Nimue Brown's Blog, page 114

Unskilled Labour is an illusion

The idea of unskilled labour is one that is routinely used to make life harder for economically disadvantaged people. The notion is that if you have no skills, there are many jobs you can apply for that aren’t skilled, and that don’t merit much of a wage. If you don’t have a job you are therefore deemed lazy and workshy.

At the start of January, I was job hunting again. When I can work in the kinds of jobs I have considerable experience in, I can earn a decent wage. However, I have done a number of minimum wage jobs along the way. If I can’t find stuff I am well qualified to do, I have to look at whatever I can get. 

There are very few jobs out there that ask for no qualifications and no experience. Many jobs require you to be able to drive and to have a car. When I’m looking for work outside my areas of experience, there’s not much I can apply for, and what I can apply for has everything to do with retail experience and public facing work history. I note that a significant number of low paid jobs require strength and physical fitness, and that we don’t value that much in workers. There may be a lot to be said about the value placed on the bodies of the economically disadvantaged.

Work requires skill and knowledge. Some of the worst paid jobs require heroic levels of patience and considerable stamina. For jobs that pay you to do nothing, as far as I can make out you want to get a high level consultancy gig where no one expects you to do anything, or to get your income from shares and resource ownership rather than by actually working. There are no unskilled jobs. Every employer out there has qualities they require in their employees.

During the pandemic it’s been really obvious that low paid workers were in the front lines doing some of the most important things and shouldering a great deal of the risk.

The idea of the unskilled worker is a convenient illusion. It’s part of the thinking that justifies who gets to be rich and who gets to be poor. The idea that work is low paid because it isn’t important and doesn’t require much of you simply isn’t true. How people are paid has everything to do with power, and very little to do with the true value of their work.

Dealing with disbelief

I made the mistake of starting to suffer from chronic fatigue at a point where it wasn’t reliably being diagnosed. My doctor at the time did not believe it existed, and treated me accordingly – with scorn, suggestions that it was all in my head and the assumption that I just wanted to get out of PE. And yes, I did want to get out of PE because PE was hell, for a whole bunch of other reasons no one knew were issues. Whatever else was going on, my distress never seemed plausible to him.

I had no idea, as a small child, that most people weren’t in pain. Other kids did the things I couldn’t do, and seemed to be ok. I’m not sure why I concluded that they were all just making less of a fuss about it, but that’s child brains for you. I certainly had plenty of encouragement to think I was just making a fuss and not trying hard enough.

Now we know how hypermobility impacts on people, what was happening for me is no great mystery. Everything takes me more effort than is typical. Many things cause me pain. I hurt and damage easily. Taking my weight on my hands really hurts me. Also I have a lot of issues with being upside down, I still hate it, I still find it stressful but as an adult I don’t have to deal with people forcing me into those positions.

At this point I’m fairly confident that I don’t express pain – be that physical or emotional – in a way that makes much sense to a lot of people. My default is to explain, but I tend to be calm. This is to do with my coping mechanisms, and being used to pain. It meant I had a lot of trouble persuading anyone I was in labour, and went a long time with no pain relief as a consequence. It may have coloured all of my interactions with the medical profession. There are a number of people in my history I am fairly sure had a problem with it.

I’ve been told I come across as cold, unfeeling, uncaring. I’ve been told I seem manipulative. I guess if you expect people to present pain in more dramatic ways it might be hard to believe a person who is saying calmly that they’re in more pain than they can bear. Panic can make it impossible for me to present this way, but I’m not always panicked. 

Somewhere along the way I missed all the memos about appropriate expression of feelings. What seems normal to other people doesn’t always make much sense to me. I’ve spent a lot of years trying to figure out what it is that gets some people’s distress taken very seriously, and other people ignored. From what I read, I’m fairly sure privilege is a big part of it. The more advantages you have, the more likely you are to be taken seriously about problems you encounter. White men are more likely to get their abdominal pain taken seriously. Black women die in labour in disproportionate numbers. 

How we expect people to behave is clearly informed by all sorts of things. But it isn’t a fair measure. Ignoring distress because it isn’t being presented the way we expect, or assuming a person will overstate because of who they are, is really problematic, and there’s a lot of it out there. Much of it is far worse than anything I’ve had to deal with, but these are the illustrations I have to work with and I hope they are useful.

Inner worlds – fiction

There are worlds inside you. 

This is the place I think of the most, even though the sun can be punishing. I know the landscape looks barren and unkind, yet there is a stark beauty here I cannot help but love. The story of this place is harsh. Terrible things happened here and we do not speak of that. What excites me is the knowledge that this is not the end of a story, but the place where dreaming begins. 

We are going to regreen this land, you and I. We will make water flow again, through the old channels that barely remember they were once rivers. When we are ready, the trees will spring up here again, and there will be lushness and beauty. 

There are worlds inside you. This world is also inside me. I feel the sand rasping in the wind. I feel the weight of the same sky. I have been burnished rock and endless desert. I remember.

In the end, we must take off this armour. We must lie down in the heat, and become the shade. Where we have merely survived, we must learn to flourish.

