On Being Kind
‘‘Give me one more night to taste the dark
When wolves imitate a lone dog’s bark
Let those secrets remain unspoken
Fallen angel’s heart now lover’s token
Light grows dim burying riddle’s death
Just breathe to free your one last breathe.’’
~ Munia Khan
The sky lightens in the east. On these mornings when the sky is a mass of clouds, the light begins first as a brightening, the sun finding its way through the gaps in the clouds. In these places the pale sunlight shines through. On mornings like these, the sky is a masterpiece. The play of light through the clouds. The pale sunlight and the diminishing darkness.
Birds sing unseen. I can hear the call of the blackbird as usual for there are at least two mating pairs in the garden. Their song is sharp and clear like a bell. The warble of finches can also be heard and of course the chatter of the sparrows in the tangle of ivy. There are other songs too but those I cannot identify by sound alone. Like the brightening sky, the dawn chorus grows each day until it reaches its crescendo later on, peaking in late spring and into the early summer.
As I await my ride into work, I close my eyes and breathe deeply, imagining how easy it would be to just hide myself away from the world of man and stay in this, what feels like the real world, the one that makes sense. But alas, the moment must come to an end and I must head out to work, into the world of mindless chatter, gossip, of money and bills and all of the other worries and vexations that come with this life. But still, even in the most stressful moments I can close my eyes and breathe deeply, remembering the scent of the early morning garden, the feel of it. More and more I find myself doing this for the world most think of as the real world is dull and lacking, full of hypocrisy that heavies the heart and deadens the soul.
The news in the UK for the past couple of weeks, corona virus aside, have been mostly dominated by the death by suicide of a TV celebrity, presenter of the television show ‘Love Island’. She took her own life after a shit storm of a media circus after allegedly attacking her partner and was due to face trial. Now I’m not going to get into a moral and ethical debate surrounding the circumstances of her death or the attack on her partner, you can easily find such if it interests you. However this situation is one of those that spurs reactionary, knee jerk responses on social media. You know the sort. In this instance its #be kind, or the most annoying chain letter like ‘fixing each others crowns’. Miserable cow, you may well be thinking, but let’s delve a little deeper into such trends. What do they really achieve other then the assuaging of the conscience, if only temporarily?
I see nothing but hypocrisy of such social media campaigns.
The people sharing and tagging them are the same people who also share things about refugees, about the poor, about the homeless, about the bottom of society, about council estate kids, single mothers, etc, so on and so forth. #be kind, but only if your face fits, or you fit the societal norms, eh? Be kind to immigrants, the poor or anyone else who doesn’t fit, well, that’s a different story.
The big boxing fight has also been trending in the UK this week too, with the gypsy king, Tyson Fury, a national hero, reigning supreme in the boxing world (I love fighting of any kind. I’m not a purist but enjoy many different disciplines, knowing full well the guts it takes to step inside the ring, to put yourself in the fighting mindset, and beside, a good fight is a good fight regardless). And his journey has been one that’s captivated the nation, making such a comeback, fighting his demons of mental health and addiction, from contemplating suicide to turning his life back around. Such a story has caused so many people to share posts and memes about his epic journey. But how many of those same people will call a traveller a pikey or a gypo? Where’s their outrage at the proposed changes to the ‘right to roam’ laws that will seriously affect the traveller community but is also another curbing of all of our freedoms?
Do not think I write this to shame individuals. I do not. But this life we find ourselves living has us convinced we are not powerful, that the only way we can make a difference is by social media ‘activism’. What better way to show we care by the sharing of a meme, hashtag or post? One click and that’s it, jobs a good one. I get it. Who has the time and energy to get out and do anything in the real world? To affect real change? It’s difficult when you are trying to keep your own head above water, I mean how can you possibly carry the weight of others and still keep treading water?
Instead I write this to remind us, to remind myself, that being kind also means smashing those things and institutions that oppress. Being kind also means destroying those who would turn us against one another so that peoples who are more alike than not are divided. Being kind, fixing crowns, whatever, means stepping away from the validation of social media. Being kind also extends to the environment, to nature. To the wild. Being kind demands action and unification. Being kind is absolutely the little things, of checking up on friends and neighbours, of offering words of support and encouragement, but it’s also the bigger things too. Again, it’s easy to see why people share their posts on social media, and again, this is indeed no attack on individuals who themselves are struggling to survive in this world of man. It’s why I feel like closing my eyes and listening to the birdsong of an early morn in the half light of dawn.
But if we want change, we must graft for it. Being kind also means reacting with violence towards those systems that oppress.
‘‘What is gone is gone and will not come back. When the earth swallows, it swallows forever and we are left to stumble along feeling the absences. These are our burdens.’’
~ Nadia Hashimi, When the Moon is Low.
EMMA KATHRYN
My name is Emma Kathryn, my path is a mixture of traditional European witchcraft, vodou and obeah, a mixture representing my heritage. I live in the sticks with my family where I read tarot, practice witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
You can follow Emma on Facebook.