Insight and inspiration in turbulent times.
I recently put out a call looking for places, events or venues that are creating wifi-free spaces, places where people can intentionally get away from smartphones and the distraction they bring into our lives, some time to cultivate the attention.
Without emotional resilience, people will not survive. Not only do we need to ‘think through’ this process of breakdown, we need to feel our way through it. In fact, our proclivity for thinking first and perhaps allowing a bit of emotional expression later on is a pattern that has helped get us into this dire predicament.
The fact that climate change is mostly caused by the rich and yet the poorest, who have done least to cause it and have the least resources to respond, will be hit most seriously by the damaging impacts – is uncomfortable. But it is important.
We may think like the wild, or we may think like the tamed. We humans, products, beneficiaries, and dependents of the web of life from which we were spun, can continue our collective course on this tangential path from the natural processes, limits, and communities of this planet.
It is in that capacity that I come before you today, as a commoner. Much more about that shortly, but suffice it to say that the commons, to me, is a vehicle for social and political emancipation.
What’s coming? Possibilities I hope for, probabilities to dread. Possible: A renewed stirring of love for the Earth. Respect for and reciprocity with all beings.
We’ll investigate how, in the face of ICE raids, labor violations, a housing crisis, and climate-fueled wildfires, the broader community is coming together to stand in solidarity with those who are being forced into the shadows.
What you might not have heard is the story of the grassroots response that arose after Maria. In the midst of all the austerity and hurricane-driven chaos, a quiet revolution has been slowly taking place on the island.
In our new podcast series, The Response, we aim to share a perspective that isn’t extensively covered in the mainstream media. Specifically, we ask the question: how do communities come together in the aftermath of disasters — often in the face of inadequate official response — to take care of each other?
There is enough land, more than enough land, throughout the Midwest (and beyond) to support monarchs and still grow more corn and soy than we need. There is enough land, along the highways, in the grassy green circles and triangles of interchanges, in yards and parks, on campuses, in vacant lots—anywhere, really—to grow a patch of three-season-blooming wildflowers, including milkweed.
Protecting the children is a formidable responsibility. But it is our responsibility, and we bring to the task a formidable set of powers, honed, sharpened, and passed down mother-to-daughter over generations.
Can a “never-seen-before ” weather event that happens every few years really be called “never-seen-before”? Does a “1 in a 1,000 year” event that happens twice in two years become a warning of something different happening?