(art by Dr Abbey, text mine.)

Talking about poverty

I’ve been in the room when people who were clearly comfortable talked about ‘the poor’ and it was invariably an uncomfortable situation for me. Conversations about ‘the poor’ tend to involve talking about poverty itself as though it is intrinsic to certain people; an unavoidable, natural state, to be bemoaned or to be pitied.

Some of us are economically disadvantaged. There’s no greater indicator for wealth than being born into an affluent family. Some of us are disadvantaged by poor health, neurodiversity, race, gender, sexual identity, learning difficulties, lack of opportunity, exploitation…

That some people live in poverty has a great deal to do with the choices made by everyone else. Poverty should not be considered as solely the responsibility of those who find themselves economically disadvantaged.

As this is an issue I write about a lot, I’m thinking at the moment about how to sharpen up my own language use. I need to change how I talk about being poor and the implications of poverty to make it more explicit that poverty is not something I think most people afflicted by should be held responsible for. I’m going to talk more about being economically disadvantaged, because I think that’s more useful.

For me, being on the bard path means a dedication to really thinking about language. I’m constantly trying to improve. I’m alert to the implications of how we use words and phrases and I’m constantly trying to do a better job of using words – to be more accurate, and to be more just.

Greener winter warmth

The general wisdom is that in cold weather, you should put on a jumper rather than turning up the heating. With energy costs escalating in the UK increasing numbers of people won’t be able to heat their homes. It’s one thing turning the heating down a bit, but living in cold conditions creates health risks.

Some years ago I opted for a dehumidifier. It helps warm the flat, dries the laundry and generally deals with the damp problems we’d otherwise have. It costs less to run than the heaters, and is cheaper than a tumble drier. It’s a fine example of how much easier it is to make lower energy choices, greener choices and money saving choices when you can afford the initial outlay. Poverty is expensive.

How good a choice is the extra jumper? They take a lot of effort to wash. Synthetic fibers dry quickly and are cheap, but they release microplastics into the water. Wool takes some drying, and if you’re short of money for energy, getting a woolen jumper dry is going to be a problem. Also, dry a wool jumper too slowly and it can start to decay, and will probably smell like a wet dog.

I’m quite a fan of thermal underwear in cold weather. It takes less space to store when I’m not using it. If you’re economically disadvantaged, you probably don’t have much space for stuff. Thermals are easy to wash and to dry. There are, again, the issues of synthetics, but there’s at least less synthetic fabric in the equation to begin with. Also, thermals tend to be densely made in a way that means they shed far less material than jumpers do. Not having the bulk about my person is important when I’m working. 

A jumper is only helpful for keeping my upper body warm, but thermal longjohns also warm my legs. I find this really helps when I’m outside, walking for transport. Having the right gear makes getting places on foot a lot more realistic. 

Buying thermal underwear is an investment. It’s not an outlay everyone can afford. Being able to make good economic and/or environmental choices depends on having good options in the first place. 

Being cold is really undermining. It takes it out of you – I’ve been there. Being cold makes it harder to be economically active. It can make it a lot harder to think, or find the energy for anything else. These are not situations you can reliably budget your way out of if you’re starting from a bad place. Being cold makes people ill, and exaserbates illness. We should not be willing to tolerate fuel poverty, nor to tolerate the capitalism that has put so many people needlessly into states of distress.

Nature at Imbolc

Here in the UK, snowdrops are strongly associated with Imbolc. I saw my first flowers a few days ago, where they have emerged through last year’s dead leaves. A perfect visual metaphor for the year turning.

It’s also a time of year when locally, the elf caps tend to appear, and I’ve seen a few of those in recent days.

Spring also means catkins. Some are open now, but some, like these, are not.

Wild Times – a review

This book could have been written with me in mind. It’s my first foray into anything explicitly Hopepunk, this is clearly a genre I need to explore.

There’s magic here that I think will work for many Pagan readers. It’s not a rehash of a Pagan path nor is it heavily based on folklore, although there are a few elements here and there. The familiar stuff plays out in unfamiliar ways. This is a fantasy scenario that overlaps the real world, has elements of urban fantasy, and in many ways reminded me of Charles de Lint. Only, this is set around the south west of England, in landscapes familiar to me, which is wonderful.

I love getting to read stories with bisexual and polyamorous characters. There’s a lot of this, but it isn’t what’s driving the narrative. This is just who people are and how they relate to each other and that makes me very happy.

There’s a lot going on in this story – people and places, action and interaction. There’s also a lot of thinking about how to live, what to do, and all of that centers on cooperation. Philosophically speaking, I felt very at home here. This is a book with a lot to say about community and how we relate to each other.

Werewolves on motorbikes. Old gods who show up as strange children. Revenge. Romance. Pirates. Magical otherworldly beings. Ghastly plots that must be foiled. Sinister government agencies. If you like stories in which magical and extraordinary beings are present in our world, and there are thin places that take you to otherworlds, this is a book for you.

