Tag Archives: activism

Buds and Blossoms in the Lights of Chaos

Yesterday I was unsurprised to hear of another ‘Isis’ attack, this time on the completely innocent petty bourgeois white slightly Islamophobic Parisian comic Charlie Hebdo, and for the media to get their spin right this time around, with no widespread compassionate action campaign like what came about from the ‘Sydney Siege’ (not Sydney Street Siege, where Winston Churchill famously allowed two gun-wielding anarchists to be torched alive).  Yesterday morning, the media was quick to point their fingers right into the noses of every Muslim alive, stating that it was the radicalisation of their religion that caused the death of 12 innocent people.  Under a month ago, the first story I read about the situation in Sydney was about the response of hundreds of thousands of people in Australia, offering the ‘#illridewithyou’ support, letting the Muslim community and other minority communities know that, amidst this heightened level of discrimination that minority communities were sure to experience in the wake of the incident, there will be plenty of people to publicly support them whilst on public transport.

Less than a month on, the magic of heartfelt-action seems to need rekindling.  There has not arisen a similar kind of response.  People are responding with fear, and calling themselves Charlie when, maybe, they do not know what this implies.  A number of academics and high-profile activists have already spoken out against following with the crowds in this manner.  That Charlie Hebdo was, actually, pointing fingers in the wrong directions, in divisive ways, in ways much aligned with the French Front Nationale (far-right extremists who have been found responsible for a few other ‘false flag’ events).

I feel lucky, or, more, well-watched-down-upon, to be alive today.  I have a purpose here.  I have a reason to be alive.  I have something major that I am actively here for.
A year ago, I was feeling like I was on the edge of life, and I was struggling to remain calm at the edge of life.  I was becoming intense.  Wherever I would go, it would be the right place for me to be.  I was full of an energy of change, of directly affecting the world around me in the biggest ways possible, but in the most loving ways possible, at all times.  I knew, though, that to live in this world, to live amidst a world that is based on different values, whereby the base value of survival is not important to most people, I needed to change direction or else the message would be lose even from myself.
I sought to root myself.  To do something more socially-centred, to connect on more shallow but more common grounds.  I was feeling exasperated by the situations I was putting myself in.  Nothing was quite working.  I was able to get a short-term thing going, like working at a festival or with doing travel surveys, but something still wasn’t right.
And then I moved here.  In these woods, I’ve found a softness, and found myself being looked after, and somewhat cherished.  I’ve found a normality of living that comes easier for me, that flows better, that I can see myself growing through.


Two nights after my last piece of writing, which I cried hours over writing, I came very close to ending this bodily existence.  It was a terrible mistake, but extremely real.  I woke at 6am to a thumping from downstairs.  The dogs were both alerted too, and faintly barked.  I put a torch on, and there was thick smoke.

I think this has moved me into new directions.  I have told the free education activists that I’ve dropped out of their actions, at least until further notice.  The energy needs to go somewhere radically different.  To something more consistent to the karmic nature of this existence.  Every evening for the last week or so, I’ve been in bed with such a weight that has needing me to be meditating plenty, that has needed me to look deep inside for comfort.  I’ve realised that the external comforts, even those offered by friendly eyes around me, family and friends, are so nourishing that, through a lot of this, I’ve lost connection with the intimate spiritual nature of my existence.  I’ve lost touch with it, I’ve been distracted.  I received a huge teaching over the last week.  With the intensity of things going on, I’ve seen the Buddhist teaching of Right Speech and Right Action.  So much of speech is useless, is created through erratic or needy energy, and ends up having a draining effect.  I love being in silent presence with other people.  We break the silence to say our useless stuff, and then go back to the silence.  Same goes for actions.

I realise, as I keep realising again and again throughout this life, that this is done on my own.  There are people that will come and will go from being around me.  And there are feelings, sensations, experiences, that will come and go.  I will most probably come and go, too.  But I can find a warm sense of truth in the nature of my solitary path.  It’s a path emblazened with light and is shimmering as well as trembling.  It will end when it is time to end, and it will weave in and out of things as weavings need.  Had I not heard thumping, had I not acted so sharply, I may have burnt to ash in those moments.  How am I supposed to respond to this?  My response will never be how it is ‘supposed to be’.  It is what it is.  Joyfully solitary.  Riding the waves till the big one, that will take this body on to new soils.  Clasping nothing, but the beating heart that electrifies the sounds in my ears.  Just holding it, never wanting to remember what it feels like because it feels like a bloody treasure trove every time I reach into it.

