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| transiency_maja_kuzmanovic [2017-02-17 18:01] – maja | transiency_maja_kuzmanovic [2017-03-21 18:50] – [July 2016] maja |
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| I ended my pondering on the fallow year with the aftertaste of gratitude. To myself, to the core team of FoAM bxl and other foamies near and far, to our funders and clients, members and friends and to all of the mysterious forces of the universe for conspiring to make this year happen. It was far from perfect - and far from perfectly fallow - but it was necessary and it was valuable. I began the year rather depleted. I can’t say that I’m coming out of it completely refreshed and energised, but at least when I look forward I see more possibilities than obstacles. | I ended my pondering on the fallow year with the aftertaste of gratitude. To myself, to the core team of FoAM bxl and other foamies near and far, to our funders and clients, members and friends and to all of the mysterious forces of the universe for conspiring to make this year happen. It was far from perfect - and far from perfectly fallow - but it was necessary and it was valuable. I began the year rather depleted. I can’t say that I’m coming out of it completely refreshed and energised, but at least when I look forward I see more possibilities than obstacles. |
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| The fallow rhythm allowed me to crystallise insights that were dormant under the surface in the previous years of living with dis-ease on both medical and professional fronts. I’m going to leave them scattered as shimmering crystals. In lieu of a summary, I’d like to end this entry with some of the questions that arose in the past year, to guide me in the next phase of inquiry: | The fallow rhythm allowed me to crystallise insights that were dormant under the surface in the previous years of living with dis-ease on both medical and professional fronts. I’m going to leave them scattered across this page as shimmering crystals. In lieu of a summary, I’d like to end this entry with some of the questions that arose in the past year, to guide me in the next phase of inquiry: |
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| * How to thrive in uncertainty? | * How to thrive in uncertainty? |
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| * When faced with uncertain or difficult situations, how to "stay with the trouble", rather than fight, flight or freeze? From a place of openness and awareness, how to discern and cultivate promising alternatives to the status quo? | * When faced with uncertain or difficult situations, how to "stay with the trouble", rather than fight, flight or freeze? From a place of openness and awareness, how to discern and cultivate promising alternatives to the status quo? |
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| * How to move from the politics of surviving to a culture of thriving? | * How to move from the politics of surviving to a culture of thriving? |
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| * How to tackle "wicked problems" in a complex, turbulent world? | * How to tackle "wicked problems" in a complex, turbulent world? |
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| * How to consciously live in perpetual states of transition (as individuals, organisations, societies)? | * How to consciously live in perpetual states of transition (as individuals, organisations, societies)? |
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| * How to "weaponise" prototyping futures (e.g. as a tactic of resistance to a fear-mongering litany, among other things)? | * How to "weaponise" prototyping futures (e.g. as a tactic of resistance to a fear-mongering litany, among other things)? |
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| * How to hold space for embodied learning of complex, systemic phenomena (e.g. the effects of climate change)? | * How to hold space for embodied learning of complex, systemic phenomena (e.g. the effects of climate change)? |
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| * How to design experiences for immersion and absorption in the thick present and the long now? | * How to design experiences for immersion and absorption in the thick present and the long now? |
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| * What kinds of experiences stimulate contemplation and celebration? | * What kinds of experiences stimulate contemplation and celebration? |
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| * What experiences encourage wonder and wandering? | * What experiences encourage wonder and wandering? |
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| * What (new) myths and belief systems could foster alternatives to the current culture of fear (including fear of impermanence and the "other")? | * What (new) myths and belief systems could foster alternatives to the current culture of fear (including fear of impermanence and the "other")? |
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| * How to translate animist or mystical attitudes towards interconnectedness of all life into worldviews compatible with techno-materialist societies? | * How to translate animist or mystical attitudes towards interconnectedness of all life into worldviews compatible with techno-materialist societies? |
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| * What kinds of relationships between human and non-human worlds could be cultivated in an era of mass-extinction? What parallel arts, sciences or technologies become possible if we widen the sentience spectrum? | * What kinds of relationships between human and non-human worlds could be cultivated in an era of mass-extinction? What parallel arts, sciences or technologies become possible if we widen the sentience spectrum? |
