I’m sure you know that in Norway they’re building kindergartens next to old peoples homes. A perfect combination of wisdom and grace.
We have a similar set up here in the Publet. Two white haired individuals living next to a three year old who wants to play ball, hide under the swing set, nick the apple juice, scare the cat and generally cause mayhem. The old git loves it. The young person in question is generous enough to receive hugs, give kisses and make two old hippies feel well loved.
Not a day goes by that I’m not withering in the ‘yearn’ of bygone days. Pine in the forest, rain on asphalt, wind in the willows, sun on the grass, slugs on the hostas, the delicious smell of new leather shoes for the autumn term, it don’t make no never mind what it is but a moment of sensuality and I’m off limping down memory lane.
But however real the sensations there’s no grabbing back the first love, there isn’t a hope in hell of revisiting the tempestuous twenties, the gnawing thirties, let lone the untouchable forties. getting into my fifties feels like yesterday, 6o’s but a glance over my shoulder, and here I am in my 70’s and the light at the end of the tunnel, though dim, is most definitely visible. Waking up is a joy – hurrah I didn’t die in the night, falling in love with the sun on the tomato plants, the whole fucking game is unbelievably tragic and yet here I am enjoying the crunching of the old gits’ mandibles as he chows down on furrowed crisps.
As we live through extreme weather events my Wellington boots are at the ready, two umbrellas sit by the coat rack and a book of spells next to the bed to call on the Gods of climate.
I am an optimist, I believe that we will survive, I am forever turning a blind eye to disaster after disaster, I am keeping the faith that as the globe warms up more of us will do the right thing. I am forever meditating on the inner peace and the outward fuck ups; I am deciding to help with the overthrow of ineffectual governments who open their mouths and increase the hot air that is destroying us all.
Look, I’m one of the lucky ones. In 30 years I’ll be gone and it’ll be up to the likes of mine and your’s to look after what’s left of our ailing planet.
Just how do you get people to change? What exactly do we do when so many people don’t give a shite, can’t give a shite, don’t know that they have to give a shite. Just what are we waiting for? There’s a lot to do in so little time and yet the top story is the anger that ‘them over there’ felt when they couldn’t get on a plane to the seaside in Ibiza.
I refuse to give in, up or over. I refuse to believe that there are more of us who couldn’t give a monkeys than there are those of us who do. Poor fucking monkeys is all I can say. I’m doing Wim Hof breathing to get myself stronger so that I can join the army of people who are fighting for our planet.
“We either live through fear or love” said my acupuncturist as she shoved yet another knitting needle into my eye. “Living by fear is the Western way,” she said, “living through love means we care, we help each other and survive without worry and anxiety.” But it does feel like I’m saying empty words over and over and over again.
If I sit still for one minute it all seems so simple. Just stop doing what is wrong and do what is right. But if what I think is right and what you think is wrong, then who arbitrates? Who makes the final decision? Who holds the reigns and keeps us on track? I dont trust any of those in power anymore – do you? I don’t know who to believe, who to vote for. Just who is going to keep the social media outfits on track? Who is going to reveal that money is but one way of doing stuff and that there really is a different way where everyone gets a share not just a few arseholes at the top.
Chatter, chatter, chatter. Whinge, whinge, whinge. Speculate, speculate, speculate. On the walls in Lewes somebody has stuck little paper stickers saying THE MEDIA ARE THE PROBLEM. They remind us that everything is out of whack. We all need a rebalance. We face three days of gales and rain and more extreme weather and, what will I do? Well, I’ll sleep through the morning of it, meditate through the afternoon of it and watch the telly in the tail end of it. I will close my eyes, ears and bowels to it. I will have to if I want to muster up the strength to face the oncoming heat wave.
And then I will re-set my positive button. I will read those that have the answers and listen to those who have the intelligence to change things for us. I will have a pea shooter for the lying billionaires who fly to the moon whilst millions of us starve, I will have a catapult for those lying oil barons who believe that climate change is a hoax. When profit overtakes any kind of moral sense then I will take a blunderbuss to them.
I am not a woman of violence but I would truly like to bring down those bastards that hold the rest of us to ransom whilst they laugh all the way to the bank.
Do not be down hearted, do not be glum, there really is a rainbow hiding in every slum and by jove I will help uncover it.