extinction rebellion

We Are Here for All of Us

May 26, 2019

Extinction Rebellion is a global movement which exercises civil disobedience to transform environmental policies in parliament. You can find out more here at https://rebellion.earth/

 In April last month, 'Extinction Rebellion' held a successful 10 day long protest covering five major key sites in London. Amongst their daily accomplishments, they succeeded in gaining many more supporters, grabbing media attention world wide. On Wednesday the 24th of April, I was arrested at the Marble Arch road block and taken away to the Wandsworth cells, here is my story.

After an incredible ten days of protests, I awoke to find the last of the remaining road blocks at Marble Arch being dismantled. I had mixed feelings to see them go, but in a jubilant testament of celebration not surrender, a djembe band had arrived and were drumming their beats up and down the eerily empty roads. The energy was close to ecstatic and evoked in me emotions which intensified into tears of joy. Over the past ten days, a tiny but mighty force had gathered here in London. Fighting in the face of adversity, managing to make a stand against a legal authority who where lording it's power to blindly regain hold of it's financial goals. The police (law enforcers) were in notably larger number today, and I could sense a feeling of agitation from their ranks as they prepared for the imminent road opening. I followed the djembe band for a while, dancing along to the main stage where more numbers came to join us. But despite the joyous carnival of drums, a strange feeling kept pulling my thoughts back to the road blocks on Oxford Road. Reluctantly I left the party and wandered back over for one last look around. At the far end of the road towards Oxford Circus, I could see a group of people crowded around a small yellow tent. As I approached, I found two guys inside, their arms 'locked-on'* to each other, whilst the crowd where engaged in a debate.
I listened for a while. Some where trying to convince the men to leave, others where unsure of a course of action, while the general feeling from the tent was to stay and defend their post! A feeling of unease reminiscent from the morning came over me. Weighing on my mind was a feeling of confusion in seeing the roadblocks being given up a day ahead of schedule, so I joined the discussion to offer my opinion. My question to the group was why where our last remaining roadblocks, our 'greatest power' under negotiation with Met police over the vague promises of lorries or closing ceremonies.  Surely our roadblocks were here for a higher purpose: - for the advancement of environmental policies in parliament. So to de-man a station for anything less just didn't seem right. This opinion seemed to lift the spirits of the two protesters and again the decision making was thrown back in the air. The crowd asked for a vote, who would be in favour to stay and face arrest? But I was silent, I really, really didn't want to be arrested, and kept my hand firmly down. More time was requested but by then it was too late. The police began to move in and surround us. The 'kettling'* had begun.  
My next actions came from nowhere, but only as an instinct which reflected my inner thoughts and beliefs. In a wave of solidarity for the last two 'lonely' guys, who were doing what they believed in, and in what I believed in too, I jumped straight in the tent, and squeezed myself in right alongside them. 

The police were immediately on us, click - click, the long zoom lens of the 'liaison officers' camera had certainly just added me to their ever increasing list of 'domestic extremists'. In my mind, there was no going back, this was what it felt like to be the 'good guy', risking everything to make a stand for the rights of every living being on the planet. I tangled myself up in-between my two new friends Will and Alex and got on with my new task at hand. How I was going to remain in the tent for as long as it was going to take. I was particularly interested by the 'lock-on' device the guys were using. Each had an arm chained to each other inside a sturdy plastic tube and the only way out was to be cut out! I decided to stick my hand inside the edge of the tube which convincingly looked like I was somehow part of a mysterious three way device. So with nothing to lose, I decided to stay like that, unbeknown to the officers who would later come to extract us, that I could easily have been pulled out.

As I settled in for the long haul, Will one handedly, handed out some cards, "Lets read this out together" he suggested in an effort to raise our spirits. On the cards were written the verses of the 'Solemn Intention Statement', and we started to recited it together.

Let's take a moment, this moment, to
consider why we are here.
Let's remember our love , for this beautiful
planet that feeds, nourished and sustains us.
Lets remember our love for the whole
of humanity in all corners of the world.
Lets recollect our sincere desire to
protect all this, for ourselves, for all living
beings, and for generations to come.
As we act today, may we find the
courage to bring a sense of peace, love and
appreciation to everyone we encounter,
to every word we speak and to every
action we make. We are here for all of us.

