A Light in the Dark.
Today is 3/15/20. I wrote this two days ago, on 3/13/20. But then my internet stopped working for a bit before I could publish it properly. We only got it fixed today….Same day the sun came out.
Today is Friday the 13th.
I’m writing this from my current office space; the back room of the house. I can see a blanket-like gray cloud cover out the window, that seems to encompass the whole city and more. Drumpf has banned travel from Europe, and universities across the country have shut down. Social distancing has started to become widespread, at least in the physical sense. At last measurement (so, yesterday), NOAA recorded 414.11 parts per million (ppm) of CO2 in the atmosphere. This is up from 412.14 from last year, which, as you might’ve guessed, is bad. While many people may not have memorized either number, nor know the technical significance of them, I think most people can feel the damage they signify, if only subconsciously. It all gets rather crowded in your brain, I know. A lot of people are fearing that one way or another, something big is coming. Today feels to me not like a climax of a story, with the darkness rising, but rather like a deep ocean with no steep decline, with the people finding themselves sunken in.
Friday the 13th is supposed to bring bad luck.
Some of you may think it’s a hilarious, ironic coincidence - for if there’s ever a situation that could be considered both ironic and coincidental, this is it.
Some of you may think that the bad luck, rather than being brought, has already come, and is simply steeping like tea today.
Some of you may, for the first time in your lives, seriously consider that there is truth to this particular superstition.
It is not that you know something bad will happen. It is that you fear something bad will happen. Or, excuse me - something worse. You could argue it’s already pretty bad. Uncertainty is worse than certainty. I know that, because I have anxiety. I’m not saying I’m an anxious person, I’m actually - surprisingly - quite content, generally driven by joy and ambition, and relatively bold. I have anxiety - the condition. It is rather like I’m suddenly a different person, when I get anxious, someone who worries - and I am not a worrier, normally. Some might call me an optimist. I consider myself a “happy pragmatist.” That being said, we have to acknowledge that the world - our country, at least, at first - might undergo some serious changes, that might be scary to witness. Many are fearing they will suffer or die because of COVID-19 - that might happen. Many are fearing a Second Great Depression - that might happen. Many are fearing Trump will win again in 2020 - that might happen. Many are fearing a changed world and society in response to the climate crisis - that will happen, and that is enough for one person to worry about without any other threat looming as well. We should not let these things happen, we should not wish it, we should not normalize it, but we have to acknowledge and accept that the world is changing, and this is how. But I’m going to ask that instead of letting yourself succumb completely to fear, that you honor your feelings and then rise to change as the world does.
In case you’re feeling lost right now, I’m going to share with you some of my suggestions and plans for the not-too-distant future. You do not have to follow these suggestions and plans, and it’s true that my thinking may seem a bit dramatic - but I argue that it is better to face what you think is the worst that’s coming, and plan to make to make it something bright, productive, hands-on, communal, rather than hide from it or pretend there’s no chance at all. Besides, change isn’t only an action or an event, it is also a reaction - and it can begin any time you’re ready.
1) Sign up to be a giver - and receiver - of mutual aid.
I love this idea - in its current reincarnation, mutual aid simply means that if you have food or resources to last a COVID-19 quarantine/social distancing period, and someone in your city doesn’t, thanks to either a lack of money or time to buy, that you can both sign up to give and receive food and resources. Money is not needed or involved. I can see mutual aid evolving to become an intrinsic part of larger society; in which it would simply mean we all take care of each other.
Mutual aid is a little hard to find, there’s no official website or center for it. You have to look it up on social media, find users engaged with it, and join them.
2) Get ahold of some seeds.
No matter how much money you have, you will never run out of food if you grow it yourself, unless there’s a period of drought or other too-extreme weather. Either way, the risk of not having enough is lessened. I recommend plants that work for your natural environment and climate, and wherever your research takes you is up to you, but I'm personally thinking of tomatoes, lentils, maybe some squash, possibly some artichoke. Whatever you like eating and cooking with, that gives you enough protein and nutrients. If you’re curious about what an ultimate form of this could look like, check out this neat thread on Twitter.
3) Save whatever you can.
We can’t live without water. Save water. Save bottled water, tap water in safe containers for boiling at a later time, save jars and empty plastic water bottles to hold new water in, save water. Buying clothes might be hard in a bit. Making them is pretty hard even if you’re doing it for fun. Save your clothes. Furniture can be traded, modified, used one hundred years later. Don’t throw furniture away. Reupholster it, break a leg off and use it for something else, trade it. I happen to think it’s worth the effort to make things, but if you can’t - or even if you can, save things.
4) Respect and engage with your closest Indigenous “American” communities.
We live on stolen land. It is important to not only acknowledge that, but to return what we can and make right what we have to. Engage by really listening, and helping if someone asks for help.
5) Remember love.
You may feel lonely, and scared, right now, but you’re not alone. You have me. You have the Internet. I’m kidding. But seriously - there is a quote by Auguste Rodin that goes, “nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.” When the quarantine is over, once we can touch again, if we like, there are two things I hope we won’t have forgotten - one, that connection can embolden us, and two, that we’re all on one planet. This is the reason why climate justice activists are appropriating this struggle, this lesson; the virus has taught us that awareness, and mitigating the climate crisis and the oppressive systems that helped cause it requires that awareness. I hope those things stick. Because each time a connection happens, it’s like a little light in the dark.
I had a dream, when I was little, that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. It’s possible that I’ve talked about it on my blog before, but I treat every blog post like it has a new audience. I was with a family, not my own, in a van. We were driving on a freeway somewhere, when suddenly an ice age came and went. A whole ice age drowned out humanity’s skylines. The van was now pointed up in the snow, towards the sky. There was one thought that was narrated to me as I saw this view fade to another of homes embedded in hills, lush and gentle; “I don’t like post-apocalypse movies. I like post-post-apocalypse movies.”
My mother said to me this morning, “Thanks for jinxing us.” It was a joke, but one based of a simple truth that for as long as I can remember, I’ve been thrilled by what normal people called post-apocalypse scenarios. But that’s never how I saw it. I saw it as a time of transformation, as the period between ending a dystopia and building a utopia. You do not have to agree with me or share my outlook. I understand I am privileged, and that influences the way I think a great deal. I might also just be delusional. But post-post-apocalypse scenarios were always my favorite. The time of healing after, that was always what I was really looking for.
I don’t want to appropriate this struggle; I’m tired of seeing my friends suffer, but it’s possible that maybe there are some lessons we’re learning now that we should let stick.
The world is changing, and I can’t stop it, nor can I tell you where we’re all headed.
So here’s my “apocalypse” playlist: made with love specially for these uncertain times.
Honor your feelings, and rise to change as the world does.
Each time you rise, even when you don’t want to, you’re a little light in the dark.
‘Till next time.
