Be Deviant

Muggins in 2020

Hands up if you feel at odds with the world these days?

I’ve been feeling decidedly odd these last couple of years. And while part of me knows this will probably always be the case, I was beginning to think there was something I was doing wrong. Something I had to fix in order to fit in.

Then I read this:

To be at peace with a troubled world: this is not a reasonable aim…
If you don’t fit in,
if you feel at odds with the world,
if your identity is troubled and frayed,
if you feel lost and ashamed
it could be because you have retained the human values you were supposed to have discarded.
You are a deviant. Be proud.

~ George monbiot, quoted in
This one wild and precious life


This One Wild and Precious Life came out in 2020, just as we were starting to comprehend the magnitude of a global pandemic.


Many people found their lives suddenly on pause; too much time to sit with their thoughts, nowhere to go to escape them – except Netflix, perhaps.


We watched as wildlife returned timidly to the streets, the skies cleared of smog and a slow motion disintegration of lives and economies spread around the globe.


In Australia, we were just reeling from the devastation of fires that turned our summer skies black, and destroyed unthinkable numbers of wildlife.


I had just finished my life long sentence as a renter, and become a mortgagee. I’d barely had time to unpack, let alone invite visitors, before we were plunged into lockdown and ordering desks online so we could work from home.


I was more than a little resentful, to be honest, to be imprisoned in my tiny office working harder than ever for my 8.5 hours-a-day income, while my welfare dependent sister had received a pay rise from the government to stay at home and do nothing!


I was supposed to be grateful to still have a job, but instead, I felt trapped in the Upsidedown and no one could hear me scream!

Barb disappears in Stranger Things – Netflix


It was into this WTF moment that Sarah Wilson’s well-timed love letter whispered its thought provoking “beautiful questions”.


I needed some perspective; a path through my despair and rage. And that’s exactly what she gave.


Wilson, for those wondering what’s her claim to fame, was a one-time editor of Cosmopolitan Australia, a former journalist and TV presenter, now author, hiker and activist. She somehow manages to balance life in the mainstream limelight with a frugal, environmentally aware existence and now shares her insights with anyone who will listen – in her book, podcast and newsletter.


Wilson, in her book as in life, seeks to find Rumi’s field, the field beyond the loneliness, despair and rage tearing our world apart, “where we stop disputing issues and instead discuss values. Soul values.”

Could this be Rumi’s field?


She does this by gently teasing out what she sees are the three ‘C’s” of our collective unease:

  • The crisis of Connection in a technology enabling “connection-lite” culture – one that allows us to opt out of the vulnerability of IRL interactions, and instead opt in to the kind of hate speech that real life tends to counteract.
  • The failure of an endless “more, more, more” consumerist model of economy (shhh, I think she means Capitalism) to meet our need to be part of a thriving collective.
  • The elephant-in-the-room Climate crisis – not helped by the proliferation of disposable coffee cups, plastic packaging and fast fashion trends of a consumerist economy.

Wilson manages to disguise solid research and science packed analysis in a conversational style that encourages us to bravely confront difficult to refute, and equally difficult to swallow, truths.

Speaking to an uncomfortable rising panic, Wilson acknowledges that this “’societal shitstorm’” is “manifestly impossible” for us to comprehend.

Are we all in the Upsidedown?


There’s no wonder we get trapped in a “fear–guilt–anger–despair–overwhelm cycle.”

It is the grace of Wilson’s extended human hand that makes you read on, and confront the beautiful, terrifying question: “What are we going to do about it?”

As an avid hiker, Wilson takes us on an incredible journey through hiking trails across England to Switzerland, Crete, Japan and Jordan (to name a few). As she goes, she gathers wisdom from around the globe to weave this “hopeful path forward” she has promised.

It doesn’t disappoint.

There are many strategies she offers as a way to turn our despair into action. For me, the two that resonate the most are probably the easiest to achieve:


Hike, just hike


Wilson delves into the benefits of green walks and forest bathing.