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| -> //On a more "meta level": Which of these questions are most relevant to explore? What would I/we need to be able to answer these questions? What does the next action research cycle look like? In which contexts, cultures and environments to explore these questions? Etc.// | -> //On a more "meta level": Which of these questions are most relevant to explore? What would I/we need to be able to answer these questions? What does the next action research cycle look like? In which contexts, cultures and environments to explore these questions? Etc.// |
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| I’m enveloped in darkness. The darkness of the pre-dawn hour while I write this entry. The darkness of early February, the in-between time of Imbolc and the inception of spring. The darkness of the fallow land and the fallow year, teeming with vigorous yet bitter energy of life below its surface. The darkness of a crumbling cocoon, too tight for the creature craving to emerge from within. "//Not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb//" ([[http://valariekaur.com/2016/11/a-sikh-prayer-for-america-on-november-9th-2016/|Valerie Kaur]]). | I’m enveloped in darkness. The darkness of the pre-dawn hour while I write this entry. The darkness of early February, the in-between time of Imbolc and the inception of spring. The darkness of the fallow land and the fallow year, teeming with vigorous yet bitter energy of life below its surface. The darkness of a crumbling cocoon, too tight for the creature craving to emerge from within. "//Not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb//" ([[http://valariekaur.com/2016/11/a-sikh-prayer-for-america-on-november-9th-2016/|Valerie Kaur]]). |
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| {{::schiphol_bladerunner.jpg?600 |}} | {{::schiphol_bladerunner.jpg?730 |}} |
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| On Thursday morning, when the flight from Singapore landed in Amsterdam, the first announcement I heard was "//Watch your step when you get off the aircraft, there is a technical problem with lighting in parts of the airport.//" Under the watchful eyes of the grim security personnel, we descended into a dark corridor, pulsing with emergency strobe-lights. A river of flight-dazed passengers walking slowly in a disordered line, up a rickety escalator, people’s faces glowing eerily green. I felt as if we stumbled onto the set of [[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blade_Runner|Blade Runner]]. Cyberpunk incarnated. The colour faded into bleak shades of greys and browns when we stepped off the train in Brussels… | On Thursday morning, when the flight from Singapore landed in Amsterdam, the first announcement I heard was "//Watch your step when you get off the aircraft, there is a technical problem with lighting in parts of the airport.//" Under the watchful eyes of the grim security personnel, we descended into a dark corridor, pulsing with emergency strobe-lights. A river of flight-dazed passengers walking slowly in a disordered line, up a rickety escalator, people’s faces glowing eerily green. I felt as if we stumbled onto the set of [[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blade_Runner|Blade Runner]]. Cyberpunk incarnated. The colour faded into bleak shades of greys and browns when we stepped off the train in Brussels… |
| A stark contrast to the cheerful pinks, reds and oranges of the Chinese New Year that illuminated our last walk along Marina Bay only half a day earlier. The first days of the Year of the Rooster heralded interesting opportunities for the nomadic FoAM studio in Asia Pacific. We spent several tropical evenings in the company of [[https://twitter.com/honorharger|Honor Harger]] (and Co.), discussing times of transition and complexity, technological and social innovation, consciousness and religion, and a myriad of possible futures in Singapore as a temporary outpost for FoAM’s nomads. | A stark contrast to the cheerful pinks, reds and oranges of the Chinese New Year that illuminated our last walk along Marina Bay only half a day earlier. The first days of the Year of the Rooster heralded interesting opportunities for the nomadic FoAM studio in Asia Pacific. We spent several tropical evenings in the company of [[https://twitter.com/honorharger|Honor Harger]] (and Co.), discussing times of transition and complexity, technological and social innovation, consciousness and religion, and a myriad of possible futures in Singapore as a temporary outpost for FoAM’s nomads. |
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| <blockquote>//We are curious about the changing relationships between human and non-human worlds, in what Whitehead calls “mysterious reality in the background, intrinsically unknowable". We’re particularly interested in exploring ecological connections between worldviews, including kami (shinto), viriditas (christian mysticism) and panpsychism (philosophy). Our focus is on creating experiences to convey or encourage a sense of wonder. Our media include Romantic Machines, the vegetal mind, meditative environments, rites of passage, human scale systems and non-human technologies...// - Excerpt from a letter Nik and I wrote in Singapore | |
