I often think about two childhood memories fondly.  The first is of me foraging for mushrooms with my grandfather during the rainy season, in Michoacan.  The other is of me watching countless documentaries on PBS with my mother.  I remember telling myself that when I grew up I would do all of the things I saw the scientist and the explorers doing.  But gradually, the fact that I was poor, undocumented, and responsible to become somoeone worthy of my parent’s sacrifice, made me forget about that promise to myself. 

In recent years, watching documentaries with my own kids, this time about how the acceleration of climate change has surpassed the predictions from my childhood, filled me with a tremendous sense of loss and regret.  It has shaken me to my core, leading me not just to make room in my work for environmental justice but to a change in lifestyle.  How I live, how I get there and what I consume to maintain that lifestyle needs to be part of my mindfulness routine.