The last few weeks have been tumultuous in many ways.
There is no need to go into details. Some of it is of course connected to events in the UK and the now inevitability of BREXIT but even more the growing divides that have taken over the UK - but not uniquely there - they are very present in many more countries, including in Belgium.
I feel a loss of humanity and connection in how we speak to each other online. How messages are circulated without being checked for their truth or their potential violent effects.
It seems clearer to me that we cannot wait around for our leaders to make the steps needed to stop the accelerating climate emergency.
There are moments when I am sure we must have reached the worst - that there is going to be a global wake up. I see so many signs that it is happening through the wonderful posts and communities that I am part of and is my ‘echo chamber’ on the internet… but then I realise that this is just my small view of the world.
“Enough” - yes there are times when I really think I would like to opt out for a while - and I post a poem that I really want to share with anyone who is feeling tired and dis-heartened at the moment.
It is OK to feel this way. It is human. It is important. It shows that you care. It helps you to make boundaries on what is OK and not OK and to defend them where we can.
Perhaps this is the perfect time to disconnect from our phones and social media for a while and re-connect with our friends and family, with nature. To simplify things.
Because when we do that we re-find our spirit, our instinct and our real connections with our community and it is that which will help us get out there again.
I wish you all this period of rest and connection with yourself and those you love.
I sign off for 2019 with this amazing poem which I have read every day this week:
“enough
And so, it comes.
That winter morning when you wake
and find that you have had
enough.
You will give it up, you tell yourself,
retreat to the hills, the coast,
a cottage, a boat, a hut
some place out on the edge of it all.
Anywhere but here.
Anything but this.
You make plans to see out your days
walking beaches
scattering resting gulls
climbing mountains
to stare at far horizons.
You tell yourself
you will tend vegetables
grow old by the heat of a fire
lose yourself in books
and the view from a window.
Let the rich and the furious
have the world for themselves.
Much good may it do them.
There’s no shame, you tell yourself,
in howling your grief
into the roaring wind
at the stars, the moon,
anything that listens,
in finding solace in the bottle
or the bottom of a pint.
There’s no shame in walking
away from the fight,
throwing the towel in.
Just let the rich and the furious
have the world for themselves.
And much good may it do them.
You tell yourself all of this and more.
You even believe it.
And then, one day, it comes.
That morning which has always
been written into your bones
woven into your future
that morning when you wake
and find that you have had
Basta!
Enough!
and you roll up your sleeves
and set to once again.
© Steve Pottinger. 13th December 2019”