| | <blockquote>//We are curious about the changing relationships between human and non-human worlds, in what Whitehead calls “mysterious reality in the background, intrinsically unknowable". We’re particularly interested in exploring ecological connections between worldviews, including kami (shinto), viriditas (christian mysticism) and panpsychism (philosophy). Our focus is on creating experiences to convey or encourage a sense of wonder. Our media include Romantic Machines, the vegetal mind, meditative environments, rites of passage, human scale systems and non-human technologies...// |
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| | - Excerpt from a letter Nik and I wrote in Singapore |
| </blockquote> | </blockquote> |
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| {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/deziluzija/31907128593/}}\\ | {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/deziluzija/31907128593/}}\\ |
| After a smooth flight on one of my favourite airlines, we arrived in our temporary "jaunty" studio in Bukit Batok, with only a few days before the end of the lunar year. The studio is in a peculiar building, our neighbours ranging from car mechanics to mysterious import/export dealerships. Further afield we’re surrounded with national parks, residential blocks and highways. I write overlooking a water-tower, three giant lightning-rods, a Buddhist-Taoist temple with amputated swastikas and a stray piece of jungle destined for development in the near future. The monotonous sound of ceiling fans and cicadas is occasionally interrupted by screeching tires and echoing gongs. It’s good to be back in Asia, with its convoluted entanglement of the past and the future, where impermanence and tradition co-exist in surprisingly congruous juxtapositions. So familiar, yet so appealingly "other" to me. | After a smooth flight on one of my favourite airlines, we arrived in our temporary "jaunty" studio in Bukit Batok, with only a few days before the end of the lunar year. The studio is in a peculiar building, our neighbours ranging from car mechanics to mysterious import/export dealerships. Further afield we’re surrounded with national parks, residential blocks and highways. I write overlooking a water-tower, three giant lightning-rods, a Buddhist-Taoist temple with amputated swastikas and a stray piece of jungle destined for development in the near future. The monotonous sound of ceiling fans and cicadas is occasionally interrupted by screeching tires and echoing gongs. It’s good to be back in Asia, with its convoluted entanglement of the past and the future, where impermanence and tradition co-exist in surprisingly congruous juxtapositions. So familiar, yet so appealingly "other" to me. |
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| {{::img_5433.jpg?480 |}} | {{::img_5433.jpg?500 |}} |
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| We are in Singapore for only a week, so we immediately settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up before dawn and going for walks ahead of the heat or rain. We discuss our insights from the fallow year, write and rest during the day, then roam the city after dark. It takes a while to get used to the tropical food and climate, so I’m quite tired and lethargic, with occasional and unpredictable bursts of energy. One of the best aspects of the fallow year is being able to follow my natural biorhythm more often. Obviously I feel better, less stressed and more capable when I can wake up without an alarm-clock, when I can rest if I feel tired and allow the rest to last as long as it takes - minutes, hours or even days. It must be possible to organise my post-fallow work in accordance with my physical needs. I know it makes me more effective and more resilient, but it takes quite some discipline to resist falling into the maelstroms of constant "business" when working with others. I believe that having a clearer direction and a set of principles could help. I’m planning to take time in the coming weeks to distill the insights from the last twelve months. I’d like to articulate a direction, together with a set of questions for the next phase. | We are in Singapore for only a week, so we immediately settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up before dawn and going for walks ahead of the heat or rain. We discuss our insights from the fallow year, write and rest during the day, then roam the city after dark. It takes a while to get used to the tropical food and climate, so I’m quite tired and lethargic, with occasional and unpredictable bursts of energy. One of the best aspects of the fallow year is being able to follow my natural biorhythm more often. Obviously I feel better, less stressed and more capable when I can wake up without an alarm-clock, when I can rest if I feel tired and allow the rest to last as long as it takes - minutes, hours or even days. It must be possible to organise my post-fallow work in accordance with my physical needs. I know it makes me more effective and more resilient, but it takes quite some discipline to resist falling into the maelstroms of constant "business" when working with others. I believe that having a clearer direction and a set of principles could help. I’m planning to take time in the coming weeks to distill the insights from the last twelve months. I’d like to articulate a direction, together with a set of questions for the next phase. |
