on the need to grieve the loss of a shiny, optimistic future to climate change. to take care of ourselves and each other. to accept loss. and to build compassionate, resilient communities, with the ingenuity to face dark times ahead.

i wrote this quickly as a comment to a post re climate change. i’ve been thinking about this for a few months, and have had a few chats with people about it, but i’m still working things through. it seems almost blasphemous amongst activist circles, and probably mainstream, to talk about grief re climate change. like that is just accepting the status quo rather than acting to avert it.

 

but i don’t think we have a choice. i think we need to let ourselves grieve, support each other in doing that, and recognise that we do have a major loss – the loss of the future we thought we had.

 

that is important to do because we are all human, all precious and special and deserving of care.

 

additionally, we need to be functional for the months and years and decades ahead. not still attached to our non-existant shiney future, like someone never moving on from a relationship breakup or bereavement. we need to accept that loss, and carry it with us as we take care of ourselves, our communities, all humanity, all life on this planet. we are at the beginning of a roller coaster ride and it is frightening and will require all of our ingenuity, resources, compassion, integrity and courage for us to make the best of a terrifying world. i know we’re all grasping for silver linings – here am i stopping my kneejerk grasp for an uplifting sentence but i need to fight that urge. grieving is not easy – that person is never coming back. it hurts like a punch to the gut, over and over, but then somehow you get through that. somehow the other side of grief is a life you can start reconstructing – always changed by that profound loss, but not always defined and constrained by it. and so must we, humanity, be.

 

***

 

i think its not only ok, but necessary (imho) to grieve the loss of the future we were brought up to believe we had. and just like any loss – a relationship breakup, a loved one dying, a health diagnosis – going through sorrow and other elements of grieving sucks and hurts.

 

i look at people who have best adjusted to those losses, and i notice acceptance. they grieved, and they held that loss, and are able to keep living. those who have lost but not accepted, those still clinging to their dead loved one, or ex relationship, they seem in the worst way.

 

i do think we have to, probably all of us alive today, go through grief for the loss of a healthy planet, a bright future. i don’t think that’s wallowing. i think its painful and hard and feels terrifying.

 

yes we can and should do all we can to mitigate climate change, to organise our communities to be resilient and compassionate, to do what we can in the here and now for those facing horrific material and other insults; migrants facing militarised racist borders, disabled people and others facing universal credit and benefit cuts, those in palestine mown down for existing, just for some examples.

 

i don’t think that grieving is an option any more. i think refusing to allow ourselves to is negatively affecting our mental health and our ability to make progressive change. i think we need to be there for each other, to hold each other whilst we cry, to listen to each other’s pain and fear in a massage circle of emotional support. this is how we will build any kind of liveable world. denial is blunting us.

Grieving/disassociation

There were 2 funerals this week that I’d have liked to have attended. Well, ideally I’d have liked that neither of them happened…

One was an old family friend. The other an old friend. But both were in Southern England and I couldn’t travel down so close to stuff I had already committed to without becoming even more rundown.

Wish I had though. I think being with others that knew those who died would have been good. And I wish I’d been able to do right by the friends who died.

The funeral today was of Simon Chapman, who I’ve known since 2001. It hasn’t sunk in at all that he’s dead. He was young (?42) and someone I was always happy to see, though that only happened when we were at same events (london anarchist bookfair and after parties mostly). He was always good for a hug, and usually had a smart, funny commentary on whatever was going on. He had a warm, gentle kindness – happy when good things happened to others, whilst simultaneously sarcastic with a dry wit.

I can feel the grief starting to well up. The sadness of someone I liked and who I’d shared some intense experiences with no longer being alive. And that connecting to other, equally unprocessed grief for those other friends who have died. And I can’t deal with that. Or at least I don’t. I push it down, numb myself, disassociate rather than let those scary sad feelings have their power and fill me. I know its counter productive. I know I need to let them out. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people that didn’t have a choice but to feel and express emotions.

I’ve only been to a couple of funerals – maybe 3? I didn’t feel anything at any of them – being around other people makes me numb up even more. So maybe its good I didn’t go to Simon’s funeral.

I’d hate for anyone to think I didn’t care about the deceased, and yet I won’t be showing any emotion, because I won’t be feeling any. Just this weird fog and unrealness. The best I can describe it is its like being sleep deprived when everything is dreamlike and doesn’t feel real. That’s how it is for me almost all the time.

I’m trying to get my feelings back, but part of that will mean facing the scary, hard, bad, sad ones which I’ve buried for so long. Allowing myself to actually feel grief rather than push it down away. And there is so much grief hiding down there. As part of operation feel again (during a peer / co-counselling session where I focus on trying to feel whatever I need to at the time) I had a big cry couple months ago about the 5000 people who died last year crossing the mediterranean trying to find refuge in Europe. This world is so fucked up no wonder my brain decides its safer not to feel anything at all (including good things) than let myself feel this pain.

