I try to live life like a Dar Williams song: enthusiastically earnest and good-naturedly self-aware, avoiding the twin traps of sentimentality and cynicism.
I'm a fair-trade vegan eco-socialist treehugging citizen of the People's Republic of Cascadia, heck yeah, but I'm also an anti-drug, Temperance-minded, intensely secular, pro-monogamy scientist. These things are mutually reinforcing; I get all sorts of excited about rigorously applying cost-benefit analysis and the Precautionary Principle to my everyday life, in order to hit as accurately as I can that tradeoff between Epicureanism and responsibility to myself and this Pale Blue Dot.
Like Dar, I grew up on the sheltered suburban margins of a Great Lakes state (New York for her, Chicagoland for me). I'm similar to other organisms that developed in stable environments without many natural predators: We focus on quality over quantity, and consume with the assumption that our grandkids will feel the effects of our choices. You could say I'm living like a big flightless island pigeon, but you could also say I'm living like a komodo dragon, which sounds way cooler.