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| Working as an independent, but well connected transdisciplinary network we can function as a bridge across oft disparate worlds of theory and practice. We can only do that if we exist in the (often lonely and unrecognised) spaces in between. This is nothing new for us, but perhaps we should more clearly (and vocally) articulate this position. Not only is the way we work across various divides beneficial for the people in FoAM, but some aspects of it can be useful for others. Our work with [[:marine_colab/start|Marine CoLABoration]] for example, where we translated our collaborative processes into a programme of workshops for a range of organisations working on marine conservation. While our direct involvement in the programme ended about a year ago, the [[https://gulbenkian.pt/uk-branch/about-us/story/|CGF]] invited us to write a reflective article about it. We spent several days unravelling FoAM’s interpretation of the "lab approach", using Marine CoLAB as our case study. We wrote the first draft of the article, to be finalised in February. | Working as an independent, but well connected transdisciplinary network we can function as a bridge across oft disparate worlds of theory and practice. We can only do that if we exist in the (often lonely and unrecognised) spaces in between. This is nothing new for us, but perhaps we should more clearly (and vocally) articulate this position. Not only is the way we work across various divides beneficial for the people in FoAM, but some aspects of it can be useful for others. Our work with [[:marine_colab/start|Marine CoLABoration]] for example, where we translated our collaborative processes into a programme of workshops for a range of organisations working on marine conservation. While our direct involvement in the programme ended about a year ago, the [[https://gulbenkian.pt/uk-branch/about-us/story/|CGF]] invited us to write a reflective article about it. We spent several days unravelling FoAM’s interpretation of the "lab approach", using Marine CoLAB as our case study. We wrote the first draft of the article, to be finalised in February. |
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| Every morning we had a discussion over breakfast to asses our progress, which usually lead to putting the fallow year on hold to meet external deadlines. Combining the transiency with several overlapping experiments, doing work for clients and worrying about various loose ends in Brussels caused tension at times. All of us in the core team felt frustrated and desperate at various points in this fallow-ish year. Even though our reasons and circumstances varied, all the difficulties seem to originate from not having set clear boundaries around our transiency and making inevitable compromises. As the year draws to its end, a paradoxical sense of urgency to hold the space for reflection is increasing. At the same time I feel as if I’m crouching on starting blocks, my (mental) muscles tensing for a sprint. I must be watchful and pace myself as I begin the re-integration phase. I have to keep reminding myself that the next phase is going to be more like a long hike on uneven terrain than a short run with clearly delineated start and finish lines… | Every morning we had a discussion over breakfast to asses our progress, which usually lead to putting the fallow year on hold to meet external deadlines. Combining the transiency with several overlapping experiments, doing work for clients and worrying about various loose ends in Brussels caused tension at times. All of us in the core team felt frustrated and desperate at various points in this fallow-ish year. Even though our reasons and circumstances varied, all the difficulties seem to originate from not having set clear boundaries around our transiency and making inevitable compromises. As the year draws to its end, a paradoxical sense of urgency to hold the space for reflection is increasing. At the same time I feel as if I’m crouching on starting blocks, my (mental) muscles tensing for a sprint. I must be watchful and pace myself as I begin the re-integration phase. I have to keep reminding myself that the next phase is going to be more like a long hike on uneven terrain than a short run with clearly delineated start and finish lines… |
| In the first hours of 2017 I glimpsed [[https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/video/2017/jan/12/australia-day-lamb-ad-tackles-indigenous-land-rights-and-immigration-video|Australia]] as I had previously imagined it, before I ever set foot across its quarantined border. A group of people - likely a conglomeration of several beach parties - had invented or spontaneously organised a game loosely based on [[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quoits|quoits]] which involved covering a tree with looped glow-sticks. The tree was quite tall and the people in varying stages of drunkenness, so few of the glowing loops would reach their target. Successful throws received gaudy cheers, the ones that failed were jovially encouraged to try again. The tree was silently glowing in fading rainbow colours, surrounded by convivial echoes of laughter and multilingual conversations. The very air suffused with the ease of communal wellbeing and a relaxed, non-competitive playfulness. Diversity, social inclusion, non-judgmental collaboration, all qualities that the EU is explicitly aspiring to were playing out in front of me, on the other side of the globe. I knew it wouldn’t last, which only made this fleeting sensation of kinship with total strangers even more precious. | In the first hours of 2017 I glimpsed [[https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/video/2017/jan/12/australia-day-lamb-ad-tackles-indigenous-land-rights-and-immigration-video|Australia]] as I had previously imagined it, before I ever set foot across its quarantined border. A group of people - likely a conglomeration of several beach parties - had invented