Anyway, Simon is dead and that fucking sucks because he was nice and I liked him. And even just saying those words hurts and I probably should full-on grieve and accept the pain and then get to the healing stage. As it is I’m still mostly at the pissed off with him stage tbh.

Solo Travelling, Solo Poly – personal diary/reflections stuff

This doesn’t feel developed enough for such a grand title. If anyone finds their way here via looking for advice/insights on solo poly or RA (relationship anarchy) what you will get here is merely some reflections from somebody who’s been practicing it a while. Nothing more, but I guess also nothing less.

Labels can be useful – they are a part of language and allow us to communicate ideas in a package so we don’t have to start from a basic explanation from building block concepts in every sentence. They allow us to find others who share interests/ways of doing things which can be useful, build community, share tips and mistakes etc. It is for these reasons that I use the labels solo poly and relationship anarchy as close-enough descriptors to how I relate to those I am close to. In this when I talk about solo poly and RA I am very much talking about the ways and why of how I do them. There are others who do them in different ways, for instance whilst I choose not to live with a sweetie, others may do, I don’t know.

Solo poly describes a way of being non-monogamous which does not seek out partner/s with whom you live with (nesting partner/s) and probably also share finances, parenting etc etc with. There are many forms of polyamory (having more than one romantic/sexual loves) which are not solo. For instance I have many many friends who are poly and have nesting partner/s and co-parent. Their polyamory might be relatively close to portrayals of a conventional marriage, but with more than two people involved. Sometimes they have primary/secondary setups where there is a primary (usually couple) relationship who might have a mortgage, perhaps kids and maybe even be legally married, and then other secondary lovers who are more peripheral, though often very long-term and also committed. I know of other poly setups where children are involved but not always are all the parents living in a single household. There are nesting triads and quads, V’s and W’s. Poly families with multiple interweaving parents, all living together. These are some ways of being polyamorous that are different to how I do them.

I love to travel on my own. I love being able to stick to a plan for exactly until I see something shiney off the planned out route, and then not having to discuss whether to investigate this with anyone else. I’m tardy, unreliable, distractable, easily excitable, need alone time, flakey and … oooo shiney! I’m a terrible travelling companion for anyone else, but a perfect one for me. Sometimes I want to go faster or slower than scheduled. Sometimes I’ll push myself hard and fast to get to somewhere else, and for the sheer joy of the challenge and feeling the ground fly beneath me. Other times a place will catch me and I’ll want to just tarry a while. And this can all change. As I said, I’m a nightmare of a travelling companion! And I love being on my own, including the opportunities for connections that that brings. Sometimes I do get lonely, and other times I wish I had someone I was sharing experiences with, who could also see the similarities/contrasts between x and y because we’d both been there. But these are the cons I have accepted for the pros.

And so with travelling my life journey alone. Being with someone 24/7 suffocates me. Even the bestest, closest people I am blessed with I could not live with. Nor would I wish myself onto them! Because I’m … tardy, unreliable, distractable, easily excitable, need alone time, flakey and … oooo shiney! The idea of someone hooking their wagon up to mine and connecting our fates so intimately is horrifying! I can take risks and flake out on stuff, or choose to throw myself entirely into a new thing, because its only me that has to deal with the consequences, and I know I can. I know I can survive on the streets, or with no money, or eating from bins, or get myself from A to B on sore sore feet carrying my belongings because I have done all these things multiple times. And I know I can laugh all these off afterwards. But risk anyone else having to deal with these? No way! I’d be much much more cautious on what path I took if anyone else might have to deal with it suddenly turning rocky. And then I’d have missed out on all the amazing things I’ve experienced, where I’ve ended up now. I wouldn’t have felt so able to twice quit well paid, secure employment because I wanted more freedom and adventure. And both times I’m really glad I did, though both times I ended up struggling as well as adventuring. Had I been sharing finances with someone? No, I don’t think I’d have been able to do that. And yet both, in hindsight, were totally the correct things for me to have done. And my life is as rich and lucky as it is now because I made those choices.

Yes sometimes I get lonely. Sometimes I wish I had someone with whom I had shared the same paths over the years. Sometimes I worry that if I get sick or otherwise need a support network that not having a conventional partner/kids will make a crisis even worse. Again, analogous to how a fall in the mountains would be worse if there is nobody around.

