Nimue Brown's Blog, page 77

Being an anomaly

On the 4th of February, The Eldritch Broadcasting Corporation ran an online event called Anomaly. The whole thing has been divided into segments, which you can watch on Youtube – https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLgL8NSDkxNIrw-_OZ4vL4mG61BG9MWjgZ 

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the one in the octopus hat, and the thumbnail on the video is my band – The Ominous Folk of Hopeless, Maine.

The segment above is all Hopeless, Maine stuff (massive, sprawling project taking many forms). Those of you who have been following the development of the Annamarie Nightshade song will particularly enjoy this because Keith Errington – the songwriter – is actually performing his song as part of this video. 

We’re looking at getting Nightshade onto the Ominous Folk album, and the conclusion we’ve all come to is that it would make far more sense to have Keith sing it, with the guitar. We also need to record the Hopeless anthem that features in this section.

I do this to people, often deliberately. Susie (far right in the video above) joined a mumming side some years ago in all innocence and I’ve been luring her into increasing numbers of outlandish things ever since. Keith started out writing small, amusing things for the Hopeless, Maine blog and for performance at events, and now… well… we’ve happened to him.

The event as a whole includes a few people I’ve happened to. Last year for the online festival, Pauline Pitchford read something of mine. This year she’s reading something of her own. Last year, James Weaslgrease read something of mine and he too has written his own contribution for this event. This is something I’m particularly dedicated to – opening up spaces where people can have a go, and where there is room to stretch and try things. I love spaces where people who have found their feet then start lifting and supporting other people. Life is so much better when we get rid of the gatekeepers and start holding doors open for each other.

The promise of spring

This photo shows an oak tree standing in an open field. If you look at it carefully, you can see that there’s a fattening at the tips of the twigs, and a touch of brown at the edges of the tree.

These are the emerging buds for this year’s leaves. 

It can be more obvious when you see it happening in a woodland – this sudden fattening and browning that comes before the unfurling of new green leaves. That unfurling itself may be quite some time away – oaks in particular can be very late leafing. However, in the brown buds is the promise for the year ahead, and I always find that cheering to see.

It’s still very cold where I live (this tree is further north than I am.) It doesn’t really feel like spring yet, but the snowdrops are up, and the promise of spring is certainly there to be seen.

With thanks to Keith Errington for letting me use his tree photo.

Then they fired the writers

It comes as no shock to me to learn that people who used to be paid to write content are now being replaced with AIs. I know people whose working lives are already being affected by this. No doubt there’s more of it to come.

I’m not personally likely to be much affected because the people who like what I do aren’t looking for cheaper alternatives. My weird imagination, my odd humour and my inclination to write things that don’t fit expected story shapes are not things an AI can replace. All our current AIs can do is cobble together pastiches of existing material – they aren’t really creating and they aren’t really intelligent, although that could eventually change. People who want to consume material from predictable franchises maybe won’t suffer much if the humans are replaced with machines. 

Writing AIs aren’t accurate. They can sound plausible and persuasive, but we’re already seeing in Pagan circles that they can’t quality-assess the information they take in. Uncritically pulling together content from any and all sources is going to cause issues for humans in all kinds of ways. After years of struggling with propaganda, fake news, misinformation and conspiracy theories we’re unleashing a technology that can’t think critically about these things and has no morals. If writing AIs are designed to encourage anything, it will be getting hits and generating revenue. We can’t expect them to be truthful or responsible.

This in turn raises a lot of questions about how any of us might source information in the future. Questions of trust and value will be part of this. There’s scope for deepening cultural divides – if on one hand there are people willing to uncritically consume whatever is cheap and easily available. I suspect the kind of content I want will not be replaced by writing AIs, but it may be a lot harder for human creators to keep going when machines will be so much cheaper and able to churn out any number of words day and night.

I suspect there are serious choices ahead of us all about the kind of world we want to live in and whether we are willing, or able, to pay for things made by people rather than having cheap rehashes made by machines.

Then they came for the writers

It comes as no shock to me to learn that people who used to be paid to write content are now being replaced with AIs. I know people whose working lives are already being affected by this. No doubt there’s more of it to come.

I’m not personally likely to be much affected because the people who like what I do aren’t looking for cheaper alternatives. My weird imagination, my odd humour and my inclination to write things that don’t fit expected story shapes are not things an AI can replace. All our current AIs can do is cobble together pastiches of existing material – they aren’t really creating and they aren’t really intelligent, although that could eventually change. People who want to consume material from predictable franchises maybe won’t suffer much if the humans are replaced with machines. 

