Just wanted to let you know that reading your book ‘Confessions of a recovering environmentalist’ at the end of 2021 helped to take me into a new year with a different spirit. Not necessarily joyful but definitely more accepting of what is and how all we can do is continue what we are doing. It is so hard not to become cynical but being in our garden always heals that feeling. Connecting with nice guests also does. Seeing how our kids navigate this world, trusting their own ingenuity and that of their friends is all that counts.
I’m signing up today for a year as I'm expecting I will be needing regular reminders from you too :)
Thank you so much for your beautiful poem Paul, the last verse brought tears to my eyes. I'm old now and almost resigned to never coming home, sitting by a 'shaded pool under a walnut tree'. My hope is that you, your generation and your children, will live to see a sane world. It gives me solace to know humans like you are out there, may God bless you and yours always. I will carry on tending my garden and picking fern shoots (fronds) because they are an age-old remedy for rheumatic complaints and really soothe the aches of stress, damp and cold.
Many thanks Paul, for offering something more thoughtful and profound as a counter to the daily diet of incendiary news and commentary. Perhaps it's through the prism of my thoughts on war and Russia and nostalgia that I read your poem, but there seems something essentially Russian about it. I didn't really understand the idea of "mother Russia" until going there and feeling how it was to look down and around at Europe and Asia with ones back against the great expanse of forest and tundra, and 1000 years of history.
And with the current excision of Russia from Western post-civilisation come also the thoughts of forced translocation and dispossession. How much longer can we exist as mere needles in a haystack? Perhaps it's just as bad in the UK or Ireland, but those of us who are both COVID-sceptics and Russia admirers are now freaks and outcasts here in Australia.
Paul and everyone- Thank you for this discussion. It has and does mean a lot to me. It has truly widened and deepened what passes for *my* thinking. Happy Abbey Anniversary! -Jack aka The Suburban Desert Hermit. P.S. Next year in Connemara!
Every penny is worth it, Paul. I'm looking forward to the final installments when you present to us the answers as to how to limit the Machine's pernicious effects moving forward. If it involves communes in Western Ireland, then I'm in!
Thank you Paul Kingsnorth for your gifts today and for your work, which I always look forward to reading. I feel a sense of camaraderie with you and others here that I read and I find it helpful in carrying on. I say to myself, ok, I’m really not going crazy!
I’m not one to really participate much in the wider world of technology. I have never had a cell phone, for instance, and now, more than ever, am determined not to have one. I also don’t subscribe to anything really, although many years ago I did make sure to pick up a copy of Mother Earth magazine once a month. A friend sent me a gift subscription to your news letter when you were writing the series on The Vaccine Moment. After reading the first essay I subscribed for the year! Probably more of a shock to me than it was to you :) I thank you for working out this difficult time publicly and eloquently. We are so often unaware of the need for community and I would say that in these times many people have found themselves in the sad place of no longer knowing who their friends are or who to trust. It’s a comfort for many here to know we are not alone. Many blessings to you Paul. I’m sure this part of your journey hasn’t been an easy one.
All right, you have coaxed me back. I left because I hate looking at a screen, and it didn't help that the comments were always so good I felt I had to read them all too. But I've missed you greatly, so here I am. Happy Anniversary!
Your poem is a powerful protest against being ruled by fools. The fools who say in their heart, "There is no God." Surely, if that statement is true, there is no comfort to be found, and we are alone, without a home, dying of thirst far more quickly than of hunger.
I read the poem after I made my first comment this morning. I read the older one too. Nothing changes does it? War is so terrible. Its not what were meant for. It hurts the soul. I could feel the sorrow of the soldiers and the longing for home and for peace. The war in Ukraine is beyond my comprehension. But I feel sorrow in my heart for all the people. And I pray for them and us.
It’s as if we are all now gathered in the garden of Gethsemane, Yeshua too, each with our own life experience of deepest grief and fear. We are gathered not to flee or fight but to, in our grief, open our hearts for some divine purpose we don’t need to understand. Sometimes I think this is what we are here for: to transmute this grief and our myriad experiences of love into a sort of second coming, a service of the most divine nature, regardless of the depth and breadth of each individual’s ability to contribute. Each contribution in this time of sorrow is vital and equally loved by God. We all matter.
Congratulation Paul! I'm very greatful to have found your writing here on substack. It's been a comfort and an inspiration.