We recited it again, and then again, and again. We recited the verses almost continuously over the next two hours, while we were arrested, while we were read our rights, and while we were being cut out and carried away.
As the power of this heartfelt message echoed off.. towards our arresting officers, towards the band of rebellion supporters and out onto the streets of oxford road, I forgot my fears of what was lying in wait as our futures hung in the balance. The unison of our voices, and the energy this invoked carried me far far away, and somehow it became the most incredible two hours of my life.

After a while, I started to tune into a chorus of excited and distressed voices behind us. We couldn't move much in our position, but Will managed to turn around just enough to see a large band of rebel supporters had gathered and were sitting behind our tent. I was filled with love, grateful for this support but the commotion had signalled the start of something. The police were picking them off one by one. The loading up of rebels had begun.     

We three were arrested much earlier on the floor of the yellow tent, but of course we had to wait for the cutting team to arrive. We were asked all sorts of questions as they tried to gain an understanding of the mysterious three way device but I preferred to keep my focus on the verses, after all it was a protest, and I didn't want to make it too easy for them. The removal of the lock-on tube was a strange experience. There was some concern in having someone saw away so close to my hand, but we were parted soon enough and carried off to the waiting van. I made my body go limp like a rag doll so they had quite a bit of trouble loading me in to the back where the other protesters sat.  After a few failed attempts they gave up and I ended up in the middle section alongside the arresting officers. As I buckled up for the ride, I was in disbelief to see that none of the police officers had bothered to wear their seatbelts as I had done. So, I decided to make a point of it and asked my arresting officer to turn on her body camera so I could make an 'on the record' statement. I questioned why Met police officers supposed upholders and indeed prosecutors of the law where knowingly engaging in a criminal activity. Surprisingly I was met with absolute unconcern. No one even batted an eyelid except my arresting officer who offered to put hers on to make me happy, never mind the law!? 

Some time later my fellow arrestees pressed their heads to the glass which separated our compartments. As they peered around, our eyes made contact and I was filled with warmth as we exchanged comforting smiles. I was at that point feeling a bit sorry for myself, thinking it must be nice to be in the back, sharing laughs and jokes with the rest of them. But then, the most wonderful thing started to happen! Out of nowhere, being chanted upon high was a loud chorus of none other than "SEATBELT REBELLION"! Embarrassment was the appropriate term for the atmosphere in my compartment and I was filled with reassurance. I was glad to hear I wasn't they only one with concerns, and we rebels were all on the same wavelength here!

On arrival at the 'nick'*, I realised I was rather unprepared for the arrest. I hadn't gone to any Extinction Rebellion preparatory training sessions, and I had lost the list of solicitors given to me by the legal witness in the tent. I decided to play it safe and managed to keep up a 'no comment' default during the check-in, which was going nicely until out popped my drivers licence revealing my name (better luck next time). As my arresting officer continued to empty the contents of my handbag she came across a little plastic 'baggie'* with a rather suspicious looking lump inside. She turned to me,

"Is that hash" she said, her eyes wide!
"No" I replied, "it's a medicinal mushroom its called chaga".
"Eh is it magic mushroom"? (clearly she was not very used to dealing with the straight laced hippy type)
"No it's just makes a herbal medicinal tea.. honest"!

After confirming the chaga did have the faintest of mushroom smells, and because the next thing she pulled out of my handbag was a tiny tea strainer, she seemed happy enough to believe me. After check-in, I was taken into a separate room to have my face, finger prints and DNA recorded. And then I began to wonder... I knew the first two requests were pretty mandatory but I was doubtful about giving a DNA sampling. I recalled something about certain activities not being DNA recordable and surely suspicion of sitting in the road, was not of the variety to require a sample such as suspicion of rape or murder. As I have developed a healthy level of caution when it comes to dealing with Met police officers over the years, I thought it best to listen to the voice of reason instead of the continued demands of the officer in charge.  On the principle of this argument, I refused to give consent to my details to be taken and was lead away to my cell until I could confirm things with my solicitor.