or spontaneously organised a game loosely based on [[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quoits|quoits]] which involved covering a tree with looped glow-sticks. The tree was quite tall and the people in varying stages of drunkenness, so few of the glowing loops would reach their target. Successful throws received gaudy cheers, the ones that failed were jovially encouraged to try again. The tree was silently glowing in fading rainbow colours, surrounded by convivial echoes of laughter and multilingual conversations. The very air suffused with the ease of communal wellbeing and a relaxed, non-competitive playfulness. Diversity, social inclusion, non-judgmental collaboration, all qualities that the EU is explicitly aspiring to were playing out in front of me, on the other side of the globe. I knew it wouldn’t last, which only made this fleeting sensation of kinship with total strangers even more precious. |
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| {{::vv-fest.jpg?650 |}} | {{ :vv-fest.jpg |}} |
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| Kinship, kinfolk, kindred spirits, kith and kin have been a leitmotif of my first week in 2017. The first couple of days I luxuriated in the verdant garden of the Blue House, in the company of [[https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/an-oral-history-of-the-first-cyberfeminists-vns-matrix|Franscesca Da Rimini]] (GashGirl, doll yoko, liquid_nation, VNS Matrix...) and [[https://medium.com/@alkan|Alkan Chipperfield]], two of my favourite Aussies, both who I would consider kin. The remainder of the week I spent in Melbourne in the company of my extended family in-law, other kin, celebrating the "Vv Festival", which included several birthday parties, cocktails, pub-food, fine dining and backyard barbecues. | Kinship, kinfolk, kindred spirits, kith and kin have been a leitmotif of my first week in 2017. The first couple of days I luxuriated in the verdant garden of the Blue House, in the company of [[https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/an-oral-history-of-the-first-cyberfeminists-vns-matrix|Franscesca Da Rimini]] (GashGirl, doll yoko, liquid_nation, VNS Matrix...) and [[https://medium.com/@alkan|Alkan Chipperfield]], two of my favourite Aussies, both who I would consider kin. The remainder of the week I spent in Melbourne in the company of my extended family in-law, other kin, celebrating the "Vv Festival", which included several birthday parties, cocktails, pub-food, fine dining and backyard barbecues. |
| === Week 47 === | === Week 47 === |
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| {{::img_5072.jpg?300 |}}It’s been a while since I was involved in a full-blown family Christmas celebration. This year in Glenelg I was fully immersed, albeit occasionally distracted by jetlag, motion sickness, heart palpitations and painful lymphedema. My body felt like a marionette, wobbling on the strings of willpower, circling around breakfasts, lunches and dinners with extended family and family friends. Food and cooking (and cleaning) for days on end. Mountains of gifts, mountains of waste. Balancing on the fine line between generosity and (over)consumption. With my socialist understanding of the spirit of the holiday, I put myself in service and helped where I was needed, which sometimes included simply getting out of the way. It reminded me of birthdays in the Kuzmanovic clan, which often numbered over thirty or forty people. Navigating such occasions is strangely similar to the state of mind I associate with being in the flow on my own. The sense of self dissolves into a state of alert attention. I felt like a leaf carried along the strong currents of a turbulent river. If I resist it in any way, it could become unbearable, but if I just let things happen, boisterous storms passed over me and through me… A good practice in how to avoid feeling "peopled out". From sunrise to sunset, the house was echoing with running feet of the young and old, a crying baby, children’s high pitched, high decibel voices and rapid fire of simultaneous conversations in a myriad of Aussie accents. When I’d return from a sunset walk along the beach, the soundtrack changed to all-night doof-doof of bad music and drunken destruction inflicted by our neighbours. | {{::img_5072.jpg?400 |}}It’s been a while since I was involved in a full-blown family Christmas celebration. This year in Glenelg I was fully immersed, albeit occasionally distracted by jetlag, motion sickness, heart palpitations and painful lymphedema. My body felt like a marionette, wobbling on the strings of willpower, circling around breakfasts, lunches and dinners with extended family and family friends. Food and cooking (and cleaning) for days on end. Mountains of gifts, mountains of waste. Balancing on the fine line between generosity and (over)consumption. With my socialist understanding of the spirit of the holiday, I put myself in service and helped where I was needed, which sometimes included simply getting out of the way. It reminded me of birthdays in the Kuzmanovic clan, which often numbered over thirty or forty people. Navigating such occasions is strangely similar to the state of mind I associate with being in the flow on my own. The sense of self dissolves into a state of alert attention. I felt like a leaf carried along the strong currents of a turbulent river. If I resist it in any way, it could become unbearable, but if I just let things happen, boisterous storms passed over me and through me… A good practice in how to avoid feeling "peopled out". From sunrise to sunset, the house was echoing with running feet of the young and old, a crying baby, children’s high pitched, high decibel voices and rapid fire of simultaneous conversations in a myriad of Aussie accents. When I’d return from a sunset walk along the beach, the soundtrack changed to all-night doof-doof of bad music and drunken destruction inflicted by our neighbours. |
