My grandfather fought in a war, my father protested one, I watched them unfold on a screen. That’s not to say I haven’t marched, I have, and I am not immune to the feeling of futility that sometimes has a chokehold on the spirit when marching against such a monumental machine. I have been told that my voice and my vote matter, that it is important to join my fellows amongst the throng and let it be heard, “hey hey, ho ho, (insert rhyming scheme of affected socio-political slogan). The camaraderie is potent, the words feel empty. Some folx show up, sledgehammer in hand, ready to “tear the house down”. In my lifetime I have seen the “house” become a “battlement” and my “hammer” has the weight of a fork. I have been told “The Revolution will not be televised”, more than likely it’ll be behind a paywall and password sharing is closely monitored.
In these musings I have been seeing the trees set ablaze with reds, trapped glucose in transformation, caramelized beauty standing 30 feet tall. There are many changes happening, people and plants in revolution. Not where I started, and unlike the trees preparing for the resource scare winter, I do not know where I will end up.
I know I don’t want to go back to where I/We started. After I’ve learned where I came from, I’d rather leave it to the past to decompose and become the nutrients of my future. The idea of a full revolution, returning to a starting point, is not sitting well with me. I find myself rather seeking something to launch me from where I am to an uncertain future. To kneel upon the ground and thank it for its support, then give over the winds of change, and when I land what will I do?
I will seek my fellows and feed them. I will look for what is growing, what can be sown, seed and intention, into the crops our youths will tend. I do not seek a Revolution, I’d prefer an Evolution. I’m prepared to find the camaraderie in familiar and unfamiliar. You will likely find me tending a pot, sharing a story, co-creating new binding myths that can guide us to a new zeitgeist. One by which the many varied expressions of humanity can be explored and sought after for their wisdom and their playfulness. One by which broken bread and a restful head can lead us to loving kindness for all.