Monday, June 4, 2012

there is a love

you've live on the edge of
your own life
danced with the devil
drunk with the angels
prayed with the sinners
cast out the dancers
dreams and ambitions and all that you love
we'll take it in our stride

the road has been long
but there is a love

the loves been good
the love's been here
the loves been working
and it will take
you home
yes it will take
you home
its
already
taking you home

the children are watching
big eyes
the heros
of our world
those big eyes
moons and suns and stars
to bring us home

Saturday, April 7, 2012

when we can not see

where are you i have
nothing here but
a life
unlived
where are you i'd like to know they
said focus on the goal
of the continual beginning
but i am seeking
something that does not exist
what if it does will that happiness
ever come again it was so close only
a short time ago and now there is sadness
despite the abundance where are you
i can not seem to see
the love in every gesture
of every flower
that ever lived


Wednesday, March 28, 2012

starlight shadows

long day finished but work is not i'm
sitting here ready for pre-sleep thoughts and driftings
reflections on my own lack of courage and that
dratted impatience; i'm wondering
about the usefulness of drugs for my
wandering
mind
(diagnosis came in recently: yes, i qualify)

all those moments of connect-disconnect-intention-fulfilled-missed
throughout the day
coworkers and cows and criminal reports
food - cream and squash and fresh salad

that moment when i felt so connected to you
looking for a phrase a word
something besides the ones that are used too often
and have little meaning
they are scrounged around and dried up,
those common words.

give me another word for 'like'.
give me another word for - .

memories and present-moment interweave:
the feel of my quickly-growing hair (your hands in it, mine in yours)
heading towards warm sheets and heavy blankets in the cold spring air
the memory of tasting your salty sweaty skin, of trying not to watch you
sleeping knowing that my desire would surely
show
and the boys would surely
know
how much I wanted to
be with you upon your waking
bring you in me
as one brings in the sunrise
with such joy
and
surprise

fear: you will soon discover i'm not 'all that' and your head will be turned
by another set of eyes and laughter closer to home.

reality: i keep discovering how much i don't know about what's
possible....

give me another word for 'like'
give me another word for 'connection'

perhaps - starlight
those constellations at a distance
drawing patterns and dancing with one another
illuminating the way for others
who cross dark oceans
navigate dangerous waters
on the road to trade love freedom adventure the
sea-farers
who found their way by stars

a thousand candles
a thousand breaths
and two people
sleeping
under one sky

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Navigating chaos through ritual: London Feasting

In complexity-sciences lexicon, Occupy London could be said to be 'at the edge of chaos'. There are some things we know about systems at the edge of chaos that we can apply to the internal and external 'chaos' that both enables and constrains this particular manifestation of a global disquiet with the inequality and non-sustainability that stains our current socio-economy.

One might bear in mind that the use of metaphors from chaos theory for human systems, which are always, on some level, complex (that is to say, humans working together are inherently connected and learn from one another) can be quite problematic and should be done with care. Metaphors are some of our most powerful tools for creating change. Still, last night I was able to make it practical and useful for a small group of change-makers within Occupy London. Hopefully by sharing it here, it can support others.

It started when I showed up at the 'bank of ideas' for a conversation about health systems as a form of Commons. Since I'm thinking of the potential use of a commons-framework for some work I'm doing, this seemed a good use of a Saturday afternoon. What I had not appreciated (because I can be amazingly daft) is that I was going to the 'other Occupy London' site - a former Bank, now completely cleaned of computers and tables and chairs and filled, instead, with workshop space, a loose community of people sleeping, guitar-playing, ping-ponging, samosa-making and scheming on some worn-down leather couches And cold: they don't exactly have the budget for the heating bill. Nevertheless, this international, somewhat ragged group of occupiers is sitting between Barclays and HSBC, painting flowers on walls and holding workshops on taxation in a building worth 55 million - and paying nothing for it. Such is one of the shapes of today's manifestation of globalisation.

The discussion of the Health Commons never happened.