Writing AIs aren’t accurate. They can sound plausible and persuasive, but we’re already seeing in Pagan circles that they can’t quality-assess the information they take in. Uncritically pulling together content from any and all sources is going to cause issues for humans in all kinds of ways. After years of struggling with propaganda, fake news, misinformation and conspiracy theories we’re unleashing a technology that can’t think critically about these things and has no morals. If writing AIs are designed to encourage anything, it will be getting hits and generating revenue. We can’t expect them to be truthful or responsible.

This in turn raises a lot of questions about how any of us might source information in the future. Questions of trust and value will be part of this. There’s scope for deepening cultural divides – if on one hand there are people willing to uncritically consume whatever is cheap and easily available. I suspect the kind of content I want will not be replaced by writing AIs, but it may be a lot harder for human creators to keep going when machines will be so much cheaper and able to churn out any number of words day and night.

I suspect there are serious choices ahead of us all about the kind of world we want to live in and whether we are willing, or able, to pay for things made by people rather than having cheap rehashes made by machines.

From the fainting couch

Compared to how much time I spend being bodily ill, I don’t write about it very much. Partly that’s because I am so very bored with the whole experience. Partly because it’s complicated in all kinds of ways and I’m not looking for advice.

One of the things I learned fairly early on in life is that if you are ill in a way people understand, they will help you. If you are ill in a way that is not understood, then you might not get any help. You might be told off for making a fuss, being lazy, trying to get out of PE and suchlike. Never mind that I had to give up dancing classes, I was told it was all in my head and that there was nothing really wrong with me. That wasn’t true, but it stopped me taking myself seriously for a long time and I learned to push through things and not make a fuss. A lot of people go through similar experiences, so I increasingly feel that it is important to talk about this stuff.

At this point in my life I know that hypermobile bodies are expensive to run and easy to hurt and damage. Low blood pressure, grumpy lymphs and heart palpitations all go with the territory. What I suffered with as a young human all makes a lot of sense now. It is easier to bear as an adult, knowing why I get so tired so easily and why so much of me is wonky.

I’ve thought about getting a diagnosis. Given that all of my joints are hypermobile, in theory it shouldn’t be hard, but I know from other people that unless you get lucky and find a GP who knows all of this stuff, it’s a bit of a slog. Many GPs are not open to people turning up with any kind of self diagnosis, that often makes the process harder, not easier. I’m not sure there’s much to be gained. There’s no treatment available for crappy structural collagen anyway, so it would be a lot of effort to go to in order to have to manage it by myself anyway. 

I’ve spent the last few years struggling with low blood pressure. Complicating factors include preposterous periods – there aren’t many options for dealing with those, but I am looking at them. There’s not much good information online about managing low blood pressure. Things like ‘don’t stand up too quickly’ are typical. To manage it, I have to be careful about what I eat and drink, alert to the peri-menpausal night sweats, to gut failure, and anything that makes me cry. Some days I manage better than others.

Currently I’m looking at the relationship between other aspects of my body chemistry, and my blood pressure, because there may be other factors to explore. I’m lucky in that my ability to read and make sense of scientific papers is fairly good. I know that using Dr Google is risky and not always wise. I also know from experience that there’s nothing like seeing a member of the medical profession for raising my blood pressure, and it’s hard to make a case for having a problem that cannot be measured effectively.

It’s a funny business, having a body, being embodied, and being wonky in ways that don’t have simple explanations and aren’t easy to fix. I try to be pragmatic about it. I study my wonkiness for patterns in the hopes of managing it better. Some days pretty much the only Druidry I can do involves experiencing nature as it manifests in my own body – weird and confusing as that often is.

Busking on the internet

I used to busk in the street a lot, many years ago. I figured as I needed to play regularly to keep my playing at a good standard, I might as well do some of it while standing in the street. People threw coins in the hat and in terms of hourly rates, I sometimes did better than minimum wage.

Of course standing in the street with an instrument meant that every now and then someone would assume I was homeless, and there were a few conversations about that. Which brings me to the question of how desperate you need to be for it to be ok to put the hat out in the first place. To what extent is it ok to ask for support in return for what you’re doing, if you aren’t struggling to afford food? To what extent do we see busking – in person and online – as glorified begging, or are we giving money because we appreciate what’s being offered?

