apocaLICpse
ApocaLICpse.
Exploring Land in Curiosity's part in apocalypse.
These last months I have been listening to the podcast "How to survive the end of the world" by adrienne maree brown and Autumn Brown, two sisters and science fiction writers (among the many incredible things they bring to this world). The podcast is about: learning from the apocalypse with grace, rigor and curiosity.
I have never really thought about apocalypse, i have felt like my world has ended before but i never framed it like an apocalypse.
Apocalypse comes from the Greek word apokalyptein and translates; uncover, disclose, reveal. In the Cambridge dictionary it is defined as "a very serious event resulting in great destruction and change."
To my mind it brings images of devastation and fires and zombies and floods and guns and looting.


So I have been thinking, continuously inspired and challenged by the Brown sisters to think, and in this case, to think specifically about the end of the world, and what that could look like if it didn't look like the picture above.
Autumn and adrienne talk a lot about skills and practices that inform and enable survival, how tragedy tends to bring people together rather than pull them apart and against each other (until the state steps back in that is).
I've been thinking about Land in Curiosity and apocalypse: What will our role be in the coming (and already happening in many places in the world) apocalypse? I am pretty certain now, there are many more to come. We are facing such an extreme global ecological crisis and a mass extinction.
I've been thinking about "survival skills" (Bear Grylls style), how different that feels to what LiC is all about. We are learning not just practical skills, but skills that bring us together, that build trust and community and grow deep respect and acknowledge the inherent interconnection we have with the natural world and our fellow species who also (are struggling to) inhabit this earth.
I've been thinking about what it means to live wild for a year:
to establish a nomadic community,
to sleep under the stars, the clouds, under simple structures,
to carry everything we need,
to cook on fires made with wood collected from the forest floor,
to learn to identify, responsibly harvest and prepare wild food,
to be constantly on the move, moving, walking,
to be meeting change consciously, daily, as a norm,
to engage with and be inspired by those we meet,
to be deeply affected by the land, by animals, plants, trees,
to build deeply interconnected relationships with our fellow travelers,
to sing together, to be woken by song each morning,
to swim and wash together, naked bodies belonging,
to create our own learning pathways,
to follow our inspirations, our flame, our passion,
to grow our capacity for honesty, accountability, conflict, care, community,
to learn what we want to learn, what we love, away from institutions,
to sleep through frozen nights, together warm and snuggled.

I've been thinking: all of this is apocalypse survival, we are learning to thrive in conditions that we may have to start considering everyday, that right now many of us don't have to think about.
I am grateful for this re-frame, for the apocalyptic voices of the Brown sisters, my view is twisting from one of zombies and guns to one of opportunity, abundance and collaboration. My view is twisting from the Cambridge definition of apocalyptic disaster, to root of the word: uncovering, revealing.
I feel resilient learning and growing with LiC, I feel I am growing skills for life whether apocalypse comes or not.
And who knows... we might have to keep walking forever.