But mostly it just suits me really well. I have lived with partners on several different occasions. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like that the default was to be with someone. That time together was because we didn’t make other arrangements. That we had to talk about washing up and bills. The constant negotiation eg when and what to have for dinner rather than just leaving that to whenever/whatever I like and not having to plan it out in advance and get shopping in. I can be in Glasgow when I like, and go away when it suits, or choose to not go away when I’d planned to. Default time is by myself, and I really love and need alone time. I don’t have to feel I’m holding anyone back financially because I’d rather have less money and more time when I’m not working. Equally if I want to save for something, I don’t have to hope they want the same thing. I can live how I choose – minimal outgoings and have a flatmate and spontaneously decide I’m going to splash out or not on food on a whim. Nobody else is affected by my decisions because I am not tightly coupled to anyone else.

I have time-constrained periods when I am effectively living with a sweetie. I am often in LDRs (long distance relationships) and so normally time with them means we are sharing a place or trip for days, weeks, or sometimes even months. It can be fun, like a holiday home is fun. Exploring new experiences. Eating different food. And its one of the few times I get as many snuggles as I actually want! But after a while of 24/7 with another person, I do get cabin fever. Took me a while to pattern match the way I was feeling (tetchy, snappy, fatigued, grouchy) with that I’d been constantly around people. But now I know that I need to take myself off alone regularly as well as recognise early symptoms and communicate my alone time needs with whoever I’m with. And as much as I get withdrawals after being with a sweetie for a while and then having to go back to sleeping on my own and missing their company, I also, simultaneously, feel a rush of relief and pleasure to be alone again.

That’ll do for now. Another thing, I’m not sure what I just rambled and whether I ever got to where I intended to, but that’s ok, because any incompleteness or errors purely have a consequence on me. I’m not talking for anyone else. I’m not responsible for anyone else. And nobody is talking for me. :)

restarting a diary on this blog

Today I bumped into an old friend in that awesome way of Glasgow – meeting pals in saramago, purveyor of Glasgow’s finest chocolate cake, evolved into an extended hangout including free gin and tonic, lots of cake, soup and seeing several different friends over the afternoon/evening. And then unplanned stop off at project cafe on way home for some surprisingly good open mic music and poetry. Anyway one of the old friends has left facebook for all the good reasons we all should and nudged me about this blog and that reminded me that I keep meaning to use it more.

Apparently its not super annoying that mostly what I write here is livejournal-esque navel gazing, and anyway, its not like me writing here is forcing anyone to read it or otherwise attention/time stealing, so I’ll try not to feel guilty that it feels a bit narcissistic to be writing so much from my first person.

I think I might actually write about some aspects of my life that maybe are of more general interest but aren’t overtly political – I tend to write political stuff anyway but often on more overtly political mediums. So I’ll try and write more about :

• how i do “relationships” – terms might include solo polyamory, relationship anarchy, off escalator, but i often prefer plain old “ethical non-monogamy”.
• travel-logging. partly this is because as a female bodied person who travels alone and in unconventional modes, i find it heartening, inspiring and most importantly emboldening to read of similar others so i want to add to that. but mostly its because i have really cool adventures and experiences but a terrible memory so i want to be able to read back and go, “oh yeah, that was amazing!”
• finding/creating ways to be and do judaism that accord with my world views (i tend to write this already, and i want to keep this up)
• being a nurse and ideas about healthcare
• living in glasgow, and figuring out what i want from home – both in terms of my personal nest and the city within which that is currently set.
• whatever i’ve been up to in a given week – i’ll try and write at least once a week (self discipline and all that) but if i don’t have anything more general to blether about, i’ll just start from what i’ve been up to.

again – whether anyone reads this or not is not important – writing helps me figure stuff out and gives me something to refer back to when my memory fails me again. though i’d be lying if i said my ego doesn’t like it when folks tell me they enjoy reading this shit.

i guess this post is a kind of warning – if you read this blog what you are getting is a stream of consciousness that aims to be unapologetically first person – you ain’t gonna get any passive voice pseudo objectivity/universality here, unless i want to try out some ideas that seem to suit that format.

here goes!

love/hate rships with airports. goodbye dear lover until next time.

I live a “solo poly” existence. I choose not to have a “primary partner”. I choose not to live with a partner, or orbit my life around their’s. I’ve tried it and it doesn’t suit me at all. I love like I live – independent and freewheeling and with a few very deep very dear connections. Those deepest connections are primarily not people I happen to have a sexual/romantic connection with at the moment, though I tend to remain close to those I have had that kind of interaction with, because affection and care and love and connection are more permanent than whether or not sexy things feel right between folks at any particular time.

Anyway, today one of my closest folks and lovers, left after a wonderful 3 week visit. As the cab took me away from the airport, I acutely felt the separation. I felt hate for the plane that was shortly to take him even further from me. After such an concentrated togetherness, sharing intensely spacetime, deep companionship and nsfw activities, suddenly my partner in crime is no longer next to me.

