Interconnected butterflies

 From day one we realise that our surviving and thriving depends on those we’re in connection with. We understand that our relationships matter, we are dependent on those who are able to care, to take care of us when we can’t take care of ourselves. 

So then what happens? Defiant toddlers asserting their independence usually then move into understanding the importance of sharing as we learn that coexistence is essential. Yet those of us growing up in a capitalist society are encouraged to believe we’re in competition with each other. Patriarchy, racism, classism and other insidious factors can lead us to think some humans are worth more than others (literally in terms of pay, but also in terms of opportunities, and in a sense of who is seen as expendable). Some of us lose sight of that truth that our lives are interwoven and start to imagine that the consequences of our choices are irrelevant to anyone but themselves. 

How do we end that disconnection? What will have the isolated remember? Literally re-member, return as a member of an interconnected human race. Every nano second we’re living out and experiencing the butterfly effect and every choice we make is not just on behalf of ourselves but on everyone else. I appreciate that might seem a weighty responsibility - tho maybe only if you think you’re facing it alone rather than comprehend how actually because we’re all in this life together we can support each other.

In a world where we have people who think it’s ok to have lots whilst others have nothing, including politicians being paid thousands (£276,130) for a single speech or wearing ludicrously expensive clothing  whilst those impacted by policies they invoked are struggling to eat, I’m wrestling with what we need to change. How do we break through the barriers of entitlement so that those hording more than they need realise that what is in their bank is meaningless if the people they share oxygen with are unable to have even a basic existence? And that the same oxygen, water, soil etc sustains us all. How do each of us reclaim our knowledge that we all need each other?

Making Herstory every day

I have been busy today, being a part of history. Just like every day! Each time we send a kind text, or a mean text, we are making history. Every time we buy a fairtrade item, or something cheap, we are part of something that shifts history. 

Now, as to what will be recorded and repeated as history, that’s a different matter. There’s a clue in the word. There are many women in the Bible who are not  named, and indeed it’s very telling who it is we are told about and why. Certainly the history I was taught in school venerated a privileged few, and I learned a white colonial version that only reflects a tiny perspective of reality.

I have been intrigued by the comments I have heard on the media from people who have flocked to London to join a very long queue in order to walk past a coffin, or watch a funeral procession. There’s been much talk of “wanting to be part of history.” And I wonder what has us so cut off from our sense of the impact each of us has on history every moment? So a decision made to buy flowers wrapped in plastic is as much a part of history making as a decision to donate to flood relief. Everything we do will ultimately become part of history for someone. 

I think there are some great questions to be asked as to why we focus on some people’s stories and not others. Why our news is dominated by certain issues and concerns and others are overlooked. What does that say about who we care about? 

My own understanding of my faith is that every creature - every human being, every sparrow - matters equally to God. To me it’s important that I reflect that in how I myself show love and concern. And so I’m going to keep asking the questions even tho I know for some it’s not comfortable. 

It’s not easy being green

 Turns out it’s not without issues, trying to plan a wedding with minimal impact on the environment. The culture of capitalism, with its insistence on subjugation of both people and planet, is hard to step out of. 

Some aspects have been thankfully simple. A walk around the graveyard opposite where we live resulted in a huge collection of fir cones, so that was the bulk of the table decorations sorted. 

I would have preferred to source on my high street  some of the other things that on reflection (and there’s been a lot of reflection) would be needed. As we’ll be eating some of the food (especially the cake!) with fingers, we concluded we would need serviettes. Whilst we’ve hired glassware, hiring linen napkins was out of budget so the next best was compostable ones made from recycled paper. We have more than one shop on my high street selling party stuff, so I checked them all. Whilst it’s possible to buy no end of plastic encased paraphernalia, and balloons and other straight-to-landfill items, not a single recycled paper napkin option. Given the scale of the climate emergency, it shouldn’t be impossible to buy recycled products in our towns. It shouldn’t be a niche product only purchasable on the internet (that brings it’s own environmental consequences).