Instead I attended a discussion on Integral Activism (that's Integral using Ken Wilbur's frameworks) which was trying to figure out how to bring some degree of 'development' (Wilbur style) to the internal chaos, lack of communication and uneasy diversity that the (rather white, rather male, rather young) and distinctly unstructured inner workings of Occupy. I suggested that they not talk too explicitly about Integral theory and instead focus on some relatively easy, concrete actions that could enable greater communication/community/'we space' and even some bridge-making, collective reflection. I subsequently bailed early and bummed my way into a discussion on the Future of Occupy, held in one of the warmer rooms of the building - what was probably once a coveted corner office and now held a (very nice) blow up mattress, something that resembled a bookshelf , some chairs and a group of 'Commoners' and others I didn't know. Including a few Full Timers. Who were having almost exactly the same conversation as the Integral folks - how to enable greater connectivity and something that resembled order amidst a very, very open system (people coming and going a great deal with minimal consistancy). This group, though, was less concerned about 'inner work' and more concerned about strategic direction. They were talking about using scenario planning as a way of working with the different options before them. I wondered what Jonathan Porritt would do with such a disparate group of people. Like so many others, he's walked around the camps. And like so many others, the good folks at Occupy and he haven't figured out what, if anything, they can do to support one another besides sharing some metaphors, sentiments and considerations.

Towards the end of the discussion I finally saw the pattern: there was a fair amount of internal 'chaos' in a very 'open system' (ok, yes, I know, strictly speaking, chaotic systems are closed, not open) with a high level of inherent uncertainty. There was no structure to help the chaos move towards complexity - to form patterns of interaction that could stabilise into something that resembled order.

And us humans - we love order. Oh, I know, we hate it also. But collectively creating order and making patterns and meaning is one of our most ancient and even sacred collective tasks. It was then that the words of Dave Snowden came resounding back to me: one of the ways that we humans - unlike 'agents' in the complex adaptive systems studied at places like the Santa Fe Institute - create order is through ritual.


So this is the story I told. It's not, strictly speaking, true. But it's a good story.

Occupy London formed out of chaos. It was never sure if this self-organised new social movement would survive more than a few hours, a few days. But, against the odds, it has survived. It continues to grow, and to form new patterns of interaction. At first, it was mostly concerned with logistics and the basic survival needs of food, warmth, shelter and safety. While these are still a concern, it is slightly less than it used to be. It is now struggling to become more complex - that is, it is struggling to learn together even as it broadens to include the rest of the '99%'. This is a natural occurance. There is nothing wrong with the experience of frustration that is so common here. In fact, we might even see it as a good sign - provided some degree of consistant people can stick with it. This is now the time when we need to come to know one another in what we Quakers call 'that which is eternal'. The natural way that happens is around the significant passages of our lives: births, deaths, marriages. The daily General Assemblies are such rituals that give structure and collective meaning to chaos, enabling the slow formation of order.

But we don't have to wait for more marriages or deaths. There is another ritual that we can use: Feast Days.

Feasting brings the community together in celebration of itself and the world around it.

So what about a Feast Day in February, in celebration of a Wealthy City, or, in Celebration of Light (February is a dark month in England) and Love (and let people make the Valentines Day connection only if they want to)? It would be a chance for all 3 Occupy spaces in London to come together. It would enhance communication, community and happiness. If we did it at St Pauls, it could bring in the very rich local food movements. We could invite all the local communities to come and share their food - and with it, their culture. We would have one rule: bring it yourself, and no vendors allowed. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would use the currency issued by the Bank of England (or any other bank for that matter). We are celebrating True Wealth here. The Wealth of the Commons.

And we could do it every month, and make it a real ritual! Someone popped in.

A monthly feast day? I thought to myself.... not exactly normal.... but in this highly chaotic situation where no one knows how long they can stay here, and in a city like London - which loves, loves eating - that might not be a bad idea.

Exactly, I responded. (Sometimes the pretense of certainty is helpful.)

So there's now a small group of people keen on organising this. Stay tuned for future developments - and get in touch if you've got ideas.

I actually won't be here in February - I'll be India. Though this blog is staying put, in that dynamic, nothing-ever-disappears way that the internet is so good at. And if it happens in March - if 'we' are still around in March, if the Eurozone hasn't driven us all into some other space, if the plans for Rio haven't torn everyone away from Finance, if if if if if .....
well. We'll still be eating in March.

And there's nothing like breaking bread together to find the love that brought all of us into this precious little world to begin with.