meet our household and neighborhood’s most basic needs, food and water? Oh, and by the way — there are many ways to grow a food garden that looks like an ornamental garden. And, I hear there are people who teach stealth rainwater collection.

Also: Collecting rainwater by turning the ground into a sponge via plants and mulch is a way to collect a huge amount of water where it’s needed most, where most water consumption of a household takes place: the yard. And turning the ground into an absorbent sponge is a lot easier and less expensive than having a bunch of cisterns. Plus it’s not illegal. So you can avoid legal trouble and make life easier for yourself all at once!

And then there’s this: Government and corporate interests are major contributors to drought and famine. If they want to try and prevent us from retro-fitting basic compassion and sanity and ecological common sense into our communities, they don’t have much of a case.

In my life, I am very fortunate to have been able to travel (all over the USA, and to a few other countries as well). Growing up in a military family, travel came with the territory! We drove cross-country from one duty station to the next, and camped at national parks and state parks along the way. I did a good bit of traveling as an adult too: to England, Spain, the Netherlands, Belgium, Mexico, Jamaica, Australia, Malaysia, Canada. I even got to live in Japan for five years, back in the 1990s.

At this point in my life, and in our planet’s life, I am choosing to limit my travel. As I’ve mentioned before, I am just about 100% committed to no more flying. And, I retroactively purchased carbon offsets for every flight I could remember taking in my adult life — and padded the numbers for good measure.

(Update January 2024: I have taken a no-fly pledge. To get more info, and find out how you can do the same, look up the “Flight Free” organization in your part of the world. Flight Free USA, Flight Free UK, etc.)

That said, having had so many opportunities to experience the wonder of different places and cultures, I don’t feel I have any right to tell other people not to travel. (Exception: my many tweets and other posts unabashedly telling country leaders they need to stop having climate conferences in person. That I will stick to! As the meme said, “If there’s any event that should have been done by Zoom …”)

What I can do is share resources for mitigating the eco footprint of your travel if you like. (Gold Standard carbon offsets are the top choice of eco-minded folk I know and trust.)

Also, I can share some powerful writing that helped me understand the damaging cultural and economic impacts of travel, and how I could mitigate those. I learned the term “decolonizing travel”; learned that colonialism infects a lot of our travel; and that tourism causes a lot of the same problems as gentrification. (My favorite article on the problematic aspects of tourism is “Lovely Hula Hands,” an acclaimed piece by Haunani Kay-Trask. Other writing that’s opened my eyes is linked in my “Thoughts on Tourism” series, which you can find in the Further Reading section below.)

OK, so now onward to the immediate topic of this post! This past week I stumbled, via Facebook-wander, upon a company that leads people on virtual trips. The company employs guides that are local to each place, and the virtual tourists get to watch local artisans at work, and then, if they like, buy handcrafted items from the artisans. All virtually!

Now, some people might say, “Meh, that’s not the same as real travel!” And, OK, it’s not. But on the other hand, meatspace travel has always had its serious downsides, both for the visitor and for the host locale.

And look at the times we’re living in now! Pandemics, biospheric crisis, political unrest, and people everywhere feeling really squeezed for time and money. Not to mention the extreme weather that’s grounding more and more flights these days. And let’s face it: Even at the best of times, in-person travel comes with some very real stress factors.

I tend to agree with what I read on the virtual travel company’s site, that virtual is the future of travel. It’s ethical; it’s safe; and I have a feeling I’m going to sign up for a trip sometime! Something like this might just be enough to satisfy my urge to visit (say, for example) Tashkent or Samarkand or Peru or India.

Now to put in a plug for the company. It’s called Local Purse; it was founded by a woman named Lola Akinmade Åkerström; and it’s won an award for being a hot startup for 2022. Go check out Local Purse! (Website ; and Facebook page ). From Marrakech to Cuzco to Nigeria and beyond, Local Purse offers some very tempting tours that are affordable both money-wise and time-wise. And of course there is that nice low eco footprint.

(UPDATE January 2024: It actually sounds like they’re now experiencing some obstacles. Their website says they’re taking a hiatus. But they remain open to being contacted.)

As I mentioned, I found Local Purse by the Facebook-hopping random-walk thing (which I probably do too much, but then again I always end up stumbling on such great people and info). So now I’d also like to put in a plug for the person whose ad led me to Local Purse, and that is a digital-nomad lifestyle writer named Nora Dunn who calls herself The Professional Hobo. She offers good advice, so if you’re a digital nomad, or think you might want to be, check out her Facebook page and her website theprofessionalhobo.com! (Here’s a post where she interviews Lola Akinmade Åkerström.)

And finally, a thought for artisans and entrepreneurs everywhere: We can all get in on virtual travel, by offering tours of our own places too!

Further Reading:

• My post “Thoughts On Tourism (Reading List)”. Includes link to Haunani Kay-Trask’s article “Lovely Hula Hands” mentioned above.

• My post “Thoughts on Tourism (Reading List — More)”.

• “Thoughts on Tourism: Air Travel”. A mere 1% of the population causes half of global aviation emissions. Should this 1% pay — out of their own pockets — to offset their aviation admissions?” My response: Yes! They should. (We should, I mean, because at one point in my working life, I was part of this 1%, flying up to 11 times a year for a total of over 40k miles a year.) In this post I share how I have handled my air-travel footprint.

“hello friendly reminder that you do not need a special occasion to use nice things! If you wait long enough your nice bath bomb won’t be as fizzy! your favorite fruits will go out of season! candles are meant to be burned, not looked at! you’re not enjoying your special tea if it’s just sitting in your cupboard! you’re allowed to have nice and special things on completely ordinary days! heck, it might just make that day special”

(these words are from someone who goes by the handle “mysteryhacked”; you can follow them on some platform but I’m not sure what the platform is; doesn’t appear to be Facebook or Twitter — someone shared it as a screenshot on Facebook which is how I saw it)

And I say: YES!!! THIS. I love using my grandmother’s china for my everyday dishes. And spending beautiful evenings lit by nice candles that I bought from the thrift store for 50 cents or a dollar because the person who bought them 10 years ago at a boutique for 15 dollars never used them (they were “too pretty to burn”), and then later the person died or had to downsize and so that too-pretty-to-burn candle ended up in a thrift shop.

Long ago (around 1998), I had a beautiful jacket that I kept saving for special occasions. Over the years of me saving it for some special occasion that never arrived, the beautiful jacket got ruined by mildew. So I know whereof I speak!

And on this general carpe-diemish topic, one of my favorite ancient poems just came to me. It’s from the Odes, a collection of Latin lyric poems by Horace (65 BC- 8 BC). I no longer have the magazine clipping or whatever that I had taped to the cabinets of my trailer back in Austin 20 years ago, but I have read the poem so many times I can (mostly) remember what that text said. Note, a google will reveal various versions of the translation, none of which quite feel as rhythmically satisfying to me as the version I memorized all those years ago, and have (with errors no doubt) retyped below for you:

Seek not to know — we cannot know — what ends, the gods will bring, my love, to you or me.
Consult no Babylonian astrologers! 
Far better to endure whatever comes, whether Jove grant us many winters more, or whether this be the last, that now wears out
the Tuscan sea upon opposing rocks.
Be wise. Strain clear the wine. Since life is brief, cut short far-distant hopes.
Even while we speak, time, envious, takes flight. 
Live this day well.
Put little trust in what tomorrows hold.