We’ve talked about whether we should reorganise our lives to be geographically closer, but that wouldn’t work for us.

We meet and part at airports. I like that we both travel alone enough, and watch other folks being met, that being met ourselves feels like such a treat. Going to the airport is part of the ritual of our relationship. Hugs and passionate kisses at arrivals, later mirrored at the departure security check. In 4 different countries so far, on 3 continents. Sweet coming together. Never will we take time together for granted. The preciousness of waking up together for those weeks.

I’ve been planning for postdeparture and have nice things lined up for a few days. Tonight I’m going to have fun with a friend, tomorrow is a social gathering, Monday star trek in 3D. Self care ftw. I’m ok with the way our relationship is. I miss him because we have such a good connection and I’d rather have that and miss it than not. We miss each other because we are the people that we are, each with full lives and interests and desires and therefore don’t want to just give up all of that to live together, even if either of us were fixed enough in one place for the other to move there.

But damned if I didn’t hate that plane that was physically moving us away from each other.

Where’s Fleabite been this month? :D Walked kingshouse to FW, cycling on Arran and day trip to millport

When I retired from politics, one thing I wanted was to free up energy, time, resources for travel. Its been something I’ve been mulling over for a few years actually. And more specifically, after a few years of lots of “big” trips – either the month long lejog cycle or the multiple international journeys (India twice (for 4 and 1 months), USA for 6 weeks, Germany and Norway) and lots of London and “down south” visits to friends, family, loved ones and for my 5 month DTN course, I’d been feeling a lack of Scotland exploration. After all, one of my reasons for moving to Glasgow was falling in love with the Scottish countryside. For that, I gave up a rich and full London life.

But because of my tendency to say yes to pretty much everything that sounds shiney and fun, I end up with a full calendar that lacks opportunity to see a sunny weather forecast and head out the city. Which is pretty much the bestest way to do it if you’re blessed with living in Scotland. Also the shiney/fun events I would sign up for also squeeze out self-organised trips because the former have fixed dates and need prebooked. Suddenly my summer dancecard is chockablock and I’m needing to work the rest to pay for it all. No more thought I. I’m gonna *not go to events*. I’m gonna do more outdoorsing (hiking, cycling, camping) and in a sustainable way that means the times inbetween are not just workworkwork. As I get paid extra for working on Sundays, my best strategy for getting out the city without it requiring too much work are midweek trips. So how’s that been going for me?

The first couple of weeks of May involved a 9 day trip to southern England for a very important family commitment. Since then I’ve worked every Sunday so financially I’m stable. I’ve also managed to work an extra day or two most weeks which goes towards paying off £1000 debt I accrued from lejog + USA trips.

Monday 16th – Thursday 19th May. Walking Kingshouse – Fort William.

Cost under £50 including travel and food. 3 nights wild camping. Went with 3 friends. Enjoyed sharing the mountains with them. Though as we sat in FW waiting for our bus I was the only one not feeling like I wanted to go home. Hadn’t been out long enough to be looking forward to home comforts, possibly because I was most experienced walker/camper of the group and so maybe better prepared, it felt less out of my comfort zone and I had better gear.

Monday 23rd – Wednesday 25th May. Cycling on Arran

As I finished the previous week’s trip still wanting to be out the city, and the weather forecast was still so gorgeous, I decided on the Sunday whilst at work that I would go to Arran the next day. Put camping stuff into my panniers on Monday morning and got train/ferry to Arran. The total return fare was £21 (train + ferry). I stayed on Lochranza campsite as didn’t have time to get ready for wild camping. That was £9 each night and included hot showers and access to a microwave, which I used for boiling water as well as a microwave meal I took over! Felt incredibly happy from the moment I set off. So free and content to be on the road again. That my life was shaped to enable me to see a good weather forecast one day, and be off out the city camping the next.

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Arran is super accessible from Glasgow. If you don’t have a bike you can still get a bus from Brodick (where the ferry lands) to the rest of the island. There’s wild camping spots all over if you don’t want to pay for a campsite. And its so beautiful all over you can’t go wrong. Just check if you need to take provisions with you before you leave Brodick – there’s no shops in Lochranza for example.

On the Tuesday I left my tent and gear and cycled round the island. Its 55 miles, with hills but also stunning views, seals(!!!!), lots of places to stop for tea and ice-cream, super friendly people and hardly any traffic on the roads.

Wednesday before cycling for the 6pm ferry/train back to Glasgow, I walked up the glen behind Lochranza and saw golden eagles! They’re easy to spot if you know what to look for – people with serious expressions and even more serious binoculars looking at dots in the sky! They were enthusiastic to lend me their noc’s and show me how to identify them – incredible experience.

