Where do we go from here...
Aquarius 1 // dystopian hellscape or collective care?
The blessed Sun is finally shining after weeks of foggy, dismal days. We’ve had icy mist and fog every day this week and we were disappointed to miss the full Moon. Thankfully, as we waited for the bus this morning the Sun peeked through the early morning cloud cover and we enjoyed a chorus of birdsong - cardinals, robins & nuthatch! The birds don’t mind the gray days, and they are a sweet reminder that we are halfway to spring1! CW: today I talk about dystopian fiction and some personal fears around catastrophe & prepper mindset. This time of year is difficult enough with lack of sunlight, I hope you’re taking gentle care of yourself.
I have stopped reading dystopian fiction.
It used to be one of my favorite genres - top of list along with science fiction and fantasy. Station Eleven. Cloud Atlas. The Handmaid’s Tale. The Bone Clocks. The Expanse. There is a dark and honest part of me that relished these stories about the world utterly falling apart. They spoke to the most cynical parts of me. And, of course, when you’re raised evangelical it’s not really a stretch to imagine the world going to hell in a hand-basket.
When pushed to the brink (by calamity, pandemic, aliens or conscious AI) why wouldn’t we turn on each other? Why wouldn’t greed and pride be an end to us?
I also loved the thrill of taking mental inventory of my own scrappy know-how. Would I have what it takes to survive the End of things? Could I forage for food? Could I build a shelter/fire/weapon to protect myself for some unknown future civilization? Would I be able to build community? Could I withstand the terrifying uncertainty?
I loved the intellectual challenge.
But I just don’t enjoy them anymore. My brain doesn’t need any help whatsoever envisioning worst case scenarios for our world. I’ve been humbled by a global pandemic and political extremism that my younger self couldn’t predict. My brain can construct a dystopian reality all on its own now.
Shortly after covid lockdown we attempted to watch the TV adaptation of Station Eleven. We stopped partway through because whenever we watched it my heart would race like I was being chased by a bear. Then I started reading Octavia Butler’s book, Parable of the Sower2. And shortly after that I began waking up in the middle of the night to sounds like a door slam or a gunshot. Each a figment of my hyper-vigilant imagination. I would ruminate on whether I should stock up on more dry goods, or buy a generator. These thoughts led to waves of panic washing over me as I imagined trying to barricade our house or make a quick escape with three small children, one of whom uses a wheelchair!
In the 5 of Swords we see the end of a fierce competition or conflict and the winner stands smugly in the foreground. It is clear that even though he has “won” much has been lost. 5s in the tarot are often associated with conflict, energetic contraction, and loss. Loss of connection, good will, trust.Where do we go from here?
We are living in 5 of Swords time. The amount of loss and division is overwhelming most days. And so much of the conflicts we see in the world are ideological - operating in our minds3 but then manifesting in our actions and choices and politics. Hateful ideology spews out all over our screens, in comment sections, headlines, and school board meetings. Our ideas about gender harm real people. Our ideas about religion keep real people from having basic safety and human rights. Our ideas about history are giving governments the permission to drop bombs on children, because we are on the “right side.”
We are the “winners” - but what have we lost4?
I started reading Becky Chamber’s book, A Psalm for the Wild-Built, this week and I am loving it so much. It is set in the fictional future world of Panga, where robots have recently become spontaneously conscious. But instead of the robots immediately turning on humankind and ushering in apocalypse, the robots decide to leave in peace and relocate to the wilderness. Panga5 is not a utopia, but it is a peaceful world where people meet each other’s needs, find purpose in meaningful work, and share inter-being as a common value. As I read I find my shoulders dropping and my stomach unclenching.
Books like this remind me that another world is possible if we have the courage to imagine it! Violence and desolation are not inevitable. Like the tiny seeds getting ready to wake under the earth right now, we have to hope for a future we can’t yet see. We must begin by practicing with our own thoughts & imagination. What stories about the world do we tell ourselves? Which games do we want to play? Do we see the people around us as collaborators or enemies? Can we set down our 5 swords and walk into the world without armoring up, even just some of the time?
“Our attention is focused on classifying, analyzing, and determining levels of wrongness rather than on what we and others need and are not getting.”
“Peace cannot be built on the foundation of fear.”
“All violence is the result of people tricking themselves into believing that their pain derives from other people and that consequently those people deserve to be punished.” Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication
I still think dystopian fiction is very important. Through stories6 we can see our lives reflected in a fictional world that is similar but also very different than our own. We can learn about the consequences of patriarchy through the rich imagination of Margaret Atwood. We can see the power of the resilient human spirit through the worlds of Panem or the Republic of Gilead - how humans can care for each other in the worst of circumstances. And we can expand our theology with Octavia Butler.
But right now I’m focusing on putting down my swords. I’m reading hopeful science fiction7, stories of community resourcefulness, and practical books like Nonviolent Communication. I’m packing lunches with little notes that remind my kids that they are lovable and so are all the other kids in their class. I’m not listening to the news or reading headlines. I’m focusing on things that can make my home and my street and community as safe as can be. I’m painting and making music and reading poems because the only sword I’m willing to wield in this fight is my infinitely creative imagination.
Any maybe like a tiny seed on Imbolc, I can let the sun warm my heart. Maybe I can courageously extend compassion to myself and those around me, to create ripples of care out into the gray, desolate world.
Tomorrow is Imbolc - my kids favorite word to say & my favorite cross-quarter holiday to remember to trust the future we can’t yet see. I actually wrote about it last year, and thought I’d share again. It is apparent that at this time last year I was still trying to figure out my writing voice, but I also love that my affection for the wheel of the year is not waning.
I also thought I’d share another lovely Imbolc post from
Swords are associated with element of Air and the mind. Like the air which can’t be seen but can move & change the landscape, thoughts/ideas/theology shape the world.
I wrote a few weeks back about how I’m done playing games I don’t want to play! If our certainty around our thoughts and beliefs is what got us into this mess, we need new thoughts - flexible thoughts, playful & caring thoughts, deeply creative thoughts.
“....We're machines, and machines are objects. Objects are its."
"I'd say you're more than just an object," Dex said.
The robot looked a touch offended. "I would never call you just an animal, Sibling Dex." It turned its gaze to the road, head held high. "We don't have to fall into the same category to be of equal value.”
― Becky Chambers, A Psalm for the Wild-Built
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so beautifully said this week, “And what a gift that is. Stories can break empires; they can tell our hearts we’re not alone. They make us laugh. They make us grateful to be alive.”This quote from Psalm for the Wild Built feels like big sword-energy to me. It expresses both the benefits and limitations of our mind/ideas/thoughts. “Without constructs, you will unravel few mysteries. Without knowledge of the mysteries, your constructs will fail. These pursuits are what make us, but without comfort, you will lack the strength to sustain either.”
I shocked myself by watching, and actually loving, the Station Eleven limited series on HBO. And during a pandemic, no less. I totally understand having a somatic reaction to it, and respect people who just don’t wish to put themselves through that. But I found it so fundamentally humane, maybe even kind, that I stuck with the subject matter. I adored it. I think I even did a Blue Room podcast about it ?
"I’m painting and making music and reading poems because the only sword I’m willing to wield in this fight is my infinitely creative imagination."
✊🏽