philosophy – St GEORGIA & Boo

Gods impersonating as children

Healing looking very suspicious these days, tracking along side escalating dollar amounts almost becoming a trillion dollar industry.. If healing is thriving in a time of sickness then we ought to be careful what we name sickness.

-Bayo Akolomafe

What does it mean to be well? Functioning? Normal? Contributing? Sane?

What does it mean to be these things from the view point of an ideology that is failing, has failed and who’s very fabric is falling away at the seams?

Should we even want to be well when wellness means falling back into systematic ways of being, partaking in stories that have not served kindly on the majority of humanity as a whole. Where do we find ourselves if we refuse to follow along, refuse to indoctrinate our children and force them to define themselves by notions that only serve the small minority, but instead waver on the outskirts, on the margins, belonging somewhere but no where from the grand narratives point of view.

How do we justify a life of happiness, enough food, warm shelter, access to clean water, the ability to take what we want to believe in and leave the rest behind for someone else’s contemplation because the harsh truth of it doesn’t feel good, because we know that what is on offer, is most certainly causing another to suffer? How do we justify our phones, our clothes, the very earth we hold ourselves to, when it is to the detriment of another be it human, non-human or life force. Can we still be alright with that, if that’s what it means to be well? Are we functioning well by fitting in, showing up, and wearing the construct of the story that has been passed down, placed upon us, even when we know that the fabric of the construct is dramatically failing and falling away, that it makes no sense anymore to the children that can’t sit still in a classroom, to the children that can’t ware shoes or don’t own any, can’t read or whom carry the companionship of voices in their heads. Are we well if we know these things and still we look the other way, we medicate, force and dominate, trying to make these things fit, that were most likely never meant to fit us this way in the first place.

Maybe we are not meant to be healing, fixing these things. Maybe the children that are being born into these untameable bodies that are bursting in their own wild forces are meant to be here. Maybe they are not really children with Autism at all but Gods of some other time. They are arriving in a cataclysmic motion, with an irresistible compulsion, causing trouble, denying the normative, upsetting the grand narrative. Could it be that we haven’t yet realised it is not for us to decide how they should be in the world, that it’s not really about us shaping things differently so that they can fit better, when fitting in is no longer what is necessary. Maybe they are here to take things apart, to cause mischief in the systems, to undo things, upset things, make trouble, disturb all manner of the seemingly normality of things. What if that story we are trying so very hard to manipulate their bodies into is finished now, that the reason they arrive in such grand force, what has been assumed could be an approaching Autism epidemic is because we are not listening, we are not really paying attention. Instead we are still trying to play out a narrative centred around an androcentric normality that no longer exists.

…maybe we should be ‘considering not what gets in the way of healing, but .. what healing gets in the way of. ‘ -Bayo Akomolafe

Maybe healing and fixing these things is, to not consider what we may not be able to see. Maybe we are yet to have the language for such places. What if we are being asked to consider and trust something so vastly different from anything we have ever known or seen before and what is really happening is that we are scared. We are afraid of arriving somewhere and not knowing the answers, or worse still that there will be no answer. We are afraid to enter into these unknowable places with our children because we feel that we are the ones guiding them, that we know what is best for them, it’s what the narrative has always been. But maybe we need to step down now, from our hierarchy and thinking that we know what is best, for it is overtly obvious now that this is not the case. Possibly it has never been. Maybe we need to place our faith in something else, be it the roots of the tree, the soil of the earth, the unassuming butterfly or the invisible ones who occupy the unseen spaces or could it be in these wild Gods that are impersonating themselves as Autistic children.

Life on the Möbius Strip- Palmer Parker

simple cooking and words

“As to what good qualities there may be in our souls, or Who dwells within them, or how precious they are — those are things which we seldom consider and so we trouble little about carefully preserving the soul’s beauty. All our interest is centred in the rough setting of the diamond, and in the outer wall of the castle — that is to say, in these bodies of ours.”
― Teresa of Ávila, Interior Castle

I’m moving to a slower rhythm, keeping things simple, deciding what can and can’t flow through my life right now. I’m sure, and unsure, being brave and honest with myself. I’m allowing, unresisting to any uncomfortable movements that are arising and just letting them be. I’m giving myself the grace to be with all it entails. This is the only way forward, this is the only way that the new story can be created from here. I must know all of my inner most ingredients, everything that makes me move the way i do. I’m spending much needed time, unraveling, dreaming, grieving, understanding and finding my way back, towards forgiveness and acceptance. I can see all the answers, i can see how wonderfully great it is going to be, i can see the picture i’m creating and the way it will look, but i know i can’t just arrive there, to this wonderful new place. i know that there’s no skipping ahead, not on this journey im on, not this time. Everything that comes up, needs to be moved through, nothing can be rolled up, or put to the side or saved for later.. for some other time. i have arrived in a place that i wont allow myself to travel back from, i am willing to do or not do, what ever it takes to arrive completely at home with myself, again.

lemon thyme tuna patties

ingredients: 4 potatoes, finely diced spanish onion, tuna, fresh sprigs of thyme, rind of 1 lemon, sea salt, cracked pepper, parsley, 5 slices stale bread, 1 free range egg, olive oil

method: in a food processor, combine bread, parsley pinch of salt and process into fine bread crumbs. Boil the potato’s whole with the skins on until cooked through and soft when pierced though the centre. Allow to cool slightly before peeling and disregarding the skins and mash with potato masher. Combine tuna with a little of the olive oil, onion, lemon rind, thyme, egg, with the potatoes. Stir mix through and season generously. Roll table spoonfuls into patties and coat in the bread crumbs , laying in a single layer on a tray and refrigerate for 1/2 an hour. Heat a non stick fry pan with olive oil and cook patties until a golden brown before gently turning to cook the other side. Serve with a light citrus salad, hot or cold.

alright then..

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.”

— Alan Watts

thank you

walking towards truth

“I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth – and truth rewarded me.”
— Simone de Beauvoir

I want to tell my children, don’t mind going against the grain. Don’t be afraid of wanting to make choices that don’t seem logical, or sensible, or what you believe is expected. I want to tell them, only ever make your decisions from your own truth. From the place that sits deep within, the place that tells you well ahead that something isn’t right, that something isn’t good for you. The same place can lead you towards living in a way that speaks only your highest truth. I want to tell them, it wont always fit in with everyone, it wont always be what other people want for you or from you, nevertheless follow yourself anyway. I want to tell them, don’t fall into a sleep walk in your lives, don’t just accept that going through the motions is enough, it rarely is. Be your own enough, strive for all it is you are wanting and here is the secret, you must believe it. You must hold the deepest faith that all you are wanting will come about if you stay true to yourself. I want to tell them, now that I am older, I know better. I want to save them from some of the heart aches even though I know, really this isn’t possible and more than likely it’s necessary anyway. I want to tell them all of this, in a moment when they can really understand. I want to tell them that it matters, but really I understand that it doesn’t in the end.