Day trips to Millport and cycling

Took a visitor from Oxford to Millport on a day trip – he was very excited to find we could pop over to an island for a day! Walking and beach and ice creams and cuteness of Millport.

Been going on cycle trips too – up into the Campsie’s, or to the seaside. The bike just opens up so many options. I like that when I work an early shift (6 hours from about 7am til 1 or 2pm) and the weather is inviting I can just head out. There’s lots of cycle paths. For example last week I went to Ardrossan (40 miles) and picked up a take away for the train home.

And tomorrow I’m heading to Orkney for 10 days :D Bit more expensive for travel – the combined train and ferry costs are going to be £90. But once there I’ll mostly be camping and as I’ll have my bike, my entertainment and transport are sorted :)

I feel very lucky to have a life that allows me to do so much of what I love. Exploring Scotland and just being outside, in nature, on the road whether that’s walking, cycling, public transport or ferry. They give me such happiness.

I want to be able to travel until I feel road weary. And then “nest” until my feet get itchy again. I love how great Glasgow feels to come home to. I can really appreciate having a kitchen and bathroom and friends and different clothes and getting back to my other hobbies and interests. I even enjoy work! But when I’m trapped here for too long I’m just miserable and all those things feel like meaningless trappings of a superficial existence.

The other side of the coin

Feeling sooo rough. And its a gorgeous day outside, but can’t face it. Managed outside a small amount yesterday, but was tough.

What happened? I way overdid it at the weekend. Best laid plans and all that – I had planned on taking it easy on Friday night as was away for a 4 day festival, where the 3rd night, Saturday, is always the biggy… however spontaneously took up a friend’s offer lateish on Friday evening, and that, on top of Thursday night’s session pretty much wrecked me as I still went for the party on Saturday night, crashed early (well, from about 3am) but was determined to keep dancing (the music was amazing!) so went for the caffeine and ended up a jittery and unable to sleep mess. Which wrecked my Sunday and still feeling terrible.

So, why did it happen? Because I tend to say yes, spontaneously, to almost anything! I’m up for random adventures, new things, fun, new experiences etc. And that spontaneity does have its negative effects, as those around me Sunday can attest, and I was in full-on regret mode (because I also lost out on dancing Sunday, and had a less good weekend than I wanted/needed) when I remembered how I also lost a lot of money, and that this was similar.

So, in the late 1990s I was working for a company that floated on the nasdaq and I ended up with share options in it, which I exercised, but then was lax about doing anything to reclaim the tax which I’d been erroneously charged by USA IRS. Why? Because at that point I had enough money to live on, and I’m not very financially focused. I managed to eek out this money plus the savings I’d made when working for couple years of budget living / travel, only running out end of 2003.

I just don’t really value the material very much. I do get uncomfortable when in debt, so avoid that as I find it stressful, but otherwise I just don’t make decisions around it. And the time in my life when I was earning the most (4 years of working as a programmer) reinforced how unrelated money (as long as I have my basic needs covered) is to how happy and meaningful my life is. I’ve been super broke. I’ve been homeless multiple times. I’ve had to sleep in squats, in homeless accommodation, or sofa surfed (the worst of the lot imo) and eaten out of rubbish bins. It wasn’t always fun, to put it mildly. It could be very cold. I’ve been hungry and desperate. But I’m not there now. I have sorted my life out so that I do have a roof and electricity and money for food. I haven’t been that poor since 2004 and I’m very happy about that.

But beyond that, I really don’t take money highly into account when deciding whether or not to do a thing. I know I can survive on very little – I’d prefer not to, but its a much smaller preference than, for example, going somewhere I’ve not been before, or helping someone out, or having a meaningful life, or having fun.

That was all context for what happened a few years ago when I was saving up to travel and I remembered that the USA IRS owed me a couple thousand dollars. They’d (incorrectly) taxed me on the nasdaq shares, despite me not being USA tax payer. So, I went along to the IRS department at the USA embassy in London to reclaim it. The woman there was super nice and helpful, but when we checked the dates (from emails when I’d cashed in the shares) she told me (she was gutted!) that it was too late and past their time limit for refunding me the tax. She tried super hard to figure a way round it, but there was nothing – I’d basically handed a bunch of money to the USA government to spend on bombs and had left it too late to get it back.

I managed to hold myself together to walk a block from Grosvener Square and then collapsed into a doorway and wept, raging at myself. How could I have been so stupid and incompetent? I kicked myself over and over. Why had I done this? And the answer came – because I don’t care enough about money and so had allowed this particular TODO to be squeezed out by all the rest I’d been doing over the years. And actually I’d never prioritised money when making life decisions and that has led to an incredibly awesome, full, meaningful life. Sure, at times like this it sucked really fucking hard, but that was the unavoidable other side of the exact same coin which had made my life so rich and wholesome.