Three hours later, I was finally able to speak with a kind representative at Bindmans. Bless his soul, as he took the time to trawl through his law journals to find out where I stood on DNA recording. But alas, I didn't have a leg to stand on as the existing law is geared towards population of the national DNA database irrespective of human rights. Still, the principle of not cooperating for something I didn't believe in was firmly within my control and some time later I received another prison cell visit from the 'boys in blue'*. They tried again to persuaded me into cooperating to give my sample but I remained fixed on my position. In a final attempt, the officer proceeded to point out they could and would take my hair by force, and they were going to be needing a substantial amount! "Okay fine". I said in compete acceptance of my situation and away he went in frustration.

As the hours passed it was close to midnight when my solicitor finally arrived. Under his advice I gave a no comment interview. It seemed disappointing to all involved, especially as the questions seemed oh so very interesting, but I was ready to play it safe. I couldn't stand being 'banged-up'* for a moment longer. The continuous buzzing of the custody cell with all it's cctv and lighting circuit boards had taken it's toll.  Bleary eyed from lack of sleep I was thoroughly fed up! I even opened my mouth to allow them to take a cheek swab in the end - what a softy I had become! 

At 3.30 am, I was released from my cell and brought to the desk to learn my fate. They had decided not to make any immediate charges and I would be released under investigation, translating to 'keep your nose-clean* for the next 6 months', before being turfed out onto the mean streets of Wandsworth. A light drizzle had started, and I was without jacket, bus or a clue of how to get back. One would think there would be a common sense policy in regards to releasing alone women in the middle of the night, but of course one does not exist. I was lucky to be received into the loving arms of a beautiful extinction rebellion support worker who pointed me to his car boot filled with snacks and a blanket but for many arrested women in England this would be a different ending. 

Afterthought
Here is one story out of many thousands, marking one day and night of resistance and rebellion. Perhaps you may read this and think of me as a stubborn or uncooperative person, but I hope that my reasons are clear. My approach comes from a belief that we are living in a time where we need to start to look for the truth in all aspects of our lives. It is never really a question of the state taking our power away, it is about us giving it away, time and time again. I would also like to touch upon an issue which I have heard spoken of quite often 'can we trust the police'? While I can say that I have met many personable police officers, each of them a caring human being like you and me. It is important to remember it is the collective institution to which they are bound that will always take precedence for their actions. While you might meet officers appearing sympathetic to you or your cause at the end of the day it is not they who are calling the shots they are simply following orders to carry out the 'dirty work' of the powers at the top. 


Kettling                               A police tactic for surrounding and restricting protester movement
Lock-on / locked-on            A method/device for temporarily keeping two or more protesters together
Baggie                                A small plastic bag used to sell and store illegal drugs
Nick                                    Police station
Boys in blue                       Police
Banged up                          Locked up in a cell 
Keep your nose clean        Staying on the right side of the law

environment

The Truth Behind HS2 - Memoirs of a protest

February 21, 2019


For Beth,

‘The Truth Behind HS2’, is the title of a short documentary I was writing while living at the HS2 protest camp. The idea came when a camp supporter, ‘Dwight Rabbit’ wanted to create a film on the reality of HS2 and asked if I could provide the narrative. Although I left camp before the documentary was complete. I have used this work to reflect on my personal experiences during this time.

Dwight Rabbit is currently working on ‘The Seedling Project’. You can find out more about his current work at https://www.facebook.com/TheSeedlingProject.UK/


Whilst facing one of the hardest winters in 30 years we can no longer deny climate change. Species extinction is happening at a phenomenal rate and environmental disaster is approaching. We can’t escape the constant reminder that we are consuming too much and polluting each and every corner of our natural world. It appears humanity has taken a nose-dive and hope no longer lies in this elected government, so who do we turn to?


My name is Black Cat and I’ll be taking you through my journey… waking up to the modern-day tragedy of apathy and finding the courage to stand up, because to give up is the end.


In October 2017, I said farewell to my friends and family to explore community living here in the UK. While ‘on the road’, I heard of a protest camp against the development of a new high-speed train line called 'HS2'. Despite not knowing anything about protest camps or HS2, I decided to go along for a few weeks before flying south for the winter. But what initially began as a two week stop over, ended up becoming a longer-term undertaking. As for the first time in my life ever, I joined an exciting movement for social justice, environmental and political change.


On the 14th of November 2017. On what felt like the coldest autumn day since I had started my travels, I set off for the Colne Valley protest. I had camped in cold weather before, but this was a bitter bone shaking cold and I wondered if I would last out the week.


