I have this mug in VT.  The stick figure, with its arms flailing, legs pumping, running full speed away from a black bear with its caption “Vermont Fast Food!” always makes me chuckle. 

When you think about it —it’s an honest depiction of modern life in multiple ways….because most days, we’re all running.

Deadlines. Decisions. Overfull calendars. Overcrowded spaces. A world that keeps asking us to move faster, build more, consume quicker, and somehow not feel overwhelmed while doing it. 

The mug humorous image just makes it obvious.

The Bear Chasing Is No Accident

A few summers ago, we went on a bear watching tour in Alaska and our guide said we’d hit the bear jackpot.  We saw 8 brown bears within the short span of 3 hours, which was unusual for that time of year and especially in a vast place like Alaska.  It was amazing!  I been hooked on bear watching ever since.  Explore.org has a live feed from Katmai National Park that lets me watch bears all summer long.  Watching their patience and slower pace always remind me to be more bear-like and practice patience like I’m fishing for a perfect salmon dinner on the Brooks Falls.

In real life, bears don’t wander into human spaces for fun. They do it because their habitats are shrinking, fragmenting, or changing. Development pushes outward. Forests get carved into smaller pieces. Food sources shift.

So bears adapt.

They’ve move closer to us — not because they want conflict, but because we’ve made it unavoidable.  So, while now I might be able to see an occasional bear in my own backyard, I don’t think that’s a good thing.  It’s not just the bears but all wildlife who are so important for making our lives better.

To me, that image on the mug isn’t just a joke. It’s a snapshot of what happens when growth goes unchecked and speed replaces thoughtfulness. When “more” is always the goal, but “enough” never enters the conversation.

We Build Fast. We Live Fast. We Eat Fast.

I’m finding that the same mindset shows up everywhere.

We rush through meals.

We prioritize convenience over connection.

We develop land faster than we understand its impact.

And then we act surprised when the systems around us — ecological and personal — start to strain.

The Amazon effect didn’t just teach us to expect packages overnight — it trained us to expect life to move that fast, too.

Sustainable dining, sustainable development, sustainable living… none of those are really about perfection. They’re about pace. About choosing thoughtfully instead of reflexively. About slowing down enough to notice the consequences of our choices.

Am I The Stick Figure?  Are you?

The stick figure doesn’t look prepared.

It doesn’t look calm.

It definitely doesn’t look like it has a plan.

It’s pure reaction.

That’s what rushing does to me. It keeps me in a constant state of response instead of reflection. I’m so busy outrunning the next thing that sometimes I forget stop to ask what I’m running toward — or whether stopping might actually be the smarter move.

Sometimes the most sustainable choice isn’t a product or a policy.

It’s a pause.

This is one of the reasons I enjoy spending time in rural Vermont.  So far, it hasn’t gotten overdeveloped or rushed.  Fast food places are few and far between.  You’re forced to pause, to think, to plan ahead for meals, forgo impulse shopping and more.  Spending in Vermont is more than just a breath of fresh air—it helps me appreciate and enjoy what I already have in life more.

Enter: The Mug

For me, the mug is the opposite of the stick figure.

It asks me to sit.  To hold something warm.  To take a few minutes that don’t need to be optimized.

A mug is reusable. Familiar. Unrushed. It doesn’t beep or buzz or demand my attention. It just… waits. And makes me smile.

And maybe that’s the quiet point.

When I slow down — even briefly — I make better decisions. I eat with more intention. I notice where and how things are built. I remember that not everything needs to happen at a sprint.

What If I Stopped Running?

What if the bear isn’t the thing I need to fear?

What if the real danger is a life spent running so fast, I forget to look around, listen, or rest — until I’m forced to?

Maybe sustainability doesn’t start with grand gestures.

Maybe it starts with noticing the mug in my hand.

How ‘bout You?

The next time you pour something warm, don’t multi-task.

Don’t rush.

Just sit. Sip. Stay.

The world — and the bears — might thank us for it.