I was still upset, but somehow felt better and more that it wasn’t completely inexplicable and stupid that I’d lost all this money. I know my biases a bit better so am better able to account for them in future, and be aware that I might need to put extra checks into place if I’m in a similar situation when I need to do x in order to sort something financial out.

And so with this. Yes I had less fun over the weekend than I wanted, and yes I feel horrible now because I spontaneously said yes to a friend on Friday night, but oh wow has my life been full of adventures and experiences exactly because that is my tendency!

Now I’m gonna go force myself to go out on my bike and enjoy the sun. Because last year I thought that riding from Land’s End to John o’Groats sounded like a fun adventure, and so I did it even though it made no sense financially, nor was I adequately prepared for it, and now I am a cycleholic with another great journey in my life.

Next time though, I need to be careful that I don’t overdo it when I’m partying and be aware that I will tend to say “yes” and that I need some kind of check to make sure that really is what I want to do :)

End of Saturday night, and just about still smiling!

Facing forty – defining my age rather than letting it define me.

Wow CCCamp was such fun, inspiring and helped me on several issues.

First off a really moving and powerful talk involving folks from http://policespiesoutoflives.org.uk/ helped me look at my own relationship with activism and burnout. As Lili (one of the woman abused by the cops by unknowingly being subjected to a two year relationship with a spy) said at the end, we mustn’t let the paranoia and pain and fear from state repression chase us away from our struggle for a better world, but look at what roles we can do it we can’t face the coalface (I can’t recall her exact words but watch the whole talk for yourselves) such as cooking or other support roles. This reminded me of one of Rachel Corries’s emails, reflecting on how massive the horrors she was facing were, and that whilst she couldn’t see clear ways she could stop the assaults on Rafah, she could wash dishes*. So I realised I can look at what I can still do, even as my burnout is making it difficult for me to be involved in day to day organising. And this reinforced that yes I will continue to develop/improve/solidify both my first aid (and [tropical] nursing) skills and technical skills, particularly digital security, sysadmin, internet services etc. In this way I can support and help look after those people, organisations and movements who are more directly involved in creating positive change. I tend to take a long time making decisions and orienting my life focii so this is part of longer process that has been going on a while, but was yet more encouragement that this is what I should be doing.

Camp also reconnected me with a couple of friends from my past life (as a programmer), which I was very happy with. And reminded me of those past times and those aspects of myself that were more expressed at that time, and which I am turning back towards now. :)

Another biggish thing I’ve been dealing with is my imminent 40th birthday and some minor crisis around that. Some of that is due to the different ways people treat me when they find out my age. Other problems are wanting to do so much, and suddenly facing my mortality – do I have enough years of health for all the adventures and experiences and projects and contributions I want to make with my single chance at existence? What does it mean to be leaving my 30s? None of this is helped by people saying “oh you don’t look 40” as if that is something I should be happy about, because to be 40 is so shameful and terrible?

Its easy to internalise all that rubbish society and those around me seem to be saying about ageing. All the minor ways people let it be known that leaving our twenties, let alone our thirties, and especially for women, is basically leaving life. We fade from independent existence, there only to support those who are still ripe and at their prime. Fun, adventure, experimentation, creation, sex… those are young people affairs. And the dread that those much younger than me express about the horrors of entering their mid twenties makes me shamefully cringe to be approaching forty.

So what exactly was it that I had internalised about ageing, particularly within a female body? At forty surely my body would be decaying as it began an inevitable tilt towards decline and death. I ignored images of wrinkly marathon runners and pictured only my elderly patients, as if that was any less biased a sample! I allowed myself to listen to those around me who talked of their aches and pains and unreliable bodies as due solely to ageing. Additionally I would become less desirable. “Will you still love me when I am no longer young and beautiful?” sings Lana Del Rey because youth and beauty are indivisible. Less so in LGBT/queer subcultures, but still present is the understanding that whilst older men can be attractive, women wizen. We have a brief blooming, where we actually burn too bright, and the attention and fetishisation of our teen and twenty-something bodies is scary, frustrating and threatening to experience. It could feel like being forced to visibly carry around high value currency as you try to go about your every day life, but are now constantly vigilant and afraid of attempted theft. Intellectually stimulating conversations with interesting people frequently deteriorated to clumsy movements knickers-ward. But the messages I’d received was that this was now over and I was to be flung from the frying pan to the floor. So part of my fear was definitely that, though those I find attractive have always spanned a wide age range, somehow nobody would ever think me hot again. (Spoiler: To those that are yet to come down this path I can assure you that those fears are unfounded ;D )

An end to adventure also seemed on the cards. I felt a similar crisis when I approached 30, and internalised those messages from society that I should settle down, get a mortgage and judge my worth at achieving the perfect nuclear family and career path. Happily a super awesome friend reassured me that “your thirties are like your twenties, only better because you’re more sorted” – second spoiler – pretty much! But turning forty … this seems a much bigger deal. That is definitely middle aged territory, and how many stereotypes does that evoke? Even without a television or much other connection to mass media, I was still bombarded with messages about how people like me (ie the middle aged) behaved and were interested in and wore and occupied themselves with. None of these reflected my existence. And yet somehow it seemed inevitable that this was my future. That was what it would mean to be forty.