We all know that taking a walk in the bush makes us feel good. But what’s illuminating to me are studies that suggest the “healing effect of trees” is beyond some kind of esoteric feeling, and in fact routed in science.


As Wilson reflects, evolutionary responses to fear and stress were always tangible, “emotion was passed through, with the aid of the physical reaction”. In this sense, hiking is an “effective, honest and primal” way to process stress from our body.


And it doesn’t have to be a mountain climb. Even a twenty minute walk amongst trees lowers “salivary cortisol (the stress hormone) by 53 percent”.


There’s a word for the “joy of walking in nature”: biophilia. Similarly, there’s even a word for “homesickness from nature”: solastalgia.


It makes sense, then, that to reconnect with nature is the first step in the “fight to save what we love”. It is forward motion.


Start where you are

It’s easy to be defeated by the immensity of the task ahead of us – as if the small actions of one person can make any difference!

What Wilson proposes is refreshingly simple. Don’t try to be a hero, crusader, leader of some undiscovered genius to Net Zero.


Start where you are – with what is not being done, in your street, neighbourhood or workplace. Start small, ordinary, necessary. Be of service.


I struggled with this at first. And then I listened to myself, mentally berating my neighbours every time I walked past another bit of rubbish on the curb.


Start where you are at right now. With what you can already do.


The way forward is then a breathtaking relief.


“You start. Then it spreads. Action begets action. Care begets care”.


Where this forward motion takes us may indeed be a place of sacrifice or challenge beyond this “nice interlude” – such as buying less, getting comfortable with uncertainty or embracing activism.


When in doubt? One final beautiful question to set one’s moral compass by:


“Does this choice enlarge or diminish life?”


It’s a profoundly confronting question. How to be a big human, in a world that wants us to stay small?

Care less, you'll be less stressed.
I’ve been told to Care Less my whole life. But is that really the answer we’re looking for? (PS. I don’t like being told to Care Less.)

Will her book convert the science denying, anti-everything conspiracy theorists into climate activists? Probably not.


Are her lifestyle choices always relatable to the average stuck-in-a-rut full-time employed muggins, like myself? Not always.

What Wilson’s book does offer is a starting point for those of us who feel the imbalance but have no clue what to make of it, and even less what to do about it. A means of examining where we are, and how we get to where we want to be.

I’m very, very far from where I want to be. Stuck in my smallness, inside my small suburban bubble, looking out.


But what Wilson has given me is hope. I know, now, what I need to do. Or at least, I have an idea.


What will follow is an attempt to keep myself accountable, as I put one small step ahead of the other to Go Wild. Quietly.


It’s time to embrace deviance (like there was ever any other choice!). I hope you’ll join me on that journey, even if it’s just to laugh at all the dumb mistakes I make along the way.

Rage of the Heart

 

Hello. Did you miss me?

I missed me.

I think I’m nearly ready to do this thing again. Differently, though.

Go Wild. Quietly.

What does that even mean?

Our worlds have become so small. At least in Melbourne, with the world’s longest lockdown on record.

Our workplaces now reduced to two small screens, are in no way large enough to contain the petty politics of a fragmented workforce.

We’re all a little demented. Consumed with Mask Rage and Vax Rage and These-four-walls Rage.

From my upstairs window, I’ve been watching my neighbours dump regular gifts of bread for the crows to glut their babies’ bellies with.

I’m incensed with Bread Rage.

I’ve become the local mad hat, masked and gloved and stabbing my pickup stick at other people’s bread gifts.

The crows are incensed with Me.

They don’t understand. Maybe none of us do.

You might love this as much as I do: the word courage quite literally breaks down to ‘rage’ of the ‘heart’ (coeur in French).

~ Sarah Wilson, This One Wild and Precious Life

After six lockdowns totalling what will be 263 days inside our isolated urban bubbles, it’s the simple things you miss the most.

The smell of a freshly watered rainforest – no humans in sight.