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| As the temperature cooled from 41.5C to 19C, facilitated by a storm of monsoon proportions, the family commitments thinned out and we could venture further afield, meet friends and collaborators in a pleasant mix of socialising and work-talk. Aside from reminiscing on times gone by, resonating themes included trans-local communities, futures and transitions, various approaches to collapse, uncertainty and adaptation, life-writing and body-writing. Our [[Doing nothing]] is still intriguing to most, especially on organisational scale. | As the temperature cooled from 41.5C to 19C, facilitated by a storm of monsoon proportions, the family commitments thinned out and we could venture further afield, meet friends and collaborators (including Tim Boykett, Sarah Neville, Matt Thomas and Pippa Buchanan) in a pleasant mix of socialising and work-talk. Aside from reminiscing on times gone by, resonating themes included trans-local communities, futures and transitions, various approaches to collapse, uncertainty and adaptation, life-writing and body-writing. Our [[Doing nothing]] is still intriguing to most, especially on organisational scale. |
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| New Year’s Eve began for me with writing in the garden, basking in the warm glow of the last hour of sunlight in 2016. After a solid roast, Nik and I walked into the sunset and into the new year (most of the time against the current of crowds). It’s an important transition point for the two of us. The end of FoAM’s decade as a structurally funded "kunstenwerkplaats" (arts-lab). We still have some funding and legal obligations to fulfil in 2017, but the bulk of the work and responsibility was carried off our shoulders by the wind blowing from the Southern Ocean. | New Year’s Eve began for me with writing in the garden, basking in the warm glow of the last hour of sunlight in 2016. After a solid roast, Nik and I walked into the sunset and into the new year (most of the time against the current of crowds). It’s an important transition point for the two of us. The end of FoAM’s decade as a structurally funded "kunstenwerkplaats" (arts-lab). We still have some funding and legal obligations to fulfil in 2017, but the bulk of the work and responsibility was carried off our shoulders by the wind blowing from the Southern Ocean. |
| === Week 43-44 === | === Week 43-44 === |
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| My time in the last couple of weeks has been mostly future oriented, occasionally slipping into the troublesome past (with my convoluted invalidity status) and subsiding in the melancholic present (with unpredictable energy levels, and several endings to mourn and celebrate). The very near future - the last couple of months of the fallow year - required finalising travel plans to Australia, Singapore and Norway. After that, in the early spring of 2017 we will be entering a more outward-oriented phase of the transiency. I’ve decided that my transiency will continue in 2017, considering the many interruptions during 2016. From March onwards Nik and I would like to explore what it would be like for the two of us to function as a transient FoAM studio. Short collaborative experiments (in different places with a range of people) and periods of reflection, strategising and writing (in particular my cancer memoir and the [[http://lib.fo.am/f15/grow_your_own_worlds|GYOW]] kaiseki articles, which I will not manage to finish this year). Although the "real" work will begin from March 2017, our collaborators are starting to need our input now (Marine CoLAB, Time’s Up, Arizona State University, Istrian Anti-cancer league…). To ensure that our "new" commitments remain in line with promising directions, we conducted a futuring exercise looking at longer time horizons and possible alternatives. | My time in the last couple of weeks has been mostly future oriented, occasionally slipping into the troublesome past (with my convoluted invalidity status) and subsiding in the melancholic present (with unpredictable energy levels, and several endings to mourn and celebrate). The very near future - the last couple of months of the fallow year - required finalising travel plans to Australia, Singapore and Norway. After that, in the early spring of 2017 we will be entering a "non-fallow" phase of the transiency. I’ve decided that my transiency will continue in 2017, considering the many interruptions during 2016. I still feel the need for reflection, strategising and writing (in particular my cancer memoir and the [[http://lib.fo.am/f15/grow_your_own_worlds|GYOW]] kaiseki articles, which I will not manage to finish this year). Also, Nik and I would like to explore what it would be like for the two of us to function as a transient FoAM studio - drifting, popping in-and-out of existence where needed. Without a physical HQ. We need to research and experiment with "how" this nomadic studio could function and support itself. Although the "real" work will begin from March 2017, our collaborators are starting to need our input now. To ensure that our "new" commitments remain in line with promising directions, we conducted a futuring exercise looking at longer time horizons and possible alternatives. |
