Hello, dear Islands.
We’ve survived another summer, and look at the glorious sunshine out there now. This is the kind of weather that makes you want to talk about the weather to everyone you see.
“Beautiful day!”
“It is!”
It’s not hard to feel positive when the sun shines low and golden on an autumn afternoon. This is where we should orient ourselves, here and now, to take stock on this Aries Full Moon on the eve of the apocalypse, to gain a little perspective. This is what we have, now. Who knows how long it will last?
I’ve had a long summer to do not much else but think. I think we should write a song.
A song can change the world. Not every song does, but a song can change you. Singing a song you made yourself can rewire your brain, and singing it can spread the virus around. Music, married with story and poetry, adds up to magic, the real sort of vibrational magic that works through the laws of harmony, melody, synchronicity, meaning and rhyme. Songs are spells.
Of course, a song doesn’t have to be revolutionary or deep. It can be lighthearted and sweet, or ironic and satirical, or tell a funny story. A song can be silly. No two people will ever come up with the same one. Songs are a good thing.
Even songs of pain, suffering, trauma, and oppression add up to harmony. They set us free, transform our reality. Songs of heartbreak can heal our hearts; songs of anger can motivate us to change what’s wrong in our lives. This is true whether we write the songs or not. Songs soundtrack revolutions, but how much more powerful can it be when the songs come from our own souls?
If you’ve ever written a song (or would like to) there’s a space opening on Fridays at the Hornby Arts Centre at 7 p.m. Every songmaker is welcome! Let’s spread the news in music and maybe even change the world with songs and magic. We don’t need the internet, or radio waves, or even to be heard outside the room. It’s about shifting the vibe—opening spaces between our cells and selves.
So that’s what. I’ve had a lot to think, and I’m full up.
I think all government is corrupt, because they are all subject to forces: lobbyists, corporate interests, foreign interference, hidden powers behind the scenes, the temptations of wealth and power, the struggle and compromise it takes to get to the top, it all corrupts. Right wing? Left wing? Who cares, the poor old bird is dying. Governments are starting to split at the seams. It could all fall down unexpectedly quickly. These are chaotic times.
Our hope doesn’t lie in trying to change governments. It’s too late for that; it’s been tried and failed over and over. It’s time to keep our feet on the ground, to develop and nurture relationships within and between our local communities. Grow the next new thing from the ground up.
We do have to obey rules imposed from above, bureaucratically tone-deaf and inapplicable to our local situations, and that’s frustrating for those who have to deal with bureaucracy. In my opinion, the most important work we can do is strengthen our internal affairs: develop inter-community connections and neighbourhood relationships.
Gather in groups through the winter. Get to know each other. Share vulnerable stories. Sing together. Dance together. Learn the stories behind the familiar faces. It’s amazing how shallow our relationships have become with the advent of the internet. We spend so much energy talking to people who, if the machine ever stops, we may never hear from again.
I don’t mean to be a doom crier, but I grew up on sci-fi tales with titles like The Machine Stops, about the dangers of extreme dependence on technologies that could shut down in a moment, for reasons we can’t even anticipate. An extreme solar storm. Terrorist attacks on infrastructure. Climate change. Running out of energy to sustain the grid. So many things could go wrong.
The heroes are the folks who grow the food right here. And it isn’t enough, but if it all goes to fluff, I don’t think it would take long for us to pull together and do what needs to be done. We’re very blessed to live here, with a friendly climate and a co-operative, supportive community.
I suppose I’m thinking apocalyptically. It’s easy to do right now. After all, we just had the Rapture. And apparently, American cities are turning into war-torn hellscapes requiring military intervention. Yeah. Weird, weird times.
Just kidding. The Rapture didn’t really happen. Did it?
Is anyone missing?
That’s what I think. What do you think? Email me at phoenixonhornby@gmail.com