The brisk, unfiltered rush of clean, inhaled air.

The happy, garbled chatter of cafe clientele, backdrop to the hiss – gurgle – crack of brewed coffee on the make.

That First. Eager. Slurp.

Freedom is the small things.

The temporary loss of these small pleasures has revealed the fault lines of our complicated, global existence.

We rage over their loss, because we don’t know how to deal with the Big. Unfathomable. Things.

Life is out of kilter. Perhaps it always was.

From the standpoint of today, what we thought was Normal is beginning to look like a fool’s wet dream. And tomorrow?

How do we re-emerge into this strangely unfamiliar Covid Normal world?

What will it look like ten or twenty or fifty years from now?

It’s through these Unfathomable Things that Sarah Wilson winds a “hopeful path forward” in her book This One Wild and Precious Life.

A book that is truly of its time, it whispered to me last year, quite by surprise, as I wandered aimlessly through a discount bookstore in what would become a rare and luxurious moment between lockdowns.

I was looking for an answer to my question: What, exactly, is going wild, quietly?

And how do I get back there?

The cover beckoned to me with an arresting image (I only later realised) of the very place where my own earliest memories of life in the wild began – out there, on the road to Cradle Mountain.

I had to buy it. And it was the most transformative read since Quiet; the Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. The perfect sequel, in a way, on my Go Wild. Quietly quest.

Tune in to my next post and beyond, where I delve into a review of the book and its power to enlarge one’s world.

Where are you at these days?

Plastics PostScript

“A thing’s greatest weakness
is also its greatest strength.”

~ Horrorshow (reworked)

So I freaked myself out with last week’s post. I had a dream where I visited the future.

Took a drive and found myself airborne over Seattle. We flew higher and higher and I was feeling greener and greener…

I cast a glance over my shoulder through the rear windscreen. There, in the process of construction, snaked a giant coastal fortress made entirely of rubbish.

“Holy crap,” I thought, “we’re living in Wall-E!!”

Wall E

It’s almost the sequel to a dream I had 18 years ago.

My family were shipwrecked at sea. The lone survivor, I was washed up in the year 2020 where everything moved at warp speed – even the garbage collection, which was taken up by little men in green spacesuits, running around with industrial sized wheelie bins!

It’s frightening living in my brain. I promise after this I’ll stop talking rubbish 😉

But a couple of things were brought to my attention this week that I had to share.

First, the ugly beautiful.

Chris Jordan, the filmmaker of the shocking albatross story, is also an artist. He’s created an amazing series of images that put into perspective the  “increasingly enormous, incomprehensible and overwhelming” reality of our collective existence. Check it out – it’ll blow your mind! Thanks Sean Bidd for the share 🙂

Second, the plastic fantastic.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, right? Valerie Davies pointed me to a man in Japan who has invented a “plastic-to-oil-fantastic” solution to all the non-recyclable plastics we consume. Just check out this video (thanks, Valerie!):

“The home is the oil field of the future.”

~ Akinori Ito

With incredible simplicity, this man has put a solution within reach of all us little people. Together with Boyan Slat’s ocean hoover, and our own efforts to reduce plastic usage, change suddenly seems infinitely more achievable.

I think I’m on the verge of doing something drastic. Like selling the car to buy one of these oil making machines (as of last update, the cost was $12,700 US).

We already have the answers to all the world’s problems. As some of you pointed out, what’s missing is the awareness and, quite possibly, the will. But maybe with one, comes the other – and when that happens…

Butterfly Nebula

Butterfly Nebula – image source NASA

…shine, shine, dead star shine.

~ Horrorshow

Think I’ve done my dash with horror stories for this month! I’m changing my fortnightly schedule to continue from this week, as I’ll be caught up with family commitments on the off weekends.

So, until next time, have a Happy Halloween!

Message in a Bottle

“Why move through the oceans
if the oceans can move through you?”