We have got to be spreading more love and light around the world, whether physically or spiritually, just spread it as far as it can go, and then spread it further.

#IllRideWithYou, always ❤

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When I close my eyes I see a tunnel of lights and 3D motion

I recapture things that haven’t been lived in a long time.

Closing my eyes, I have a fierce pulse penetrating this feeble body, jerking and spasming it about as possessed by the sounds, an innoculation to life and depth.
My eyes roll back, all I see are visions, and they are so beautifully resounding, kind of like as if the sweetest voice that sings these melodies has become my vision.

I realise where I am now.  It’s been a good few weeks since I last felt I had a day to myself, a day off, a chance to regroup a little.  Taking things at a pace that is not defined by anything external.
I bathed myself for over an hour, with a sock full of porridge oats.  It was the sweetest thing, to pour this creamy, soothing oitment all over this tarnished skin.

Forest living is cool, really cool.  I’m growing my toenails out to fit with my new lifestyle.  I’ve been growing them for a few months now, and I feel the special powers that they’re accumulating.
There’s some forest magic going on in these parts.  I haven’t felt this safe and connected to my existence in time.  I got a 125cc scooter to speed me around, and suddenly I’m finding new forms of freedoms.

I go to the activist meetings in Bath for actions I can’t get to because I have to work, or return home, yada yada, but everyone knows that I work on a spontaneous basis and that the truest forms of action are always those that come spontaneously and are so entirely spiritually energised that it doesn’t matter if there are only two of you rolling around town with some drums and flags and stuff.  It doesn’t matter if all your singing is a wordless tune.  Because when you find a crowd of 20 surrounding you, all singing that tune you came up with half an hour before and you’re all jumping into the air with hands held to the sky and people having spiritual experiences…..the revolution won’t be televised, nor publicised beforehand, or even thought out in the slightest.  When it comes, it comes.  It’s great to come together, and something is moving as a result of our coming together.  The revolution flies its own wings, and will string itself to its own devices at the right times.

I recently found myself in a situation of talking to someone about my sexuality.  They had suggested that something that I had said suggested that I was gay, and I responded firstly in defence, then in questioning, arguing firstly that my sexality shouldn’t be defined by a particular action or by what someone says about me, and then asking ‘and what if I were gay?’.  Of course, being ‘confused’ as I am, I do not choose to call myself anything, to categorise myself in any way, and certainly would never suggest that I am a permanent identity.  What I am now is more than definitely going to change over time, as has happened plentifully before.

There are these moments I’ve had, as a novice biker, where I’ve been very thankful for all the protection that I must be receiving.  just when I roll down a hill a little too fast, and realise a little too late that there’s a corner and my braking is all too sudden and the turning of the corner is cutting things rather fine.  I’m gradually learning, but through freaking myself out at times.  But there’s nothing better, at the moment, than a long stretch of slightly uphill straight and smooth road, that I can rock up to 60 on.  Speeding away from the cars that were seeming to get frustrated with my slower pace on going around the bends and stuff.  I can’t do roundabouts.  Ellie told me that i’m born to live in Wiltshire.  Noone can do roundabouts.  And it’s so wacky, and silently lively.

So here’s to life.  Here’s to living and breathing in tune with what feels right within ourselves, in every instant.  To not worrying about any reaction, as our own true actions will lead us in exactly what directions we need to go in.  We may find that we’re not supposed to be somewhere, and it may hurt those around us that we move to something else.  And then those around us are inspired by our inspired movement, and make life more real for themselves.  Constantly in flux.  I’m really sorry, everybody, for everything I’m doing, whenever I’m doing it.  I’m sorry that I’m not more of a career-minded, economy-serving mathematician that I was supposed to become.  And yet I’m also sorry that I’m not disciplined against the ‘social evils’, providing a consistently strong example of a figure that is overwhelmingly affecting all of society in the right ways.  I am following the leads that i am given, and will continue to do this.  I am guided throughout my existence.  There is no ‘I’ in anything that happens, when it comes down to it, because ‘I’ have no say over what ‘I’ am or even means.  I don’t exist as a god-like figure over my existence.  I am guided into every situation and experience, and I will continue to live my life through whatever I am guided into, for that is the way it is for me.

I’m very thankful for the support, love, guidance, hospitality, and continuous nourishment I’ve received through everything I’ve been going through for quite some time.  Things are now becoming quite different, I can feel, as my life takes new direction and I feel more solid and in the right places at the right times.

To Loving Action, to Compassionate response to everything, and to Peaceful belief in all that is and is due to be.