And so, like a lot of ethical decisions, there have been elements of compromise. I concluded that with not many days to go, it made more sense to ask a friend to bring a bag of ice rather than try and make enough and put into a reusable bag. I’m really hoping this will be the only single-use plastic to be seen in the whole of the day. But of course, in orchestrating a community participative event, people will participate on their own terms. And whilst it’s important to me that we tread lightly rather than assume we can treat the earth as a resource to be plundered, I have to remember that we’re all different and for some people, their priorities will not be the same. 

It may well be our wedding, and some will respect our wishes, but some may well be oblivious. The challenge for me is to try and stay loving towards those whose views differ. If I’m longing for people to grasp why this is important to me, surely part of the solution is for me to be understanding of what is important to other people. My hope is that I will be able to welcome with gratitude, rather than exasperation, those accompanied by cling film. Right now I honestly don’t know if I can be the open-hearted person I would like to be. But I’ll keep aiming for it.

Long live the belief in equality!

 From the moment we are born (and way before that as history impacts) we are surrounded by a culture that affects how we see ourselves and others. One of the issues of being born under a monarchy is that from the get-go I have been in a society that believes that some people are more important than others. A certain family, simply through who their parents were, are deemed to rule over me and I am supposed to be subject to them. 

Added to this is a capitalist structure that operates on the assumption that our worth is defined by our productivity. That some people will own the means of production and are encouraged to make profit from that, whilst others will toil and still struggle. This will be accepted as a natural order of things. 

Furthermore there is then this weird lauding of celebrity. Trials/marriages/divorces/clothes etc etc of people who are “famous” will be deemed newsworthy, whilst the experiences of those of us not deemed famous will not. 

I discovered a phrase for this the other day. It is seen as referential power. And I JUST DON’T GET IT. Why would we see someone as more significant than someone else just because of the family they were born into or if they can play football? Maybe this is because in addition to all these cultural messages I’ve been exposed to, I have also been interested in a faith message that says that every single one of us is special. Wonderfully made. Unique. And that there is no person who is any more, or any less important than anyone else. My faith also teaches me that we all need each other. There’s an image given as to how we’re all connected like a body. So just like we can’t all be hearts or ears, we also can’t all be footballers or nurses. We all need each other to use our talents whatever they are. Or to simply be, as it’s not always about the doing (contrary to what a capitalist, ableist society says).

 Instead of privileging some over others, what would our world look like if we celebrated each one for who we are, rather than just celebrate some? What if the birth of every baby was treated with equal airtime? What if there was a 4 day holiday to mark anyone’s 70 years of giving of themselves to others? What if every child as they grew up knew that they were just as important as every other child anywhere in the world, and were no more or no less deserving of attention and respect? That’s the kind of world I’m working towards. 

Bye-bye booby, booby bye-bye

And so a significant chapter comes to an end. 21 years ago I started learning a little about breastfeeding in readiness for becoming a mum. Like lots of new parents, I then found it wasn’t as simple as I’d imagined and was very grateful for some support I received over the phone. That same Breastfeeding Network supporter went on to train me 3 years later to be able to support other new parents. I couldn’t tell you how many, but in 17 years we’re talking many hundreds. 

There is the National Breastfeeding Helpline, where as a volunteer I’d log on whenever I could. Not as often as I’d have liked sometimes, but it has included some Christmas Day calls, some that I’ve caught just before the line shut at 9.30pm, and many where I really felt I made a difference. The last few years we’ve been counting calls, so it’s 373 of those, with who knows how many before. 

My local group moved location a couple of times in those two decades. I made some amazing connections there with other volunteers and with regular attendees, as well as those who just wanted us once. 

I also was grateful to find paid work through the organisation. Several part time roles, in two different local projects, plus coordinating volunteers on the national helpline. Working on a maternity unit; hanging out at antenatal clinics; visiting new mums in their homes at such an important time in their lives; such a privilege to be alongside so many people at such a special but often challenging time. When the projects came to an end, I continued to supervise locally. Many, many friends made along the way. 

And so it’s a big chapter to be turning the page on. I am currently needed elsewhere and so to find the headspace for that, am saying goodbye to this. Maybe it’s not the end. Sometimes in a story a theme comes back in a different way in a new chapter. But I’m leaving the organisation I’ve known nearly half my life (3 years out) so wanted to mark it well :)