~ Boyan Slat

Mantaray

‘Manta Ray Cleaning Station’ courtesy NOAA’s National Ocean Service

A few months ago I clicked on a YouTube link that said “this film should be seen by the entire world!”

Yeah, right. I thought. Which twerk is it this time?

But, for once, the claim was true. If you haven’t already, please watch it. I don’t care if it gives you nightmares, because WE ALL DID THIS.

The images from that video have been burned in my brain, suffocating me (and no doubt the million other viewers) with despair because I can’t do a thing about it.

Or so I thought.

Luckily, someone much cleverer than I am is working on a solution Right Now.

Watch this TEDx talk and tell me you’re not blown away by the simplicity of an idea that began with one small admission:

“It will be very hard to convince everyone in the world to handle their plastics responsibly, but what we humans are very good at, is inventing technical solutions to our problems.”

What that reads to me is:

Let’s just admit we’re not going to change (this century), and find another way until we do…

Bottle

‘Why’ courtesy Andrea Zanivan

Inside the shell of memory
I hear
The squalling of the ocean
And the sound of
Hope on our horizon
Washing out to sea.

What’s the message
In the bottle
She would send to me?

She giveth and
She taketh away
And somewhere
Out of sight and mind
There lies an answer
Buried in the bellies
Of our shame.

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
And everything returns
From whence it came.

Deliverance.

Follow the current
And we find
The sirens’ call is not
The journey’s end.

What price – Hope?
What cost – Dreams?

Surrender.

Not to what we should be
But to what it is we are.
Nine tenths of reality.
Could change be
As simple as
The turning of the tide
Of what we see?

Sure, there are the critics out there who say this just won’t work. But the best ideas always sound far fetched – until they do. Does that mean we shouldn’t even ask ‘What if’?

“We created this mess. Heck, we even invented this new material [plastic] before we made this mess! So please. Don’t tell me we can’t clean this up. Together.”

~ Boyan Slat
19 yo Aerospace Engineering Student

Tell me, what do you hear? Naivety? Arrogance? Or possibility?

Life is a Dance

There’s a lot being said lately about the end of the world as we know it.  We all feel it – from the economy to the Antarctic, a world on the edge of meltdown.

It’s almost reassuring to flirt with the idea that the Mayans might be right about The End.  How good would that be?  No Christmas, no New Year’s resolutions to be broken, no more difficult life changing decisions to be made.  Most importantly, no more fear, uncertainty or guilt.

I wonder.  What is it about doomsday prophecies that find us a little unhinged?

Near where I live, there’s a place I like to go and walk.  In many ways, it’s an unremarkable beach in what was once a working class village on the ‘wrong’ side of town.

But at a certain spot, it’s possible to pause and look across the bay, and imagine you are standing on the edge of the world.

No people in sight.

Altona Panorama

It’s like your brain opens up, and all of a sudden, you can breathe again.

In those moments, when it’s all stripped back and there’s nothing but you and the swans who’ve come to nurse their young, you remember.

This tired earth on which we stand – it all comes back to her.

Earth.  Water.  Fire.  Air.

In the flurry of our busy, elaborate lives, sometimes we forget how much we are in need of her.

Need is not a word we like to use.  It connotes weakness.  Dependency.  Responsibility.  It frightens us.

It means there’s a chance we could get hurt.

But it’s also the moment when we acknowledge we can no longer take her for granted.

When we see we have a role to play.

When change and renewal can begin.

Manly

Doomsday prophecies offer freedom.  But they also suggest things may be out of balance, and perhaps we are to blame.  In the words of Buffy’s sister, Dawn…

“The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.”

– (Once More with Feeling, 2001).

As we approach holiday season, and if life as we know it doesn’t end on 21 December, this is the perfect time to begin anew.

To remember the loved ones whom we take for granted.

To breathe in the air, and thank the earth for what she gives.

To see ourselves as one among the elements.  And remember our steps in this dance we call Life.

Do you have any plans to get away this Christmas?  What will you be doing to recharge?