Autumnal Musings: The Importance of Connections
“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” ~Albert Einstein
“People can't be just tied together. They have to connect. Otherwise, they'll find themselves bound hand and foot. ~ Ai Yazawa
The garden was still mostly dark. The sky was brightening in the east, or rather there was a streak of brightness in that direction. The street was quiet as it often is at that time in the morning. It is the best time to be out. No traffic, no people. Pure bliss.
I completed my morning ritual, a tree near the boundary my poteau mitan, Legba honoured, the gates opened, so on and so forth and then I just sat down on the dew damp grass and watched the garden transform as the light grew. If you’ve ever been up and outside as dawn breaks, you’ll know what I mean when I say the light takes on a strange quality. It feels like it has substance, that if you so wanted, you could reach out and touch it. It is one of my favourite times and it is a perfect time to honour Legba or any other liminal spirit or deity if you should want to. There is a magic to this time of day, with or without deity. You just need to make a small effort and you too will behold it. For me, this small effort is waking early and it really is no effort at all, not really, considering I get the moment to myself. I don’t have to think or speak. I can just be. It’s at this time that the spirit of the land seems more visible, louder in the quietness. Present.
And so I watched the hedgehog snuffle its way through the wild part of the garden, unseen but definitely heard as it sought out slugs and worms before making its way to its nest. I think it lives beneath the shed, the one almost overtaken by the ivy (held up by the ivy is probably more accurate. We don’t use the shed anymore, not now the kids have grown and don’t require the garden toys that once filled it. Instead the ivy has made its way inside, the wild is reclaiming the space), or it might live in the log pile. Either way I see it most mornings as it snuffles its way back home. I listened to what remained of the dawn chorus too, the almost melancholic call of the blackbird, its song loud and clear, a melody that welcomes the day, recognising the later onset, the approach of the darker months. The sparrows had not yet woken but soon would with their chatter, but this get’s later as the darker months come closer.
The light grew, the sky cloudless. There was a chill in the air and it smelled of almost autumn. You know what I mean. It’s hard to explain but if you were to get up early and go outside and breathe in deeply, you’d know what I mean. Autumn is here and I am ready for it. The winding down. The longer nights and cooler weather. Thick jumpers and Doc Martens. This year I am more than ready for the solace that comes with the darkness. And yet, as I write this with the cool morning air still in my lungs, there is still much to be done.
This year has been a bit of a shit show, more so than usual, and more than ever it has shown us that we are all linked, no matter where abouts in the world we live. We need one another if we are to make changes in the world, changes for the better. Solidarity and mutual aid groups have been on my mind a lot. This, in part, is due to meeting and getting to know some awesome people. You know, there are people I know in real life, people I thought of as friends and perhaps still do, who have shown me little to no support whatsoever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a working class gal, brought up tough and so I’m not whining, rather this is a general observation, but the greatest support has come from people I’ve never met in real life. Mad, isn’t it? Mad, but hopeful. Hopeful that there are still folks in the world who care about others and support them. But there’s another important aspect to this kind of support too. We can use it to inspire and in turn be inspired to make changes, to reach out and share our time, skills and efforts with others. Those of you who know me will know that I’m not really an optimistic person. I’m the kind that prepares for the worst while hoping for the best. A realist, I say though others might call me a pessimist, but I also know, have experienced what I speak about here.
In a couple weeks my course begins, Becoming Wild: The Tools of Resistance and I’ll also be holding a workshop at the NYC Anarchist Book Fair later on this month. Both of these will involve the sharing of things, knowledge and practical skills I’ve picked up over the course of my life. A few years ago, I’d probably say I have nothing of value to share with others, but experience is a beautiful thing and now I know that each of us has something to give, something to share with others, things that will help make life a little easier, give a little breathing space or just allow others to shine. Sometimes the only thing we might have to give is comfort, and that’s okay. Comfort can be precious. Most of these upcoming events, the course and the workshop and others besides were inspired by other folks, the same people I’ve never met in real life but who are my people nonetheless, more so than others who I do know in the real world. And this is really the crux of this writing right here, the overarching message, if you will. Because the truth is we do not exist in a vacuum even if it feels like we sometimes do. We are not alone, we do not stand alone. Despite all of the infighting that often emerges in leftist spaces as folks argue over semantics, let’s just take a moment to realise we are allies, that there is more that brings us together than separates us. Building links with folks is important. Finding ‘our people’ is important, no matter where in the world they may be.
In the garden, as the dawn is just breaking and the rest of the street sleeps, I do not feel alone. There is a life to this garden, an energy, a spirit. As I close the gates and leave an offering for Papa, I know I am not alone. We are never truly alone.
Resist beautifully people!
“It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tired into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one destiny, affects all indirectly.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.
“Man can no longer live for himself alone. We must realize that all life is valuable and that we are united to all life. From this knowledge comes our spiritual relationship with the universe.” ~Albert Schweitzer
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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