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| We asked ourselves "What things that we resonate with should we commit to?" Over the course of this year we touched on this question in informal conversations, but this time we attempted to find possible answers with a structured 2x2 scenario exercise. From a forest of signals and change drivers, we ended up with four critical uncertainties and distilled two scenario axes: capitalism <-> post-capitalism and materialist anthropocentrism <-> ecological panpsychism. The scenarios helped us clarify which aspects of our work might be most relevant in the world today and in the possible futures which we can see emerging. While there were no surprises, the exercise helped us connect and distill some of our intuitive resonances to larger societal trends. We came up with a few speculative directions: | We asked ourselves "What things that we resonate with should we commit to?" Over the course of this year we touched on this question in informal conversations, but this time we attempted to find possible answers with a structured 2x2 scenario exercise. From a forest of signals and change drivers, we ended up with four critical uncertainties and distilled two scenario axes: capitalism <-> post-capitalism and materialist anthropocentrism <-> ecological panpsychism. The scenarios helped us clarify which aspects of our work might be most relevant in the world today and in the possible futures which we can see emerging. While there were no surprises, the exercise helped us connect and distill some of our intuitive resonances to larger societal trends. We came up with a few speculative directions: |
| I woke up a few hours later shivering in the ICU. I was wrapped in a "portable sauna", with nurses doing their best to raise my temperature above 34C. They asked me to grade my pain on a scale from 1-10. I know by now which numbers correspond to sufficient amounts of pain killers. It took me a while to answer, my sludgy brain having difficulty with languages. I watched my tongue move between "sedam" and "seven" until it finally settled on the Dutch "zeven". After a few minutes the comforting wave of ContraMal spread slowly through my veins. A sense of liquefying peace. The physical boundaries of my body began shifting, as the morphine commenced its merry dance. I was a spectator in an augmented reality performance. The physical sensations in my skin, organs, limbs, nerves and neurons were superimposed with a speculative map of my subtle body, flickering in and out of focus. Time and space stretching and compressing with a hint of nausea. | I woke up a few hours later shivering in the ICU. I was wrapped in a "portable sauna", with nurses doing their best to raise my temperature above 34C. They asked me to grade my pain on a scale from 1-10. I know by now which numbers correspond to sufficient amounts of pain killers. It took me a while to answer, my sludgy brain having difficulty with languages. I watched my tongue move between "sedam" and "seven" until it finally settled on the Dutch "zeven". After a few minutes the comforting wave of ContraMal spread slowly through my veins. A sense of liquefying peace. The physical boundaries of my body began shifting, as the morphine commenced its merry dance. I was a spectator in an augmented reality performance. The physical sensations in my skin, organs, limbs, nerves and neurons were superimposed with a speculative map of my subtle body, flickering in and out of focus. Time and space stretching and compressing with a hint of nausea. |
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| {{:l1028458-2.jpg?400 |}} | {{:l1028458-2.jpg?500 |}} |
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| The surgery was successful and I was discharged in the evening. My convalescence proceeded without major complications. I remain wrapped in bandages and compression garments until mid December, but the pain and physical discomfort have been much more bearable this time around. The weakness and fatigue are still present, as usual. I’m expecting to be back to "normal" in a few weeks. We’re all hoping that I have entered the last stage of breast reconstruction, with no more major surgeries on my horizon. | The surgery was successful and I was discharged in the evening. My convalescence proceeded without major complications. I remain wrapped in bandages and compression garments until mid December, but the pain and physical discomfort have been much more bearable this time around. The weakness and fatigue are still present, as usual. I’m expecting to be back to "normal" in a few weeks. We’re all hoping that I have entered the last stage of breast reconstruction, with no more major surgeries on my horizon. |
| === Week 31-35 === | === Week 31-35 === |
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| After weeks of being in the flow of my transiency, I was drawn in the midst of other people’s problems. For the first half of September I was in Pula, surrounded by my various "clans". It was one week before the general election, with dark thoughts colouring every conversation. Unemployment, poverty, corruption, rampant greed, nationalism, broken relationships, life-threatening illnesses, to name but a few. A general sense of disillusionment and helplessness, tempered with a good dose of Balkan black humour, fuelled with copious amounts of coffee and alcohol. It was difficult to watch the people I care about feel so worn out by life’s circumstances. Especially when it came to the widespread resistance to - or impossibility of - change. I would listen, without giving advice, without attempting to help or intervene. That was all I could do, all they wanted me to do. | After