A Power Play

There is one thing I enjoyed about not keeping an eye of the rolling news stories and it was that I got less caught up in the party political soap opera of Parliament. We live in a sensationalised world, not just the constant need to excite through 24/7 news channels but through the algorithms on social media that feed us constant anguish and thrills. They know what makes us tick and they’ve tapped into it. It’s so easy when writing this blog just to go onto a news website or see what Facebook has to say, and find enough material in one article on politicians and face masks for example to write something suitably scathing about dithering so called leaders bumbling their way to an end result we don’t notice because we couldn’t actually understand what they were saying. You see I’ve just done it there. It’s just too easy. They’re not inept, they’re incredibly good at what they’re doing, but it’s also obvious and therefore a treasure trove of things to write about.

At what point though do we stop listening and just get on with life. I’ve touched on all this before of course, it’s impossible not to bring up certain themes over again when writing every day. But when do we ignore the theatre of democracy, accept the demos are impotent and watch the shit show go on regardless. I feel powerless, these last five years politically have been incredibly trying and demoralising. Scotland voted no to independence from Britain, England voted yes to independence from the EU and England voted no to the first leader in generations who actually seemed to want to make positive changes to society for people. Instead we overwhelmingly got Boris. As you can see I think we are being dragged down by the English but I’m also wary of putting a single egg in a nationalist basket even if it is one promising liberation over subjugation. Politics has moved to the right and while there are signs of it’s coming back to, well, the centre-right, I am not filed with confidence.

Which means I am at the point of being defeated. Or maybe I already have, maybe that happened ten years ago when I naively thought myself an environmental activists and nothing changed. Of course I’m not defeated, I wouldn’t be writing this if I was, but this is no rallying call. I’m not all of a sudden going to build some ramparts and run up them. It is an acknowledgement though that there are people out there, people much smarter and with far more determination than me fighting for and enacting change. There’s a reason we don’t have a twelve hour work day and it’s not because of keyboard warriors like me. But then again everyone at all levels is important, even those blindly repeating lies and rhetoric in the cesspit at the bottom. If I believe in a holistic approach to the health of our bodies, why not believe it for the health of our societies. We are not just a series of strata within a hierarchy of power, that is not a healthy society. That is power, that is personal self-interest and that is exactly what we are hooked on with party politics. How can society nurture it’s people when it’s leader’s focus is ultimately themselves. While it is time to take the power back, it’s probably more the time to readdress our understanding and relationship with power generally. It is just a word and a concept after all, it’s down to us what we make of it.

A Walk On The Beach

I went on a walk to the beach yesterday. It was one of those walks that you feel you could just walk on and on with no consideration for returning. With every step you are adding an extra one for the return but you just want to continue. It helped that there was a wind pushing me from behind and persuading me to take the easy option of avoiding turning and facing it. Eventually you do just for curiosity and once around a spell is broken as you see how bloody far you must return.

The wind was blowing a layer of dusty sand over the compact wet post-tidal sand under foot and it appeared like I was walking upstream in a river. I lowered my hood and took off my hat so as to feel the true force of nature on my skin. In turn I eyed the sea, it’s infinite refreshing of anything attempting to remain unchanged. With that the stagnant air and weight I felt under, crushing me and my mind, the wind trying it’s best to blow off the shackles but it became clear the sea was only ever the master of all. On I walked in the direction of home.

As the end of the beach became clearer and my opportunity to discover a fresh new existence was running out, the once quiet argument within became louder with each step. To strip off and jump in or to stay clear of the elements and their liberation. Finally with little but rocks left the jacket was determinedly unzipped and the shoes and socks taken off. But in that moment some sense of fear took over, the decision was made to simply dip my feet and see how it felt. If ever this was a moment for why the best approach is always to just jump before you have time to think or feel it was now. On the other hand if ever there was a time to prove caution is the master it too was now.

When the sea is at it’s coldest I couldn’t tell you but with the summer suns yet to appear the winter chill still held sway over the icy cold. The water was no higher than my ankles before I turned in pain, the nerves on my feet sending crisis alarms to my brain and demanding I abort this folly. It is said a cold shower or a cold dip in the sea will extend your life but in that moment a swim may have been an abrupt finale. I turned and scampered to the sun. With that my feet tingled, the fire and ice that a freeze can bring. On came the socks, with laughter at myself and my own one man comedy show performed for nobody I scampered home and to the equally refreshing but infinitely more enjoyable warm shower, clean clothes and comfy sofa. Enough of these harsh elements, now it is time to grow soft as life determines it should be.