                       


When I arrived at camp, flags and banners were a-blaze. Messages of ‘Save our Nature Reserves’ and ‘Wildlife Crimes’, were hung high, rippling in the trees. It certainly looked like the environmental protest I had imagined, and I fully expected to find a ‘hippy eco warrior’ clinging to a tree. But when I came to meet the protesters for the first time, I was in for a surprise. Here were a group of unextraordinary, pleasant looking folk drinking tea around the camp fire, and I couldn’t help but think, there was more going on here than first meets the eye.


                                         


The drifting hippies were actually local people from all walks of life. One camp member and full-time resident had been campaigning against HS2 environmental damage for several years, while her passenger boat business was likely to suffer too. Other protesters resided in the local mariner, where construction works were also set to wreak havoc. The stereotypes I had in my mind were quickly fading. The reality was, this was a gathering of the concerned community, who were coming together to protect a land and life they loved, because HS2 threatened to take it all.


                                         


Before arriving at the protest camp, I was certain I wouldn’t be involved in any direct action. Afterall, I was only looking for somewhere to camp for a few weeks, and the image of the angry protester shouting and shaking their fist, was enough to put me off! I had decided to stay well away from that and had in mind a more romantic image of spending my time playing protest songs on the guitar.


But that idea soon faded when I was introduced to ‘the office’! because inside a large multifunctional tent, there was an exciting world of ‘behind the scenes’ protesting going on. There was paperwork and emails, legislations to read, charities to contact, petitions to work on, social media to update, and suddenly, this was starting to look like, ‘my kind of protest!’


As the days passed, I got to know more and more about the enormity of what was happening, and the list was quite extensive. Loss of habitat, endangerment of protected species, the effects on air pollution and water quality and all this was happening inside of a nature reserve! I could see that the need to save Colne Valley was of high importance, but the democratic means I was working on had all been engaged in previous years to no real avail. Sadly, the reality we all know is that money talks, and in applying this principle, the Colne Valley action camp had other ways of catching HS2’s attention.


I would watch in admiration as my fellow protestors would bravely set about climbing diggers and blocking entrance gates. Direct action was certainly making its impact, but although I had come to know the magnitude of what they were standing for and while I believed in them every-one bit. I remained firmly stuck to my resolve – “direct action is not for me".

                                         


Then one day, a few weeks after my arrival, Jonathon Bartley, the coleader of the Green Party came to visit and with him came the BBC.


That evening we made the 6 o’clock news, and oh what fun it was to see us all on the telly. But what really caught my attention was when I heard Jonathon Bartley’s interview for the first time. “When local people have been side-lined, when it seems councils have been bought off with government money, absolutely is right that local people should take direct action”! My heart lifted, and I finally felt relief. Hearing this level of validation being pledged from a reputable political party, who were saying, ‘yes, we fully support this protest’, became the reassurance that I needed.


                                     


Jonathon Bartley’s words became a turning point for me, and I embraced direct action as if a switch had turned. Before I knew it, I was scaling fences and occupying entrance gates, and we were pretty successful at it. But rather than engage us in talks, HS2 decided to retaliate with one last barrier that governments and multinationals like to hide behind, ‘criminalisation’. Because the law is designed to work for them not us.


All my life I had been, like most others, a fearful law-abiding citizen. But since I believed it was right to protesting HS2 on moral and ethical grounds, I was fully prepared to stand for my actions. Now the unfortunate thing is, with the police force firmly at the beck and call of the ‘powers that be’, the actions of a protester will easily fall onto the wrong side of the law and I was deeply saddened at the level of policing I saw. Wrongful arrests, threats, deceitful and coercive tactics, were all a betrayal of the justice system that I had once believed in. This manipulation and miss-use of the law, to protect an otherwise unlawful project, broke my faith in the justice system, and in the words of Jonathon Bartley, summoned with every being in my body, ‘it absolutely was right to protest’.


                                                


We spent a lot of time connecting with the local community, which greatly helped us build new relationships and networks. We always said, ‘if we were going to save Colne Valley, we needed everyone to come together’! I also had my own personal quest. In my early days, I had arrived at camp full of misconception of what a protest might be and who I would find there. When I later discovered that the media image was a far-stretched fantasy, I wanted to end this disservice and help to change the way protesting is seen. I hoped that by going into the community, people would get to know who we really were. People just like you (and me)!


