How do we make meaning when the world is falling apart?
We live in a culture that focuses on "action steps" and production, no matter how we're feeling, or what we're going through, and so we can feel simultaneously sped up, stuck, and exhausted. We don't always have the space or time to let what we learn move through us in a deeper, more embodied way. And these days, there is a lot to move through and feel and hold.
As crises accumulate and the ways our culture organizes care continue to fail, we can feel the heaviness of all we're holding, individually and collectively.
Capitalism keeps us moving faster than our bodies' natural sense of rhythm.
Sometimes we can feel stuck in an endless loop of doing and nervous system freeze. There is so much pressure to keep going, to ignore our limits, to finish all the things no matter what's going on with us. If we can only move by overriding ourselves, then it can be hard to notice what we’re actually feeling. Trying to connect with our body might actually increase our feelings of alienation.
What would happen if we took the time to tend to ourselves, and to our deeper questions, at a slower pace?
When we learn to understand the ways systems of domination + harm are at work in us, and reconnect with our bodies in non-judgmental, non-coercive ways, we can respond to ourselves with more care. And as the needs of the world become ever greater, we can be more present to them, and move (in our work, in our relationships, in the collective) in a more embodied, human way.
We can learn what it feels like, and what we need to hold and integrate the deep questions we're carrying.
What if you didn't have to hold it alone?
We're constantly told to do this work on & by ourselves, as if we can individually work our way out of a collective crisis. But this isn't work we're meant to do alone.
Slow Work is a ten month container of accompaniment and attention, a space to practice the gentle tending to our bodies that our culture constantly interrupts. It's a way to listen for what's really here, hold space for what we're experiencing, and notice what integration feels like in our bodies.
I'm a writer and an anticapitalist working to build a future beyond capitalism and the oppressive systems it's interwoven with. I accompany people as they grapple with questions about how we can live and work in ways that move us towards a meaningful life - for ourselves, our loved ones & communities, and the more-than-human-world. I'm white, queer & nonbinary, and come from European settlers and immigrants who work with their hands, live near water, and who chose allegiance to systems over collective care in order to find safety and security, and because of this, struggle with rootlessness. I have my grandmother's laugh, and her love of trees.