Radical Dreaming

This season’s holidays provided the much needed down time to go through my writing note books, incomplete posts and projects. Amongst the sprawls and scribbles I found the half written poem “Radical Dreaming”. After watching Don’t Look Up and with New Years Eve rapidly approaching, I decided to rework the poem into a post as an intention for the new year rather than traditional New Year resolutions.

So what’s your radical dream for 2022? here’s mine!

Radical Dreaming

Capitalism is a corruption of love.

In our desire to own and possess ourselves through our possessions we have neglected and exploited the natural resources which quite literally provide us with heaven on Earth. We have over consumed our path towards planet destruction like the Ouroboros devouring it’s own tail. But just as the mythical beast can symbolise death and rebirth, creation and destruction this moment is an opportunity to reimagine and birth a new society.

If capitalism is a corruption of love then a reformation of love can save us.

And as ‘Courage’ originates from the Latin “cor” for heart, it is time to be courageous. We need to act from the heart because we must act outside of our own comforts, interests and egos to work collectively to tackle climate change. We must risk our freedoms by defending the right to protest.

We need to be brave. Brave enough to put down distractions-whether they be digital, consumerism or the bottom of the “locally brewed” bottle. It’s time to be accountable and refuse to support the system which is depleting and deleting our planet. It’s time to reclaim our seat at the table or starve to death as our planet dies. It is going to be uncomfortable. But with community we will get through it. If we acknowledge the seriousness of the problem but dream outside of the current antiquated structures, we can build governance systems founded on empathy and equality not elite capital gain. We are so used to acquisitive ideals that alternative models sound like fairy tales or distant dreams but in reality many are living in a daily nightmare.

I know that individuals can’t recycle their way out of climate change – it takes structural changes by governments and corporations – I can question the motivations of my actions and purchases. Thus making changes that may be uncomfortable at first, but in the long term lead to a more fulfilled way of life. Ultimately joining with others to work towards those common goals that respect and empower the wider society and our planet.

My intentions for 2022

Reduce online time.

https://erjjiostudios.com/environment/the-internets-environmental-impact-how-you-can-help/

Stop buying new clothes (and photo frames…cushions… etc)

https://www.greenpeace.org.uk/news/the-uks-fast-fashion-habit-is-getting-worse-and-its-destroying-the-planet/

https://www.freecycle.org/

https://www.traid.org.uk/

Reduce food waste and learn how to grow and preserve food

https://www.gov.uk/apply-allotment

https://toogoodtogo.co.uk/en-gb

https://www.yourlocalpantry.co.uk/

Join a local group/ community.

https://www.sistersuncut.org/ https://www.greenpeace.org.uk/ https://theleap.org/our-work/ http://www.wftucentral.org/ https://extinctionrebellion.uk/ https://www.theclimatecoalition.org/show-the-love

Show The Love – Activity Pack

Always choose LOVE

Rest In External Power – Bell Hooks

Life lessons Vs Resolutions

It’s that time of year.

But I don’t believe in new year resolutions.

I believe in

Looking back.

It’s that time of year.

I am reliving the times of frustration, sadness, overwhelming happiness and achievement over the past 345 days.

Looking forward.

I start to plan the future and digest the life lessons that I have received.

My mind jumps back to November.

Heart pounding, I crash into the spin studio at the gym. I’m late. By this I mean I have arrived five minutes early for the class, but a minute too late to procure my trusty spin bike. Nestling quietly in the corner in the back row, my trusty companion now had a new owner. My chance of back row, dimly lit anonymity had vanished.

The 90s House and Garage starts to pumps as the situation gets worse.   The only bike left is at the front of class. The bikes reserved for the ‘Gym Fit ‘ Girls (GFGs). The type that run to the gym in Dry Fit outfits that colour co-ordinate with their Free Runners: gym hair (high messy pony) and perfect face of nude make up complete the uniform.

I am not her.

Nor do I want to be.

But the pressure and fear of sitting on that bike was real. As I mounted the pedestal bike, I could hear myself doling out the obligatory compliments, apologies and excuses for my presence and upcoming performance.  Gripped with fear, I hear the pace of the music picking up.  I approach effort level 11 worried about what I must look like compared to my GFG neighbours.

Rationally you can tell yourself “Nobody has the energy to waste looking at you!” And it’s true. But then we get to the Solo Sprints. The part of the class where everyone has to stop spinning and watch you, as your row sprint as fast as they can for 60 seconds. Even safe on old faithful, in my dimly lit corner, I’d fear this part of the class. And now, being in the front row, I had the honour of going last.

As I wait for our turn to “..show the class how it’s done!” my anxiety mounts.  The Mexican wave of sprinting spinners descends on the front row like a tsunami.   The buzzer sounded and instinctively I just closed my eyes.  And then the most liberating thing happened.

I was alone.

I stopped worrying about what I looked like to others. Stopped worrying that I didn’t belong there. All I cared about was cycling as fast as I could.

I had stopped worrying about how I was perceived by others.

I remember the anxiety I first felt when starting to write my blog.  The feeling of vulnerability and exposure and judgment.  The concern of what my family and friends would think of my writing. My parenting skills.  My questionable gym wear choices.

But the less I worry about other people’s perceptions – the happier I am.

Whether I fail or succeed, I am happier.  I am free.

And that is my life lesson for 2015.

What’s yours?

Continue reading “Life lessons Vs Resolutions”