Simple, necessary changes

l’ll be honest — climate change has become one of the things that keeps me up at night. The more I read, the more I fear for the future world we will likely face. It may not be a world I personally face, but I definitely fear the world we leave for the next generation.

So, I’m taking more steps to limit the impact my life has on the lives of those who follow me.

We use LEDs more these days, after seeing first-hand how much brighter they are during the long, cold and beyond-dark winter months in Helsinki. I no longer drive since my US driver’s licence expired more than a decade ago. I walk when I have the time more often than not. And, since last September I’ve been a vegetarian (completely unrelated, but now I can’t imagine going back). For those who understand my undying devotion to every single cheese ever made, I now eat about half if not a quarter of what I once consumed. And, because y’all understand you’ll need to pry my coffee cup from my cold dead hand, oddly, I prefer Oatly for my daily java jolts. I tried it after being dazzled by a rather witty ad blitz earlier this year, and it’s actually quite tasty. Since they also make other non-dairy ‘dairy-like products, I’ve tried them and like them as well.

I’m fairly certain my own carbon footprint sucks. But, I’m working on as many changes as possible to reduce it as much as possible. And, my life is largely unchanged if not fitter. Walking (and running) about 50 km per week has it’s benefits, from reducing my carbon footprint to allowing me to process the anxiety related to it.

You don’t need to go to extremes to reduce your carbon footprint. Small changes can make a huge difference. If you aren’t that concerned about the world you’ll inhabit in your own future, perhaps you’ll pause to think about the world your children and grandchildren will be forced to endure. That world may not be nearly as beautiful nor as hospitable, and that’s on us. Particularly if we continue to shirk our collective responsibility to implement incredibly simple changes in addition to larger ones that might just save us all.

On ‘On Tyranny’, by Timothy Snyder

On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth CenturyOn Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Two minutes in to this book, I said to my husband, ‘This should be required reading for every single person in the United States.’

Two minutes later, I amended that absolutely everyone. Everywhere.

The last two-plus years have been a surreal nightmare for anyone longing for a just, fact- or evidence-based world, ruled by democratic principles or adherent and respectful to the rule of law. We should have understood how fragile our democracies were. We should have known how easy it is for the likes of the Trumps and the Farages of the world to rile up racist, classist, xenophobic, misogynistic sentiments.

We should not be surprised by how quickly this all becomes the new normal. It’s all intended to exhaust us and wear us down. And, I fear it’s working a little too well.

I lived in Moscow as the keys to the kingdom passed from Boris Yeltsin to Vladimir Putin. And, I watched as the masses ignored his assault on the budding free press and democratic infancy of the post-Soviet era that favoured rampant oligarchy and corruption and as Putin crushed any sort of dissent or criticism. In a world run by those with the most power, it mattered not that one of the wealthiest individuals on the planet criticised Putin. He lost and ended up behind bars and silenced, because he pissed of Putin. I watched in horror as Russians declared their love for the man with the stone-cold stare who craved power above all. And, he still does.

Everyone–everyone—needs to read this book. And, keep it close to them as we watch the shit storm in the US primarily but elsewhere continue. And, everyone must understand that we are teetering awfully close to full-on, full-scale tyranny.

I’ll be reading this book again and again and again.

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Nothing but time

I am acutely aware of time at the moment.

The Cuban, ever my greatest cheerleader and most attentive sounding board, has reassured me again and again that I remain a spring chicken. As I enter my 50th (HOLY SHIT) year, I am reminded that we have but one life and a limited amount of time during which to live it.

I want for nothing this year, except more time. More time to spend with those whom I love. More time to explore areas near and far, known and unfamiliar alike. More time to read and understand more about this world in which I live. More time to stop and smell the roses and daisies and lilacs and all the other flowers. More time to face the judgement of my darling cat. More time to run and see just how far I can push myself physically. More time work with talented students and young researchers. Time. Just time. I want more of it.

It amazes me how crazy fast the years pass now. In the blink of an eye, we’ve journeyed around the sun yet again. To me, the foolishness of youth believes in the notion that each of us has all the time in the world and and endless supplies of tomorrows. Or maybe that is the consummate procrastinator who sits upon my shoulder whispering, ‘later’ and ‘tomorrow’ and ‘mañana’ again and again and again. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one; yet, knowing this and living its reality are two entirely different things.