While most people were in support of stopping HS2, there were others who held a different view. Some were hostile and angry towards us, some were indifferent, some had long given up and though it was time we went home too.


The anger often came from passing cars, they really liked to tell us (shout at us) to ‘get a job’. This was always a surprise to hear, because of course, my understanding was, that we were doing a job. Unfortunately, prejudice becomes common place when jobless is a ‘dirty word’, and at the side of the road, we were an easy target. In all fairness most people driving past may not have had any idea what was happening on camp. To many, we must have looked bonkers, thinking we were stopping HS2 by sitting around a camp fire and drinking a rather fine amount of tea! But it wasn’t all work and no play.


The indifference people felt was above all the hardest thing to accept. How was it possible when living with HS2 on your doorstep? Be it the ludicrous costs, or the removal of ancient woodland, surely there was something for everyone to dislike. But as the story goes, the communities here had been chasing HS2 through parliament petition after petition for +7 years, finally in 2017, the project was granted royal assent, leaving this extraordinary effort to amount to nothing. It seemed that the resignation of feeling for many was to either accept what was happening or to ignore it. I resonated with a different emotion. I had arrived here knowing I would be part of this community only for a finite time. I knew HS2 wasn’t changing my way of life and I didn’t have to forever live with the consequences. But every day I did meet the people whose homes and livelihoods would be destroyed. Every day I was moved by their plight and I was fully determined to help.


                                        


One particularly wintery December weekend, while holding onto a pink fluffy hot water bottle for warmth, I was arrested and taken away on suspicion of blocking the highway. Eight hours, a vegan chili and three cups of tea later, I was released without charge, although given the plummeting temperatures, I wouldn’t have said no to spending the weekend in the nick! But there was worse to come. One morning out of nowhere, a team of law enforcement agents arrived on camp with thick bundles of legal papers. HS2 were seeking an injunction, and seven named defendants, (I being number five) were being taken to the high court!


It was a terribly stressful time for us. HS2 were after damages, court costs, and a camp eviction while we couldn’t even cover the costs for a solicitor between us. We spent weeks tangled up in a mountain of paperwork trying our best to decipher the legal jargon in the evidence we were given. The injustice of the situation was hard for anyone to believe. This multi-billion-pound project with access to public money had forced seven protesters to the high court. HS2 were able to enlist top international solicitors, Evershed and Sutherland to take the case with months of compiled paperwork, whilst us defendants had little financial option, but to represent ourselves in court. Talk about the upper hand! We would have loved to take the government and HS2 to court, but of course for us the funding does not exist. The good news was that on the day, Mr Justice Barling the high court judge appeared to recognise the importance of our efforts and saw fit to safe guard the camp against eviction whilst negotiating costs back to HS2, but all the same the injunction was granted.


                                        


What people find interesting is that I am a (retired) Engineer. I worked for many years on controversial oil and gas construction-based jobs and even spent 10 months on a job site in my own overalls and high-vis jacket! Because of this background, it’s been easy for me to relate to the HS2 workforce, after all, it’s only been 3 years since I was on the other side of the fence, working for the other guy! I’ve tried to approach protesting with compassion because I remember how I felt when I was in the system. I thought my job and my comforts were the accomplishment of life. Ultimately, what will stop HS2 will be an inner change in people’s mindsets, then their jobs will naturally follow. It’s not something you can force anyone else to do, however much anger you want to take out on someone, or guilt you try and make someone feel. Change is a very personal journey; some people may find their way there now but for others it may take a lifetime.


Being part of this protest, has been one of the most enriching and treasured experiences of my life. Here, I met a group of people with exceptional courage, inspiration and selflessness, whom I will always be in gratitude.

In my six months at camp, I have learnt that protesting as an essential activity. Just the expression of protest, is as every bit as important as the outcome. Every right we have has been won, and by protesting we continue to set those limits. It is our greatest power. The simple fact that the camp is here, is a very positive statement. This powerful image continues to give the message, yes there is a spirit alive in England, and by providing people with ‘something’ to become part of, opens the way for others to unite. If as a result, if we managed to inspire just one person and set them off on their own journey to the truth, then to me that’s a job well done.


What I realise now is that, when you try at anything there is no such thing as losing because you will always win; in ways that you never would have imagined. I overcame my fears and developed the mental strength to live out the winter in a tent at the side of the road. In the company of environmentalists, I received an education into environmental law and ecology and thanks to the Hillingdon Green Party, I had a truly incredible experience running for local Council. But above all, I started writing. Writing to share the truth because the people are listening and the time when one day we will live in harmony will come.


Everyday people would tell me ‘but you know you’re not going to stop it don’t you?’ and every time I would react with the same surprise. Where does so much indifference and lack of self-belief come from? We need to start telling our children, yes, they CAN. BE. DO. ACHIEVE anything in life. Of course we can stop it, not me alone, but us together. Look at what a small group of people here managed to achieve. Yes, it’s going to be difficult to stop HS2 but even HS2 are starting to realise that its’ possible, because they know we think we can stop them, and if we think we can stop them.. well then, that’s when change starts to happen. It all begins with a positive thought…


Final Word


                                      


Sarah Green is a full-time resident and environmental campaigner residing at the Colne Valley wildlife protection camp. She is being taken to Uxbridge Magistrates Court on the 1st of April, charged with aggravated trespass. If she is found guilty, the injunction at Harvil road can be invoked with serious consequences. Sarah has been tirelessly campaigning for many years, for the protection of Colne Valley. With great risk and love she selflessly continues to put her life on hold, and on the line.

If you are able to support Sarah, a crowd fund page has been set up to help her raise money for the costs of the court proceedings.

https://l.messenger.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.crowdjustice.com%2Fcase%2Fprotect-londons-drinking-water%2F%3Futm_source%3Dbacker_social%26utm_campaign%3Dprotect-londons-drinking-water%26utm_reference%3D2efb11e1bbfdce45fda45f7f351cd835%26utm_medium%3DFacebook%26utm_content%3Dpost_pledge_page_flat_v1&h=AT0q-tpTWGXiUdwPSGOvOrtwoA4jW9naHzZk4aTZpJZfYbPF7F9OjKlI6T3-4GT_HNsXQ6W-Vc6NbLKBBcR_L9lKYhD3xVvrAgpbWCqlZrmHbfaaq5T4lRLXWrQlDYIU68zrIpZdtrZuR3pjtHw


Unfortunately, what is happening here at Colne Valley not only impacts London, it is a global issue which affects us all, no matter where we are from in the world. Please share this article so that we can reach out and make change happen.

Childhood Trauma

Balance the Divine - Part three: Finding the Balance

February 01, 2019





Balance the Divine, is written as a three-part series of articles which together give a complete story. Written from personal experience, I have endeavoured to address the important issue of finding harmony between the divine masculine and divine feminine, inside of ourselves. 


Three of Three: Finding the Balance
I have been living in Glastonbury now for several months and the celebration of the divine feminine is dominant everywhere. From paintings, to books and souvenirs, the shops along the high street are full of things adorning the goddess. Here you can take a workshop in reclaiming the cunt, or wander along to the weekly held wytches market. Never before have I seen or heard of so much praise for women, instead of the criticism that I have been more used to.
I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I have begun to view femininity in a positive way. Where once I was embarrassed to appear too feminine, I am now happy to express myself in any way that I choose. And the good news is, that I haven’t had to work at it. I now see the deeper purpose to cooking and cleaning (activities I once looked down upon), as uplifting energy work and I am not ashamed to be seen doing it either. Thank you, Glastonbury! The place where the divine feminine energies have been effortlessly enriching. 
But I am now facing a new challenge. In a recent personal struggle, coming to terms with male aggression on social media, I have been left with a feeling of underlying negativity towards men. This anger, towards male dominance and suppression, together with my restored appreciation for womankind, has reversed my feelings of female inferiority, back towards men. The pendulum has swung, and I know this will be the most difficult part of the journey. This hurt runs deep, deeper than the wound of supressing my feminine being. I am dealing with my anger towards this male dominated world, where outwardly, it would seem that men are in control and responsible for much of its destruction. While we sit on the brink of environmental and ecological collapse and bear witness to the horrors of this world, I know that ultimately this isn’t a war on the masculine. Every one of us embodies both the masculine and the feminine, and it is when this balance is out of kilter that much damage is done.  
I have initiated the search for balance, by shining a light on my reactive emotions. Here, I’ve found the cause originated while growing up. While I can say “my mother was like this” and “my father was like that”, I don’t feel the need to address anything with them. They have provided experiences that I am thankful for, and now it is over to me to take responsibility and learn from them. It is only by addressing these feelings in me that I can forgive myself and forgive those who contributed to them.
So, it starts with me, but I have been feeling quite alone in this journey. I haven’t found much external help for cultivating an appreciation for a divine masculine. Perhaps this is a problem in Glastonbury? The wonder and awe of beautiful goddess energy has been an eye-opening experience for me but while I reclaim my feminine power, I feel Glastonbury can make it easy to dismiss men. I strongly feel, that the future of Glastonbury, as a place of physical, emotional and spiritual healing, the heart chakra of the world (some would say), will need to start addressing this balance to allow ourselves to heal completely, and send this energy out into the world.


