whiteness of the melting snow

____________________

        and we?
               until next christmas?
                     holidays?
                     till monday?
                     tomorrow...

tomek kowalski^[1] (2005)

Alone during my lifetime, the world I know have changed a lot and will soon change even more – to the point of unrecognisable. Current analyses suggest that the IPCC’s 2018 devastating report on climate crisis was, in fact, too optimistic; according to these prognoses, the year 2050 will mark the begin of global spiral into chaos that is likely to end humanity in a wink. It’s not a matter of maybe anymore: we will face numerous cataclysms and further destruction of ecosystems; wildfires, earthquakes, floods, and heatwaves ready to kill will soon be the new normal. Indeed, it is happening already – just check your news. Whether we realize it or not, we stand at the beginning of the final revelation of slow violence.^[2]

[1] tomek is not a famous poet, but my friend, that happens to write amazing poetry. Our conversations inspired this essay greatly, for which I am very thankful. The original poems are in Polish, we collaborated on the translations to English.
Find tomek at wegdeskindes.blog

[2] Rob Nixon, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor.

And this is why it’s so hard for me to write an essay on the year 2050: because being able to imagine a livable world in 2050 would mean I still insist on pretending to have hope and that I am not crushed under the weight of alarmingly apocalyptic climate reports and future visions of the inhabitable planet. Truth be told, I’m with Paul Kingsnorth on that “whenever I hear the word ‘hope’ these days, I reach for my whisky bottle”. I do too.^[3] I get insufferably decadent, with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other – not believing that the civilization will survive long enough to see me getting a lung cancer.

[3] Well, I don’t drink whisky; but you get the idea.

There is no need for despair in abandoning high hopes – the only thing it requires is a change of perspective. We didn’t panic with the first signs of bees disappearing; we did not shed a tear over polar bears dying of hunger either. The pattern, resembling the famous words of Martin Niemöller,^[4] is an answer to the question why we call our times Anthropocene: we didn’t care about climate crisis until it had occurred to us that what follows is a total destruction of our own species. Now that we do care (well, at least some of us do), it might already be too late for redemption.

In some ways, however, I think we are missing the point here. The planet will be fine, eventually – and this is what lets me sleep at night despite the existential anxiety about my own tomorrow. The existence is, in fact, eternal.^[5] Ecosystems, when freed of the causes of destruction and degeneration, will recover and build new thriving cycles of life and death: assuming otherwise is like believing that the world stops existing when we close our eyes.

We have to deal with our own unimportance. We must, with all honesty, imagine the end of us and go beyond the desperation to the point where there is no losing, no winning, and no hope:^[6] that is, to a point of ultimate acceptance. It is the coming to terms with losing everything that puts us in a position to be honest about ourselves, our situation, our perspectives; a position from which we can truly act without fear or ambition. Only a candid embrace of reality holds a potential to let go of our survival obsession that makes us small and think clearly about what to do with the time we still have left.

[4] “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – Because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – Because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.”

[5] I must give Alan Watts credit for this point.

[6] I dare to refer to the wisdom of Buddhist Heart Sutra here. I do not claim to understand it. But it helps me get by anyway. If you’re up for it… Karl Brunnhölzl ‘The Heart Sutra Will Change You Forever’.

[…]
Sometimes we cry
forgetting that it is
as
it should be...

Suspended
- being the silence,
at least for a moment –
we have home everywhere...

And nowhere...

/tomek kowalski (2002)

Talking to various knowledgeable people (and reading a bunch more) left me convinced that we do not have enough time and tangible enough strategy to change the system and stop the crisis in its tracks.^[7] We can put our hands to work trying to build alternatives we consider palpable and hopeful, but in the end, nobody can tell what the world in 2050 will look like. Every alternative is met with resistance, not because of its (lack of) merits, but simply because “it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism”.^[8] We can dream about de-grown, eco-social economies lived through local, truly democratic and resilient communities; these are worthy dreams that should not be forgotten. There are people among us and around the world already building crucial focal points of prefiguration of these dreams; they should be given all the help and support in nourishing the seeds of a different society.^[9]

[7] If you know something I don’t, let me know. Seriously.

[8] Mark Fisher, Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative?

[9] To mention a few: Zapatistas community in Chiapas, Rojava region in Syria, Kerala region in India, Eco Villages all around the world, solidarity- and commons-based economy and agriculture, indigenous Andean Buen Vivir… No matter what, these stories need to be told: for if there is a future in human history, we will absolutely need all those emergent strategies see also e.g. adrienne maree brown, Emergent Strategy. Shaping Change, Changing Worlds.

That is why it is imperative for our activism to be rooted in spirituality: because facing ourselves and the upcoming storm with radical honesty and compassionate heart will be the biggest challenge of our lives. We need to become warriors, in the Tibetan sense of the word pawo: “the one who is brave”.^[10] Brave enough to not try to live up to the world we want to be but live down to the one we have. Face the truth. Become that grain of sand.

Because

[10] Chögyam Trungpa, Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

For me, this comes before any attempt to save the world. Without honesty, we are just floating in our illusions. Truthfully, we can start from our inherent goodness to build strong communities, ready for the challenges of tomorrow. “A warrior knows that he is waiting and what he is waiting for; and while he waits, he wants nothing and thus whatever little thing he gets is more than he can take”.^[11] Thankful. Not hopeful.

[11] He or she. Or them.
Carlos Castaneda, A Separate Reality. Further Conversations with Don Juan.

Forget hope. Let’s put our hands together to rebel against the oppression, exploitation, and destruction, let’s be rebellious on every step of our daily life. Let’s organise. Build communities. Build movements. All without forgetting: we are going to die.^[12]

Isaac Yuen, in response to Jensen radical stance on hope, writes: “in the end, I find myself unable to fully embrace his argument. His standards are too high, his stance too certain. I am not strong enough, not brave enough, and perhaps most importantly, not honest enough to reject hope in all its forms.”

[12] So much amazing things happen collectively as we speak… So many wonderful ideas. I’m actually in awe about that; to the point that I’m going to reference a book here that in its title alone goes against this essay – but I basically think it’s semantics and it doesn’t matter. I’m sure Joanna Macy would understand. So make sure to reach at some point for “Active Hope” – Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone, Active Hope. How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy.

I lost the key to
my
house and suddenly the world
became my home
like it’s home to all life

in one body and one soul
a friend grows with me

and my enemies are my friends
not knowing I take them for my teachers

the same sun that’s inside me
illuminates the whole earth
tears of rain revive life
with an open flesh of the heart
I throb the same rhythm as
Everything

/ tomek kowalski (2018)