A year ago today we welcomed our son Quincy into this crazy world and though time has muted the impact of that experience we still remember it in vivid detail. The Aztecs equated childbirth to warfare, and pregnant mothers as warriors in a titanic struggle with the gods to wrestle their children from the great beyond into this world. I think this is an apt description of childbirth. I remember Maggie fighting for her life and the life of our son for 42 agonizing hours. No sleep. No painkillers. No epidural. No guarantees. No doctors.
And suddenly, with the guidance of our midwives, came one last push. The last full measure of a fighter throwing one last punch. Maggie reached down and pulled our son from the great beyond, transcending her former mere human form to that of near goddess with the power of the creation of life itself in her hands. Seconds later tiny eyes opened and air filled little lungs for the first time. Life. Two had made three.
Before the pregnancy we debated endlessly about the merits of bringing a child into this world. A world that will inevitably be ruled by machines and Artificial intelligence. A world of shifting climates and dwindling resources. A world regulated by algorithms and post truth societies. Now that Quincy is here, these fears and questions haven’t subsided. We no longer fear for our own future, but that of our children born and yet to be born.
It’s not enough to raise decent kids. To feed them and make sure they do well in school. The coming crisis that faces our country, species and our planet requires more from us. Forgotten skills like gardening, foraging and self-reliance as well as community activism, mutual cooperation and diplomacy are crucial. This is what we mean by ‘intentional living’. A year into being parents, Quincy’s existence in this world reminds us why we live the way we do and why we must, for better or worse, continue down the less traveled path of minimalism, self-reliance and land stewardship. HBD Q, it’s all for you.