Divine Masculine

Balance the Divine - Part two: The Divine Masculine

January 29, 2019


Balance the Divine, is written as a three-part series of articles which together give a complete story. Written from personal experience, I have endeavoured to addresses the important issue of finding harmony between the divine masculine and divine feminine, inside of ourselves.


I recently witnessed a social media conflict rage out of control. After endless online arguments, weeks later the site was finally shut down. The cause of all this anger was the appearance of a well-intended post that was trying to bring to light ongoing sexually inappropriate behaviour within a temporary ‘festival like’ community. But instead of coming together in order to address the issue, the opposite had happened. The comments that followed came predominantly from men who were either exonerating each other, in complete denial, or simply throwing about hateful remarks. Although I did not agree with the public posting of the sensitive topic, I was hopeful that it would at least provide an answer to the scale of the problem. However, the dominance of male aggression had created an intensely hostile environment which seemed to prevent the core discussion from happening.

This downward spiral was heart-breaking, and as the calls for understanding and empathy went unheard, I started to despise this prevalence of damaging, male dominating behaviours. In the days and weeks that followed, I became intolerant of interactions with men where I felt undermined. I could no longer be patronised or condescended, without fiercely retaliating back with my own aggression! Following a particularly explosive and regrettable incident with a bus driver, I knew something was out of kilter and much damage was being done. I needed to restore my inner peace. 
Now most of my adult life, I have thought of masculinity as superior to the feminine in some way and I have often sided with men in the great masculine/feminine divide. So, this change of feeling in me, which can best be described as an underlying negativity towards men, was confusing to say in the least. After speaking with a friend, I started to reflect on memories of growing up with my father. My father, in a state of undiagnosed depression, had been out of work much of my life. Stuck in his mental prison, he was unable to acknowledge or meet my emotional needs. While he expressed parental care and love on some level, his tyrannical approach had caused a whole range of complex and intense emotions to develop towards him: embarrassment, disappointment, fear, irritation. It was from here, inside of this sensitive and guarded past that these feelings were surfacing and being projected towards men in my present-day relationships.    

Recognising this problem has now allowed a process of healing to start. I feel I have a duty of personal responsibility to overcome these feelings because the end goal will not only bring lasting benefit to my peace of mind but also for those around me. However, in learning to appreciate the masculine, I feel there is much work to be done. I tried making a list of masculine virtues, as something to be grateful for, except I failed to note even one. Are there no virtues of men? Everything I thought to list through commonly held beliefs such as, protection, logic, and strength, seemed ambiguous or dualistic. Disheartened by the task I had set myself, I came to a realisation. When I looked closely, I was not able to attribute any virtues as being solely masculine since women possess these qualities too, and in saying that, the opposite is also true. Men possess conventionally held feminine qualities such as kindness, nurture and gentleness. We all, male and female, must endeavour to practise a range of virtues and each should be cultivated equally. It is only then that we can become balanced and whole in our being. So, the question remaining is how to begin?

Divine Feminine

Balance the Divine - Part one: The Divine Feminine

January 29, 2019

Balance the Divine, is written as a three-part series of articles which together give a complete story. Written from personal experience, I have endeavoured to address the important issue of finding harmony between the divine masculine and divine feminine, inside of ourselves.




