So the first blackout event is coming up this Sunday, and I want to talk a little more about it.
See, I picture us starting with this one small action. An hour without electricity and modern devices.
An hour reserved for diconnecting from phones, computers, cars, lights, ovens, TV’s, radios etc., etc.
An hour devoted to reconnecting to ourselves, each other, and the natural world.
And I figure that it’s two-fold, right?
On one hand we starve the beast. We shut off the electricity ON PURPOSE, just because we can, because we want to. And on the other hand, we get rid of the distractions, finally allow ourselves some time to sit and BREATHE.
We’re not going to sit in darkness, and candlelight, and firelight, and think and be quiet, and tell stories with our friends, and sing, and play guitar, because there’s a power outage, and we need to pass the time until the lights come back on.
No. We’re going to write poems, and laugh with our children, and look at the stars, and listen to the night sounds,and cry, and think our thoughts, and feel our feelings,
We NEED to see that we do not NEED what the corporations have to offer us.
We need to see that we do not need their phones, and computers, and microwaves, and video games, and TV’s, and lights, and
And YES, we are starting slow, with a small group of people, and our blackout is only an hour long, and afterwards we’ll turn the lights back on and go about our business.
But what if the next blackout event is TWO hours? Two glorious hours of wandering in the woods, eating dinner over the fire with friends, sitting silently, napping, or reading? And HUNDREDS of people participate?
And then, just think, if the blackout after that was three hours? Three hours of no phones, no TV’s, no video games, no computers, no stoves, no dishwashers.
Three amazing hours of gardening, of mushroom hunting, of talking, of singing, of dancing, of loving. And what if THOUSANDS of people participated?
And all the while we’re learning, studying furiously, sharing information, teaching classes. About subjects large and small.
How to cook over an open fire, how to make a rocket stove, how to insulate and heat our homes without fossil fuels, sewing, knitting, yurt building, skinning, how to make wood gas, how to make solar panels, tanning leather, wild plant identification, which plants to use as medicine, how to make a bow and arrow, how to purify water, how to make paper, how to write, how to read, how to play the guitar, the bass, the flute, how to drum, how to make a drum, how to use cloth diapers, how to garden, how to grow potatoes, how to grow chickens and on, and on.
So that one day, at some point in the distance, we can plan a blackout that is not just one hour,
But one DAY.
One whole day without electricity, without TV, without phones, computers, lights.
One whole day listening to the birds and the crickets and your loved one’s voice. One whole day of cooking, eating, and playing outside. One whole day of rising with the sun, and sleeping with the moon.
Or what about a blackout that was One whole month?
Or One year?
And what if MILLIONS of people participated?
What if one day, we look at each other, gathered around a campfire, sharing food and drink, with the little ones running around, and the owls hooting nearby, and say, “I don’t think we NEED that stuff anymore, those phones, those computers, those lights. We’ve got everything we need right here.”
Well, I think that would send our message loud and clear. To the electricity companies, to the corporations, to the governments, to the world.
WE DON’T NEED YOU.
I think that’s how you starve a beast like the culture of destruction.
It’s a powerful statement to say that we know how to survive in an emergency.
But it’s an even more powerful statement to say that we’re walking away.
Because we can.
Turn off the lights.
Join the blackout.
Thank you for listening,
******October 27th, 7-8 pm, location: everywhere**************
“ A 1 hour blackout, in mourning, in solidarity, in rebellion”
On Sunday October 27th, from 7-8pm, we invite you to shut off all of the lights in your house, and around your property.
Turn off and unplug your TV’s, your computers, your phones, your major appliances, and anything else with a cord and a power button. Refrain from using anything that requires electricity.
During this hour go outside if you can. Or stay inside. Sit around a fire if you can, or around a candle, or in complete darkness. Gather with loved ones and friends if you can, or just be alone.
Sing, tell stories, laugh, cry. Mourn for your personal losses and our collective ones. Wear black if you want; or don’t. Talk about who and what you stand in solidarity with and why. Pray. Praise. Sit in silence, or scream at the top of your lungs. Dance, hug one another. Lay on the ground and look at the stars. Play games with your children, listen to their stories.Wail.
Do what feels right, follow your instincts.
Let the emotions wash over you. Do not be afraid of them.
We need to know who we are with the lights off.
We need to know what we do without distractions.
We need to see what happens when we join together.
Invite your friends,
Share, and Share, and Share again.