At some point when I was wrestling with apparent contradictions between my Judaism and my anti Zionism, half believing what I was being constantly told (by non Jews and Palestinian sympathisers almost as much as from within Jewish communities) that a Jewish identity incontrovertibly included certain rightwing political beliefs, I stubbornly turned around, put my chin in the air, and declared to myself and anyone who would listen that actually as I am Jewish, what I am also therefore is a part of what it means to be Jewish and therefore the set of beliefs that those who are Jewish have includes anti Zionism. I was inspired by that moment when Ged turns to his shadow in Ursula Le Guin’s Wizard of Earthsea and neutralises his nemesis by naming it Ged also and changing shadow into man, rather than fleeing from it and allowing it to define him.

And so now I turn to my forties, and declare “This is who I am”. My life, my being, is not defined by turning forty. Rather the definition of what it means to be forty, soon must expand to include me. My choices, my lifestyle, my modes of dress and presentation, my priorities and interests emanate from all that I am. They are influenced by my age in one crucial way – I have learned over the years that the only constant companion that I should listen to is within me, and messages from outside are merely suggestions to be considered. For life is short, and if I am in the middle of it now, there is not so much left to waste being anything other than me, to the max.

I turn forty in a few weeks. Earlier this year I decided to mark this by cycling from Land’s End to John O Groats (LEJOG), partly as an excuse to finally do it, partly as a fuck you to those that would tell me that I am now past it, but mostly as a frightened response to the crisis I was still wrestling with. Regardless that the latter was a bad reason to make any decision, I’m excited to be going. Now that I’m over the hump of my mid-life crisis, and feel freer than ever to be me, more deeply and expressively and fully than I can ever recall, I am looking forward to this adventure. No longer is LEJOG a route to escape the reality of turning forty, but a path to celebrate it head on with something to challenge and excite me. And when it is done, I have so many plans for the coming year – I want to learn electronics and conductive yarn crocheting, fully re-enter the communities in Glasgow and wider afield, I want to go away with MSF from September 2016, explore Scotland’s highlands and islands and improve my skills at doing that, develop sysadmin skills to better support political organising and activism, grow street/action medic collectives and networks and trainings, dance, adorn myself with blue hair and glitter and finally get that octopus tattoo I’ve been wanting for years and wear whatever crazy clothing I feel like without reference to what anybody else thinks. Wooot to being forty!

Personal update / diary : Balancing travelling with staying still

I look at a map, I spin my globe, I hear about other’s travels and oh my, those feet get itchy. I love traveling a kinda ridiculous amount. Feel so free and content and happy and where I’m meant to be when I’m on the move. And so I have made travel a part of my life. I don’t want to have a big once-in-a-lifetime round the world and then settle down. And I want to be able to contribute meaningfully to those places I have privilege of going. So, 11 years ago I began my nurse training, and last year I did a Diploma in Tropical Nursing (DTN), and now I have the qualifications, and some of the experience and skills (and anyway that’s an ongoing project) and so the world is my oyster more than ever before.

Here is my 2015, past and plans:

• Jan – last month in London, completing DTN
• Feb – month in South India travelling and visiting friends there.
• March – arrived back to Glasgow mid March (after London – India – London). Went to bangface festival
• April – Passover, including hosting a seder. 3 day hackathan. Three friends staying for 5-7 days each (not at same time)
• May – mostly quieter, apart from long weekend camping trip.
• June to mid July – longterm lover from India/USA came to visit for 6 weeks. During this time also went to Edinburgh for a weekend AFed meeting, camping with another old friend for a few days on side of Ben Lomond, went to Barncamp in South Wales for a few days with couple days either side visiting folks in the area.
• End of July – Manchester/peak district for AFed meeting and summer camp.
• August – 11 day trip including epic train journey Glasgow to Berlin for £67. Then back via Oslo. End of August friend’s wedding near Manchester
• September – Cycling Land’s End to John O’ Groats for whole month (yeah I know people can do it quicker, but I think this pace will be nicer and more interesting and *enjoyable*!)
• October – London Anarchist Bookfair. Wilderness first aid training for 3 days (also in South England)
• November – had been planning on going away again for 4-6 months

And that’s just the big stuff. In between have been plentiful day trips and discussion groups and online courses. I’ve learned python and been part of a small group migrating an organisation to a new server. I’ve socialised, maintained multiple relationships (sexual/romantic as well as platonic and familial – sorry to those I’ve not spent as much time with as I’d like) and worked as a nurse to fund it all.