When someone is paid a wage, we don’t tend to question what they spend it on if it’s legal. However, when people are on benefits, there’s a section of the public that gets really angry if those people look like anything other than starving Victorian paupers. We’re much more concerned about how people spend their money when those people are experiencing poverty, and there are people who definitely feel entitled to dictate how money given freely should be spent.

Where do I fit in with all of that? I have a secure home, but it’s small. I’ve been so ill over the last couple of years that conventional paid employment isn’t currently possible. I can afford to eat. I am not getting any funding from the state. I give a lot of stuff away online – which I feel is a lot like busking. I’m doing things because I want to do them, no one is even slightly obliged to chuck pennies in the hat, but some people generously do. Would it be different if I owned a house, or a car? Does it matter if I spend some of my money on things that might seem frivolous to others? 

I have given money to people I know when they’ve needed help. I buy things. If I give money I don’t ask what it’s going to be spent on. I bought a piece of art recently and I did not ask if the creator desperately needed the money. I give money to buskers. 

While I‘m very keen on gift economy, I don’t think we should be asking each other to give things away. Whether I think someone else can afford to give away their time and work is about my opinion, not their reality. Anyone who wants to should feel ok about putting out the busking hat, if that works for them. No one should have to justify the presence or absence of a busking hat, or a price ticket on things. Buy or not as you see fit, but don’t imagine you should be able to dictate what anyone else does or asks for.

I have books in my ko-fi store that you can have for free – https://ko-fi.com/O4O3AI4T/shop

And currently ko-fi is my internet busking hat. https://ko-fi.com/O4O3AI4T

I’m also on Patreon, which is great if you want to feel a bit like one of those historical noblemen or wealthy merchants who funded the art of the past, but you only have a modest budget. Or you’d like to create an automatic hand for throwing money regularly into busking hats. https://www.patreon.com/NimueB

Inviting the magic

One of the things you’ll hear a lot from magical practitioners is the importance of doing the practical things. It’s no good doing some fancy spell for a new job if you don’t also fill in the job applications. There’s no point doing magic to transform your life if you aren’t willing to roll up your sleeves and put in the work to transform your life. Magic is an expression of intent, so if you don’t act on your intent, you aren’t going to persuade yourself (much less the rest of the universe) that you take what you’re doing seriously.

However, there are more layers when it comes to doing the practical things, and those in turn call for being alert to the risk of unconsidered magical thinking. When we don’t know how something works, we may unconsciously conclude that it is in essence a sort of magic. I see this a lot around the idea of talent – this irrational belief that people are good at things because they have innate powers that magically enable them to do things. What really gets things done is enthusiasm and a willingness to work. You won’t magically become a great singer or artist by doing spells to become talented. You can however focus your intent on developing your enthusiasm and willingness to dedicate time and energy. 

I am inclined to relate to magic as something I want to invite, rather than control. This is very much related to how I feel about life. I don’t need to control everything. I don’t need to make things happen in a specific way. I’m also an animist and I don’t feel easy with the idea of imposing my will on anything other than myself. When I invite magic, it is often because I’m trying to figure out how best to do things. Trying to clearly see the present is often an issue for me. If I can act well, and harmoniously with what’s going on around me, my scope for getting good outcomes greatly increases.

I invite magic in the form of inspiration. I seek ideas for my creative work, and for my life as a whole. Inspiration relates to all aspects of life and everything we do benefits from us having ideas. I find that having a flow of inspiration helps me feel enthused about life and improves my motivation, which all also helps considerably with keeping the depression at bay.

I’m interested in inviting magic as it manifests in beauty and wonder. Experiences that give me those feelings also give me a sense of enchantment in my everyday life. The more open I am to being enchanted by what’s around me, the more scope I have for noticing the small joys and wonders.

There’s also a great deal of magic to be found in experiences of relationship and connection. Moments when wild creatures meet my gaze. Feelings of synchronicity. Finding I’m on the same wavelength as the other humans around me. Any time I’m doing something tangible there are opportunities to feel connection and for something to be shared.

Inviting magic is an everyday choice. It’s about deciding to have a particular kind of relationship with the world. It’s not enough to want wonder and enchantment, we have to do the things that make it possible. Showing up in a way that invites magic also means we’re more likely to be able to be magical for the people we encounter, and that’s entirely wonderful when it happens.

The Magic of Butterflies and Moths – a review

If you were anticipating a book about doing spells with butterflies and moths, that isn’t what happens here. This isn’t a book about how we might use other beings for our own purposes, I’m glad to say. Instead, it is an invitation to explore the wonders of these creatures.