As I reflect upon the passage of time I want more of it. But, I also realise that I realise just how good I have it in this specific moment. I may work too much, and spend entirely too much time obsessing over the idiocy of others (as well as my own). But, this little life I’ve enjoyed over the past 49 years has been a fantastic ride so far. And, welcome whatever comes next and for however long I have to enjoy it.

And, as The Cuban says, ‘I got your spring chicken right here!’

 

spring chicken - 01

The Cuban’s traditional birthday chicken. Just for me.

Words matter

Words matter. The words we use and choose reflect where and upon what we place importance. They convey our emotions; they create our narratives, and help others understand our positions as well as our passions. We all need to choose them a bit more carefully and with far more thought, particularly on those issues which are most important to us.

As various white men in the US decide that women must be incubators in some states, the world is melting. Rather than do something that requires immediate action and would potentially save countless thousands if not millions of humans lives (never mind plant and animal species) from the very real possibility of the devastating coming climate crisis we’ve created and accelerated, let’s instead focus on forcing women to breed.

Thank you, The Guardian, for changing your language and not sugar-coating your coverage. Climate crisis, climate heating, species extinction, and all that comes with it petrifies me. Because I’d like to see my friends’ children thrive and live long lives to enjoy their own children and so on.

And, I’d like that world in which they live to feature more than mere pictures of various creatures that once existed.

Just stop

I am so terribly weary from being a woman at the moment.

Last summer, a friend visiting Helsinki brought along pictures from the Women’s Rights March in DC from 1992, I believe. One of the signs from that day that my friends and I carried read, ‘US out of my uterus’. And, here we are

It’s not just the laws, governing and policing of lady bits going on. Or the pain and uncertainty that women living in those specific parts of the US or world will or currently feel given the limited options available to them. Or even the desperate measures they’re likely to resort to given their realities.

It’s primarily the vitriol and misogynistic context and tone to comment after comment after comment from men directed at women. To me, to women I know and to women I’ll likely never meet. It’s been seemingly constant since the fiasco and farce that was the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh.

And, frankly, I’m just tired of it all. Increasingly, I find that I genuinely do not like many, many, many men. [Thankfully, I married a feminist who gets this and shares my outrage, and call many other woke men friends. I do not dislike, y’all, if that wasn’t obvious already.]

Most of this rant will seem likely to the men feeling secure in their positions and who truly welcome equality with their uterus-possessing friends. We thank, y’all. Seriously. So, help us get this message out, eh?

If you claim to be an ally or want to know how to be one, here’s an idea: Just stop, listen / read our words, try to understand our despair and anger, and ask instead how you can help support the women in your life rather than tell them what they should feel or how they should act. [Mansplaining 101 from a woman’s perspective.]

And, if you feel it’s necessary to make snarky comments to someone you don’t know because of the safety of your keyboard, really? [Mansplaining 101 from a man’s perspective, because this is 2019 and women are still not taken seriously. And, hence, this post and my rage.]

Unless you have lived your entire life since puberty dealing with period shame,

Unless you have held your breath waiting for your period to come because various methods fail on occasion,

Unless you have watched as your idea was shot down or dismissed by someone in authority only to hear a man in the room say literally the same exact thing and be congratulated for their brilliance, 

Unless you have been told stop beingso emotional‘ or ‘overly hormonal’ when you disagree with a man, 

Unless you’ve been told on numerous occasions that you’re being a bitch so it must just be ‘that time of the month‘ [NB: this link is a fucking gem of an example of everything which induces rage in me at the moment in that sort of cumulative sort of way from a lifetime of it],

Unless you have had to wrestle and wiggle your way out of the clutches of *that* dude,

Unless you’ve been genuinely terrified that you won’t be able to wrestle and wiggle away *this* time,

Unless you’ve had to justify what you were wearing, or how flirty you were or weren’t or that no really does means no,

Just stop.

Stop telling me what I should say, what I should do, what I should feel or any other thing I do with my body or my mind. This is my body. This is my mind. And, these are my emotions.

And, I own them. All.

dont-tread-on-me825793

Image credit: Anne Lesniak.

Further reading:

Three books that I think every single person on the planet should read right now: