Our Place in Time
A message from 45 degrees North, approximately now in the grand scheme of things
I live at approximately 45 degrees N latitude and non-specific degrees Midwestern longitude. I’m in my home. Specifically, in my recliner, wastefully running a space heater so I can keep the front door open and listen to the robins. It’s 3:07pm and my feet are a little chilly. I’m wearing this amazing A-line maxi linen dress that feels like it floats around me. I have a lump of anxiety in my stomach that really wants my attention. But it’s hard for me to just pay attention to that feeling and not attach judgements, stories, more worries and ailments to it. My brain is focused today, a great relief because I desire to work on this writing project but my executive function is unpredictable. When I stray away from attending the my place in time and space (it’s both or neither, as far as we all know), I find infinite stories to fill the gap.
But I’m going to share my my favorite story of how I got to here and now, and it is fascinating and brings me an elevated perspective of the present moment.
Our past: Deep Time
The universe began, as far as we know, about 13.5 billion years ago. 100% of all time before this moment.
The solar system came together about 4.6 billion years ago, about 33% of all time before now.
Abiogenesis occurred about 3.5 billion years ago
About 500 million years ago, the first mammals split off from their last common ancestor.
Around 90 million years ago, less than 1% of all time before this moment, primates arose as a separate species.
2 million years ago, only 0.1% of time before this moment, homo sapiens first arrived on the scene.
Around 100 thousand years ago, less than 0.01% of time before now, homo sapiens came out of Africa for the first time.
A blink of an eye ago, humans started establishing civilizations.
We are a whisper of a blink of an eye long and yet here we are. Experiencing sights, sounds, tastes, aromas, touch, and that wordless sense of being alive the arises whenever I let it come to my attention in the present.
The Future
The Prepper
Pessimism draws me in. His buddy Existential Dread whispers that it’s really just realism. It’s totally ok to be a nihilist in the Big Lebowski mold. For me, pessimism arises when I am worrying and projecting a future full of failure, loss, or ennui. I’m still learning how to turn that frown upside down, so instead I tend to get into prepper mode. Can I turn these worrisome thoughts into action? What are the steps? What do I need to learn? How many lists can I make? Sometimes these plans are extremely fruitful, like my 2025 “Victory” Garden. More often, they are a record of where my brain was that day in my journal. But often on the other side of the transmutation of worry to plans, I can return to the present. To neutrality and immersion in the sensual world.
The Standard Bearer
I’ve found that optimism is generally hailed as the best mindset to have for success. If I could maintain optimism, perhaps I would also find that to be true. But for me, optimism is usually a rebound from pessimism. It’s the copium I ingested in the weeks leading up to the 2024 election. It is fantasy or bypassing my emotions, downplaying my own or others’ suffering. Rarely, I am able to harness these chaotic thoughts into something better: Hope.
Hope is a really strange thing. It’s not really belief or faith. It’s not self-delusion. At it’s core, hope seems to be a healthy survival mechanism, and beneficial to communities. I hope my hope will spark hope. I also have hope in the synergy of hope. Hope shared is hope multiplied. So when I find something to hope for, I will bring it to my platform to share in the hopes that we can nurture each others’ hope and find the signs and symbols of hope that can help us survive late stage capitalism.
Are you semantically satiated yet?
I am stepping into a new role for myself: an artist with a wide array of mediums to connect those of us who fan the flame of our hope for a more just society and to help us find respite and joy for the ongoing struggle.
The Realist
The realist deals in facts.
The realist reckons.
The realist acts.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve read the lists of what you can do, and I’m not sure I’ll add anything to them! But here are some ideas that help me deal with the uncertainty of the Future:
Participate in mutual aid and volunteering
Buy local
Bear witness the suffering of others
Resist illegitimate authority and do not comply in advance
Protest or support protestors as you are able
Make art and share it or give it to a loved one
Cultivate joy in nature
Take scheduled and consistent care of yourself in all the ways you know you should
If you’re having trouble finding a way to act, message me and we can chat about it together! This newsletter is one drop in the bucket from me, but feels inadequate as I edit my rough draft only a handful of weeks later. So much of democracy has degraded in that time. The Prepper in me is tired from the work of the victory garden. The Standard Bearer is still here because some consequences are happening. The Realist knows it is bad and is taking it one day at a time. It has been so easy for me to tell myself the story of chronic illness, perimenopause, “new meds”, or grief…but the truth is that the chaotic state of government is a unique stressor the Prepper never prepped for, and the Standard Bearer has few strategies for addressing. We are in this together, all citizens and all residents.
Almanac Notes
It’s almost the Solstice! Here in Michigan, that means the beginning of Summer and the most beautiful time of the year in the land of pleasant peninsulas. These long summer days sometimes make my sleep schedule wonky. It’s light out until nearly 10pm on the solstice for me. But when winter comes, these extra hours of sunlight will supply me with vitamin D and sweet summer memories.
It’s the season of purple in my yard, with decorative allium, grape kool-aid irises, lilacs, and columbine all hitting at once. The apple tree finally bloomed, and it’s crisp honey aroma is mixing with the vanilla of an ancient honeysuckle. The yard needs constant mowing, and I enjoy the work. I’m finally strong enough to do yardwork this year, and I can feel myself getting stronger as I struggle to keep up!
As I write this, it is 70 degrees and sunny. A few days ago, it was 80 and I went to my local beach and enjoyed some wading in the water while I hunted for rocks. I’m always drawn to red rocks, but the orange feldspar pieces are grabbing my attention. I have so many collected rocks, I could talk about them all day on a separate blog just about rocks and Michigan geology, but I’ll just share a few!
I went down a rabbit hole thinking about the rhythm of day length with the year and Yin and Yang symbolism and found myself making a simple grid layout for fiber crafts like crochet or cross-stitch and suddenly I was throwing oil paint on a canvas for the first time in years. I later broke out my guitar and was stunned to find myself playing Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” after tuning up. I feel the rumbling of an underground river of creativity…as I hoped would happen as I share what I care about with the world. As I creep out of my hermit’s den to see what’s what out here.
Check out my Beltane Almanac Volume download or my Slow Growth annual calendar reference. Not sure what I’m talking about? Check out the last two newsletters. The spring to summer transition is magical in Michigan. I hope you also find some inspiration in nature to bring into the new season.
See you soon for the Summer Solstice!