Some years ago, when I started looking for books about otters, it became apparent to me that books about any aspect of nature are few and far between. Identification books dominate the field, and if you want to know about something in a broader or deeper way, there’s far less to read. This book is a deeper dive into the nature of butterflies and moths, and it was very much the kind of book I’ve been in need of. 

This is an ideal read for anyone interested in nature for its own sake and who wants to deepen their relationship with the wild world. It’s also entirely readable, in a way that the identification books generally aren’t. Steve Andrews is an experienced writer, who assumes his reader is astute, but not familiar with the subject matter, so it’s written very much for the intelligent learner. 

When it comes to moths and butterflies, Steve has considerable expertise. I’ve followed him on social media for years and he shares a lot from his own insect work. There’s an invitation in this book to get involved, as Steve shares his own insights into taking care of butterflies and moths. There is a lot that we as individuals can do to help the wildlife around us, and this book has some easily undertaken suggestions.

If you’re curious but only know a little about butterflies and moths, this book is well worth checking out.

More on the publisher’s website – https://www.johnhuntpublishing.com/moon-books/our-books/magic-butterflies-moths

The need for meaning

I don’t personally think the universe offers us absolute meaning beyond the remarkable fact of our own existence. However, meaning is something that humans crave, and often need. Having an understanding of what’s meaningful helps us navigate choices. A sense of meaning and significance puts our lives into helpful perspective and can inform our sense of self worth.

I think it’s down to each of us, individually, to find and create meaning in our lives. This is an existential perspective and I find it comforting. I know that for some people the idea that there is no external source of ultimate meaning can seem threatening. This is no doubt why so many humans – historical and contemporary – have been drawn to religions that offer clear explanations about what the point of life is and therefore how you should live. We don’t have that kind of authority in Druidry and people are free to approach the issue of meaning on their own terms.

When we know what we find meaningful, we have something to hold at the centre of our lives. Community spaces that enable people to flourish have always been really important to me. I’m here for the love of wild things, for creativity, inspiration and beauty. I believe in restorative justice. This leads me to a sense of personal honour that involves how I take care of the people in my life, what I can do for the wild world, and how to act justly and with compassion. On the days when I struggle to get out of bed in the morning, knowing that I might be able to do some small thing on these terms helps me get moving.

Existence offers innumerable opportunities for meaning on a personal scale. Just not ultimate definite meaning. We don’t have to wait until we find meaning, we can set out to choose it and create it. We don’t have to wait for some external source – be that a deity, a book or an institution – to hand us meanings or validate the ones we have. We can simply decide what’s meaningful and choose to live accordingly.

It doesn’t fix everything. Having a sense of meaning doesn’t magically cure depression or stave off anxiety. But it does give you something to hang on to. It means there are stars in your night sky you can use to plot your course, and often, that’s enough.

Being Lazy

When you consider how other mammals behave, it’s obvious that everyone else does what they have to, and no more. There isn’t another mammal species out there doing more than it needs to. Even in mammal communities where hierarchies occur, the lower ranking members tend to have a much easier time of it than humans do.

We have a story that work is a virtue. Work is particularly a virtue for poor people who would otherwise do terrible, sinful things if they weren’t kept busy. This creates a convenient cover for the way in which affluent people living a leisured life exploit the work of those who get to enjoy very little.

It’s very easy to accuse a person of laziness and very hard to prove that you aren’t being lazy. The accusation tends to be aimed at people who are vulnerable – those who are living in poverty, who are ill, disabled, living on the streets, addicted. Laziness puts the blame for this onto the shoulders of the people who are struggling. Meanwhile the story continues that if we just gave people stuff so they weren’t suffering all the time, they’d just sponge off those who have more, because laziness is their defining quality.

There’s no evidence to support this story. Give people the resources they need to contribute to their communities, and most people will act on that. The right wing idea of multigenerational households where no one works turned out not to be real, when it was finally investigated. Meanwhile at the other end of the economic spectrum, if you can sponge off the government in the form of massive contracts, or off workers in the form of massive shareholder revenues, that’s apparently not laziness or getting a handout. We need to rethink this.

It’s not a natural thing to work far harder than you need to so that someone else can make a profit out of you. Our bodies did not evolve for that. We’re all supposed to have time to rest, socialise, groom ourselves, lounge about in the sun, play, chew the cud. This is life, as mammals live it. We did not evolve to work relentlessly, and this is why our bodies and minds suffer when we try to do that. Capitalism is neither natural nor inevitable and there is nothing lazy about craving a gentler life at a more natural pace.