I found the writing engaging and I very much want to go and live in the version of reality this book offers. It’s a big book, which I was glad of, it’s been a welcome escape for me in the last week, and I have taken much joy in it. If it sounds like your sort of thing, then I heartily recommend it.

This isn’t David Bridger’s only book, and I hope to be back for more of his work.

More on the publisher’s website – https://www.beatentrackpublishing.com/?ref=wildtimes

Messages from Dreams

The house I grew up in has always featured heavily in my dreams. In my teens, those dreams tended to involve me trying to escape from the house. Often the dream would end with me jumping out of a window.

In my twenties, having moved out I would dream that I was back in the house. I wouldn’t be able to remember where I now lived, or how to get there. I might escape the house, but then I would just be running, sometimes chased. At that point in my life my dreaming had reduced to a handful of anxiety nightmares. I wasn’t living in a good situation and it took me a long time to admit that, and to get out.

There weren’t so many house dreams in my thirties, and my dreaming became much more diverse and involved. I became as likely to dream about my grandmother’s house as I was about the parental home. The level of menace reduced.

I’m now seeing a new pattern. I am back in my childhood home. I leave of my own free will – not through windows or to run away. I go out through the back garden and into the field beyond. What exactly is beyond the field, varies. In real life there is woodland. Mostly in my dreams there are people, and otherworlds and adventures that have no connection to my childhood or my lived experiences. 

Those house dreams have always had a lot to tell me about myself. I didn’t always want to listen to what they had to say. The dream dictionary I had as a child said that when you dream about houses you are dreaming about yourself. I detest dream dictionaries. That house isn’t me. That house is about my past, my childhood, my sense of belonging. I haven’t found a house that could be me, although sometimes in dreams I go house hunting, and that feels like a really hopeful thing to be doing.

Some years ago I wrote a whole book about dreams and dream interpretation – you can find that over here – https://www.johnhuntpublishing.com/moon-books/our-books/pagan-dreaming

Winter Druidry

While I try to get outside when I can, winter isn’t a good time for me. I don’t handle slippery surfaces well – mud or ice – and the cold makes me hurt more. It’s not a good time of year for doing outdoors rituals, I can’t sit out. This can make me feel distanced from my path, so it’s useful to review the things I can do in winter.

It’s a good time to read, study, explore ideas and develop skills. I’ve done a lot to develop my writing craft this winter, and I’m learning about different cultures and the different ways in which people use language.

Online activism is always an option. I’ve not been doing so well with that lately.

Thanks to the internet, the winter can be spent plotting and planning. I am doing less in-person community, but I’m making plans for future activities. I’m developing some online ideas that I hope will cheer people. I’ve been talking to my local wassail folk with a view to getting more involved. I’m also exploring some creative collaboration.

While I’ve not written much blog content explicitly about Druidry in the last few months, I could do more of that and I might feel better for it. I have been working on a book for the Earth Spirit line at Moon Books which is about authenticity and sustainability, so that’s been where a lot of my more Druidic work has been happening.

I’m doing a lot of work on my own head. This is about knowing myself, and also about healing. I think I can count this as Druidic work. At the same time I’m learning a lot about how other people interact with the world, which hopefully will help me to be a more understanding and compassionate sort of person.

One of the things meeting up with other Druids always gave me was a chance to affirm my own Druid-ness. So, if you want to jump into the comments and talk about what you’re doing, as a Druid, or in any other way that is important to you, I’m delighted to offer that space. Being off on your own too much can make it harder to see what’s going on in your life. Check ins can be really good for thinking about how things are for you.

Not seeking calm

There are times when being calm is good – most especially when trying to go to sleep! Otherwise, I find it a state of questionable value. It has some value around meditation, but it’s not a very meaningful state to be in.

I find I am generally at my most calm when I’m depressed. It’s a state of disinterest, and unfeeling response to the living world around me. It’s not a state of wanting to move towards anything, nor one of wanting to let anything in. I see a lot of content online preaching about the desirability of calm, and I find I disagree.

There are states of being that I want to cultivate in myself. These are ways of being in the world that enrich my life and that open me to good things. Existing in a state of gentle curiosity is good. That opens me to experiences, to the alternative perspectives of other people and to investing care and attention in whatever is around me. 

I find it helps to cultivate a state of openness-to-joy. That’s not a toxic positivity that denies a whole array of feelings and experiences. It’s about being open to the small joys and beauties that can be overlooked if I’m not careful. Actively seeking that kind of joy definitely helps.

I’m also trying to cultivate compassion and tenderness. This will make me open to pain and distress whenever I encounter suffering. I do not want to ignore the distress and suffering of other beings, and I want to meet that with the best I can bring. A tender state means I will experience pain, but I can respond to it in useful ways.

I think part of the problem here is that we’re being offered a binary – stress or calm. The idea that being calm is the right response to everything only makes sense when that state is set up in opposition to stress. Calm isn’t the only state you can start from. A gentle, open, engaged response to the world can be full of feeling, it can bubble with the potential for excitement, and delight, and at the same time be open to facing the difficult things.