Just wanted to let you know that reading your book ‘Confessions of a recovering environmentalist’ at the end of 2021 helped to take me into a new year with a different spirit. Not necessarily joyful but definitely more accepting of what is and how all we can do is continue what we are doing. It is so hard not to become cynical but being in our garden always heals that feeling. Connecting with nice guests also does. Seeing how our kids navigate this world, trusting their own ingenuity and that of their friends is all that counts.
I’m signing up today for a year as I'm expecting I will be needing regular reminders from you too :)
Thank you so much for your beautiful poem Paul, the last verse brought tears to my eyes. I'm old now and almost resigned to never coming home, sitting by a 'shaded pool under a walnut tree'. My hope is that you, your generation and your children, will live to see a sane world. It gives me solace to know humans like you are out there, may God bless you and yours always. I will carry on tending my garden and picking fern shoots (fronds) because they are an age-old remedy for rheumatic complaints and really soothe the aches of stress, damp and cold.
Many thanks Paul, for offering something more thoughtful and profound as a counter to the daily diet of incendiary news and commentary. Perhaps it's through the prism of my thoughts on war and Russia and nostalgia that I read your poem, but there seems something essentially Russian about it. I didn't really understand the idea of "mother Russia" until going there and feeling how it was to look down and around at Europe and Asia with ones back against the great expanse of forest and tundra, and 1000 years of history.
And with the current excision of Russia from Western post-civilisation come also the thoughts of forced translocation and dispossession. How much longer can we exist as mere needles in a haystack? Perhaps it's just as bad in the UK or Ireland, but those of us who are both COVID-sceptics and Russia admirers are now freaks and outcasts here in Australia.
Paul, May the chorus sing brightly in the Abbey for years to come. Best,
Paul and everyone- Thank you for this discussion. It has and does mean a lot to me. It has truly widened and deepened what passes for *my* thinking. Happy Abbey Anniversary! -Jack aka The Suburban Desert Hermit. P.S. Next year in Connemara!
Thank you for a year of thought-provoking essays. Your analyses have helped me make sense of the chaotic world in which I find myself.
Every penny is worth it, Paul. I'm looking forward to the final installments when you present to us the answers as to how to limit the Machine's pernicious effects moving forward. If it involves communes in Western Ireland, then I'm in!
Thank you Paul Kingsnorth for your gifts today and for your work, which I always look forward to reading. I feel a sense of camaraderie with you and others here that I read and I find it helpful in carrying on. I say to myself, ok, I’m really not going crazy!
I’m not one to really participate much in the wider world of technology. I have never had a cell phone, for instance, and now, more than ever, am determined not to have one. I also don’t subscribe to anything really, although many years ago I did make sure to pick up a copy of Mother Earth magazine once a month. A friend sent me a gift subscription to your news letter when you were writing the series on The Vaccine Moment. After reading the first essay I subscribed for the year! Probably more of a shock to me than it was to you :) I thank you for working out this difficult time publicly and eloquently. We are so often unaware of the need for community and I would say that in these times many people have found themselves in the sad place of no longer knowing who their friends are or who to trust. It’s a comfort for many here to know we are not alone. Many blessings to you Paul. I’m sure this part of your journey hasn’t been an easy one.
All right, you have coaxed me back. I left because I hate looking at a screen, and it didn't help that the comments were always so good I felt I had to read them all too. But I've missed you greatly, so here I am. Happy Anniversary!
Your poem is a powerful protest against being ruled by fools. The fools who say in their heart, "There is no God." Surely, if that statement is true, there is no comfort to be found, and we are alone, without a home, dying of thirst far more quickly than of hunger.
I read the poem after I made my first comment this morning. I read the older one too. Nothing changes does it? War is so terrible. Its not what were meant for. It hurts the soul. I could feel the sorrow of the soldiers and the longing for home and for peace. The war in Ukraine is beyond my comprehension. But I feel sorrow in my heart for all the people. And I pray for them and us.
Happy birthday!
Congratulations Paul! Thank you for keeping this old lady illumined! May God continue to bless you throughout your endeavors!
Grateful for you.
It’s as if we are all now gathered in the garden of Gethsemane, Yeshua too, each with our own life experience of deepest grief and fear. We are gathered not to flee or fight but to, in our grief, open our hearts for some divine purpose we don’t need to understand. Sometimes I think this is what we are here for: to transmute this grief and our myriad experiences of love into a sort of second coming, a service of the most divine nature, regardless of the depth and breadth of each individual’s ability to contribute. Each contribution in this time of sorrow is vital and equally loved by God. We all matter.