And I’m happy with my life! I feel blessed that it is so full and interesting and full of amazing people and love and glitter and spices and music and mountains and adventure and learning and meaningful action and fun.

But every decision to do something is a decision not to do something else. And what I want right now is some more time doing things that my very footloose lifestyle makes more difficult, especially learning and doing and nurturing relationships (especially the platonic ones which can easily get elbowed out in polylife). So I decided not to go away in November. I’m still going to go away for 4-6 weeks this winter – I really don’t like the grey – but probably not til January.

And this gives me the space for other projects. I’m excited about building a robot. And doing more wilderness first aid courses. I’m looking forward to spending more time with people I adore. And sorting my flat out so that its a better nest to enable me to do other things. I want to do some winter camping too.

I also need some way of topping up finances whilst I’m away. It might be that I can get my first aid and nursing qualifications and skills to a point where I can get paid. At the moment, because I feel uncomfortable in debt, that makes travelling less pleasurable – needing to constantly look at my budget and feel pressure to have best ever time as my bank balance only ever goes down whilst I’m away.

When I started looking to travel every year, it was breaking free from the stay in one place anchors that required energy in. Inertia and commitments and fears and finances. But I needed to – I felt trapped and my life seemed lacking and the rest of the world was so unexplored and inviting and yet so far away. And now I need to find that other balance. I know that for me I also need to spend time in one place, doing the things that are best done with a more rooted home. Whilst I can do some on the road, I am not great at that yet. It might be that my travelling style is not optimal for me yet – maybe I’m moving around too frequently, still in the once-in-a-lifetime mentality of needing to cram it all in, and so not doing those other things that I want in my life which are doable on the road. For example I can do online courses whilst I travel, but these would be easier if I’m somewhere for at least a week. And actually I really like that more in-depth feeling for a place you get from some familiarity.

But right now I’m happy with my decision to be a bit more in Glasgow for the next 10 months. I am going to apply to MSF to go away in September 2016. And as I said, I’ll probably have a 6 week trip Jan-Feb – maybe to South East Asia, maybe to East Africa. But rebalancing for now means more time on the aspects of my life that scratching my itchy feet meant I have been neglecting for past couple of years, and want back :)

Day 1 without facebook

Slightly weird. Kept going to check it anyway and then seeing the login page as I’m normally always logged in, and then remembering. Have turned off all email notifications but still going to check the label I’ve long had all facebook messages filtered into. Wondering if folks have responded to my posts or comments I made on the final day. What have I missed? Hope that the profile pic made it clear enough that I’m not checking it anymore. Might make a new one and link it to something on this blog that explains my reasoning more than that random 99 days site.

Checked twitter and various other social networks more. And played more games on my phone. But felt less sucked in.

Feeling a bit twitchy, like when anything you do habitually/on the addictive spectrum is suddenly removed cold turkey from your life. But am ok with that. Shows how important it was to break off for me! I hate feeling confined and controlled by something outside me so addictions are super unpleasant – hence I quit smoking relatively easily and gave up alcohol for a year when I realised it had become habitual that if I was in an environment where there was alcohol I would drink it.

Haven’t decided at what point I’ll go back to using facebook, if at all. It was a spontaneous decision after contemplating I should do it for months/years. I’ve got a longer post I’m writing in the background about why I decided to but the sneak preview is that a) I was using it to avoid life/procrastinate too much b) I resent that by being an active node I was adding value to a social network run by an evil corporation that have sketchy as fuck privacy policies especially with regard to trying to force people to use their real names c) By using it I was adding weight to the justification for all the information, discussion and event invites that are only really shared on a social media that so many people are not on, which then leads to more people feeling they need to stay on facebook because everyone else is d) we are the ones creating content and reasons for people to be on facebook and shareholders and venture capitalists are the ones gaining money.

i think i’ll probably gain a couple hours a day. kinda wish i’d started an automatic logging of how much time i was spending on it over a week. maybe those of you still on there should do that to help you make your own minds up.

anyway, feel free to leave a comment below or email me fleabite531@gmail.com and let me know your details if you use whats app, telegram, textsecure or google hangouts and want to stay in touch that way :) even sms is fine.

hope you’re all well and birthdays are being greeted and dinner photos and selfies are getting loves.

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