It´s simple. I spent two days struggling with my manuscript, watching series on Netflix (the americans, I like it a lot plus the returned), I spent two days reading online newspapers, I spent two days eating candy. Which is not to excuse myself but to point towards a correlation between universal black hole depression and not doing “what you are supposed to do” (I feel like I am supposed eat healthy, wear orthopedic shoes, be kind to animals)
Doing what we are supposed to do – might be important for personal health.
….I´m just supposed to be following popular culture too. Even though I live in the wild, my life is a life of extremities, I´ve accepted that now and this is why:
I have always had a problem with the “turn your back to the world and be happy” solution. I have always had a problem with the inherent egoism in prepper/perma culture: we can´t deal with the world, we downsize and downscale and refuse to take part in the monoculture (but the suppression continues) and I somehow feel that none of us can be free before all of us are free.
ON THE OTHER HAND I can´t live in the culture. It makes me sick to the bone, ethically, psychically.
(if you need your faith in human kind restored though – read the comments on my post from yesterday. We can fight this sickness. Together)
Once a lady came to our doorsteps. She´d been broken down by the system and was all shaking and disturbed, neurotic, on edge, it wasn´t comfortable to hang out with her but we did it anyways, out of pity I suppose. She was so clinically stressed that she couldn´t breathe. Sometimes she would grasp for air, sometimes she would go lay down because of headaches and pains.
She said it was the system. She knew it was the system. “This whole system is a lie” she said, her voice was shaking, “everyone I know is so far out, clinging to the edge with their fingertips”
She couldn´t read newspapers. We couldn´t talk about politics around her. She couldn´t be on facebook, read blogs nor even think about the slaves who are producing our “luxury goods”. She shoke her head and became kind of aggressive every time we spoke of anything other than the absolute now. She just couldn´t deal so she closed her eyes and pretended that it wasn´t there. Like a hedgehog in the front lights of a car. Freeze!
I don´t think that is a solution… because she KNOWS. I know. We know.
You can´t unknow just because you want to, just because it would be more comfortable, just because you can´t deal or it makes you depressed.
Maybe we´re supposed to be depressed once in a while?
Maybe we haft to bear witness?
I know this might sound like some kind of selfhurt and it´s not because I think life per se should suck or that we are essentially sinners- it´s just that I estimate the danger to be very REAL.
We HAFT to acknowledge. We HAFT to see. It´s NOT in our heads (only). You can´t choose that it dosn´t exist. It does. It´s real.
I´d like to show you what I did yesterday, after the depression.
I´d like to show you because sometimes this world, the forest world, holds an amazing power of me. Grounding. All of the time.
I´d go insane if I didn´t have that.
It makes me happy. So happiness… is being able to ground… maybe?
Waiting for the rain to pass. It´s not like we´re busy, we never really busy, we own our own time.
Every second sunday the people of the forest meet, to hang out, drink coffee, eat cake, talk about the weather, share experiences, problemsolving, learning from eachother. We take turns at hosting, yesterday it was up at Thines place.
It´s funny, isn´t it?
Maybe it´s a very telling fact about humans?
We live in the vastness of endless forest, giant, eternal wild. But we parallel park. We always parallel park.
See those two small mountains?
When we first came to the forest that´s where we settled, close to those two mountains. Wolves live up there.
We used to hear them howl all of the time.
Back home we sit down by out by the campfire. It´s been raining hard but the low pressure is loosening.
We watch the world breathe. It really does breathe. Vapor. A warm body rising, sinking, rising.
“Why were you in such a bad mood?” he asks. I shrug. Silence. Kid picking small flowers.
“Why have humans always had slaves?”
“I don´t think we have”
“Even the vikings had slaves” My eyes wander, my fingers walk, up and down my leg, I´m bored, maybe. I continue “I think it came with agriculture”.
“So you´re in a bad mood because of slaves?”
“Yeah. I mean… why didn´t they run? And why does the homeless people in the city not run. The weak and the poor, they´re being preyed upon, trampled down, spit upon… I don´t understand that total lack of hope, I don´t understand… surrender”
“Well don´t get too cocky, it could be us you know”
“No no, yeah yeah… but why do people give up, why live if you have given up?”
It´s the election and the lynch mobbing of the foreigners and the poor, it´s climate change and corruption, evil empire. Sometimes I think the artists are merely gladiators. We´ve just been fighting over the “spoiled young girls” of contemporary Danish literature (it´s always the girls and the women, you know that by now)
“It´s funny with you. You hardly speak for a whole day and then the first thing you utter is something about slaves….”
“Yeah, I´m sorry”
I continue “It’s not like I think the slaves are to be blamed though, it´s this whole class system and exploitation…. you know?”
” I know” (that´s why I love him. That- and his fish tank eyes, his muscles and the way he makes me laugh)
Then we follow the clouds movements on the sky.
“Maybe you should go for a walk” he says.
“Yeah” I say.
I sit with the camera for a while. I find an exiting new button.
“I´ll go pick some pine sprouts”
I pick some almost every day.
I store them in oil and use them in salads and stews through winter, they´re really good, kind of pepper-y and pineaple- y and a bit of asparagus -y.
We cross the creek and find amazing things, like…. small trees in the moss, mirroring the larger world.
And then we go home.
I handle the pine sprouts (you have to scrape this brown stuff, just a little bit, it tastes like resin)
I use flax-seed oil (and dream about being able to produce it myself)
Extremely healthy. Like squirrels. Like storing small pine trees in the spring.
It would be nice if I could finish this post real elegant but I don´t think I can. But hey, wait, I´m reading this book Poul La Cour (“fragments of a diary”) I love that book, overflowing with beautiful quotes:
“Any life explanation that is not dialectical hides for me a great deception. It is constituted in such a way that it cannot contain truth. Have you not the courage of the paradoxical and the self contradictory then I cannot trust you”