“I’m a tom boy” I would proudly say. “Really?” People would reply much surprised, “I think you’re quite feminine”. “But… I’m a Mechanical Engineer, I drink pints and play football… all my friends are boys!”

I have spent much of my adult life rejecting femininity. It’s not that I minded being a girl, but somewhere in my late teens while I was exploring who I was in the world, I became deeply affected by negative portrayals of women. I saw cooking and cleaning as activities to look down upon, and not to mention emotional instability was rife amongst us! These negative stereotypes that were engrained in me by the main stream media seemed common place, and as I started to hear these comments banded about by my male friends, I was desperate to get away from it.  At the height of this time, in my early twenties, I was wearing baggy trousers, drinking pints of bitter and captaining a football team. “I’m not one of those girls who guys make fun of, I’m one of the lads”. My mission was complete.

In the years that followed, my inner natural expressions did begin to surface. (although I use the term ‘natural’ with caution, as natural is quite difficult to accomplish when subject to the pressures of the fashion, and beauty industries). The personal need to be physically attractive, eventually replaced the t-shirts and baggy trousers and I even took up yoga, an activity that I had avoided, as being ‘a woman’s exercise’, and regretfully once discouraged an ex boyfriend from practicing! As time went on, steady progress continued to be made. Primarily, this was down to the influence of my close girl-friends, because in them, I could see and aspire towards their self-confidence of being. But despite this, the need to be liked by, and to be part of the ‘boy’s-club’, could not allow me to give up my dislike for thinking or acting like a woman, and so my internal conflict continued.

I first came to Glastonbury in November 2016 and was charmed by each day full of the magic of synchronicities and revelations. One evening a friend asked me to come to a red tent (a heart sharing circle) in the Goddess House. I initially cringed at the idea but decided to go along to ‘while away’ a few hours. I carried with me, my usual air of embarrassment when it comes to doing ‘women’s things’, however as the group started to cast their desires and intentions in the circle, I began to wonder why, in this room of women I liked, was I feeling so out of place? What was it that I was not accepting? And for the first time, I began to wonder if my rejection of the feminine all these years, was down to the relationship with my mother? Had her mental health disorder, which resulted in inaccessibility and detachment from her, been the reason for my denial of womankind all these years? I voiced this out to the group and received back some affirmative nods. And at that moment, it became my intention to accept and appreciate the feminine in me. And then, I almost forgot all about it.

environment

Local Elections

October 04, 2018


Johnathon Bartley (coleader of the Green Party) visits the camp, describing HS2 as ‘environmental vandalism’.
For the past seven years, HS2 has blighted local communities threatening to destroy homes, businesses and quality of life.  Over the years, countless local residents have come together to oppose HS2, but sadly in mid-2017, the project was granted Royal Assent and for many marked the end of a long and heart-breaking battle.
Hillingdon Green Party members were amongst those who had tirelessly campaigned. With their combined efforts taking them from the select committee review to giving evidence in the House of Lords. After exhausting these democratic processes, they have now moved to the front line at the Harefield Wildlife Protection Camp on Harvil Road, where they are recording and reporting environmental and construction concerns on a daily basis. And so far, they’ve been pretty successful at it, finding evidence of environmental mismanagement, directly resulting in a HS2 planning application being denied.
The Green Party had recently focusing their efforts in winning seats in the Council Elections, believing it to be an area where much more could be done. With Hillingdon Council now acting as an authorising authority with HS2, they believe measures needed to be put in place to protects residents from inevitable budgets cuts and project delays and green councillors would be sure to have brought in a much-needed balanced view to these decisions. 
The Green Party put in a commendable effort to this election campaign, with a record-breaking number of candidates running throughout the wards. Special emphasis was on Harefield and other areas greatly affected, but despite their tough campaign they failed to break the Tory stronghold. 
Sofia kazi, resident at the Wildlife Protection Camp and Ickenham candidate says 'The disappointment of the elections has run deep. This important avenue in the fight against HS2 would have brought fresh hope to the area'. 
 
 But undeterred by this setback, the Wildlife Protection Camp have resolved to continue in it's united mission, to leave no stone unturned and to do everything in its power to stop the continued destruction of HS2.