weeks of being in the flow of my transiency, I found myself in the midst of other people’s problems. For the first half of September I was in Pula, surrounded by my various "clans". It was one week before the general election, with dark thoughts colouring every conversation. Unemployment, poverty, corruption, rampant greed, nationalism, broken relationships, life-threatening illnesses, to name but a few. A general sense of disillusionment and helplessness, tempered with a good dose of Balkan black humour, fuelled with copious amounts of coffee and alcohol. It was difficult to watch the people I care about feel so worn out by life’s circumstances. Especially when it came to the widespread resistance to - or impossibility of - change. I would listen, without giving advice, without attempting to help or intervene. That was all I could do, all they wanted me to do. |
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| Knowing when (not) to intervene is indeed an art. And a craft, in need of practice. FoAM’s motto "grow your own worlds" alludes to an ability to cultivate one’s own reality. Our work with futures is all about imagining how things could be otherwise, then experimenting and prototyping the alternatives. When sharing my experiences, most people would tell me that I live in a sci-fi world. That such things were not possible in their lives. Whether I was talking about using meditation to live with post-op pain, or about having funding for an organisation-wide transiency. My life, work and worldview seem to exist in another dimension. Because of my (unfamiliar) lifestyle, people seem to think that my life is easy and my problems trivial. "You’ll find a way, you always do." | Knowing when (not) to intervene is indeed an art. And a craft, in need of practice. FoAM’s motto "grow your own worlds" alludes to an ability to cultivate one’s own reality. Our work with futures is all about imagining how things could be otherwise, then experimenting and prototyping the alternatives. When sharing my experiences, most people would tell me that I live in a sci-fi world. That such things were not possible in their lives. Whether I was talking about using meditation to live with post-op pain, or about having funding for an organisation-wide transiency. My life, work and worldview seem to exist in another dimension. Because of my (unfamiliar) lifestyle, people seem to think that my life is easy and my problems trivial. "You’ll find a way, you always do." |
| Similar to the first two weeks of the transiency, I felt as if I was moving one step forward, two steps back. In February this rhythm felt frustrating, now it seemed just right. I spent quite some time looking over the materials from the last six months to distill insights. I'm hoping they will help me focus the next six months. Some of these are summarised above, others are still in note form scattered across digital and physical notebooks. The "one step forward" was actually many half-steps in many directions. | Similar to the first two weeks of the transiency, I felt as if I was moving one step forward, two steps back. In February this rhythm felt frustrating, now it seemed just right. I spent quite some time looking over the materials from the last six months to distill insights. I'm hoping they will help me focus the next six months. Some of these are summarised above, others are still in note form scattered across digital and physical notebooks. The "one step forward" was actually many half-steps in many directions. |
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| I went back to the one draft I wrote (in November last year) for the 'kaiseki' version of the Grow Your Own Worlds publication. I got the 'transient realities' text in a better shape, now awaiting Nik and/or Alkan to get their teeth into it. I rationalised the [[/f15/overview|chapters]] (there are seven now instead of ten), which makes it a bit more manageable. To help me get into the 'worlds' (aka chapters), I began the humongous process of cleaning up FoAM's digital archive, starting with (!) the [[http://lib.fo.am/index?do=index|Libarynth]] itself. I dared editing the [[http://lib.fo.am|front page]], which lead to days of wiki-gnoming. I enjoyed doing it, but it also reminded me just how much mess there is to clean up and just how ungrateful the task it really is. | I went back to the one draft I wrote (in November last year) for the 'kaiseki' version of the Grow Your Own Worlds publication. I got the [[:/f15/transient_reality|transient reality]] text in a better shape, now awaiting Nik and/or Alkan to get their teeth into it. I rationalised the [[/f15/overview|chapters]] (there are seven now instead of ten), which makes it a bit more manageable. To help me get into the 'worlds' (aka chapters), I began the humongous process of cleaning up FoAM's digital archive, starting with (!) the [[http://lib.fo.am/index?do=index|Libarynth]] itself. I dared editing the [[http://lib.fo.am|front page]], which lead to days of wiki-gnoming. I enjoyed doing it, but it also reminded me just how much mess there is to clean up and just how ungrateful the task it really is. |
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| A slightly less daunting task was putting together a proposal for the Gulbenkian Foundation, for work in 2017. I realised that being an 'experience design consultant' could be a job cut out for me. I never thought about it this way. At FoAM, experience design meant being involved in all aspects, from the initial idea, through to implementation, presentation (that we endearingly call the 'art jail', as we usually sit in dark rooms behind the scenes and/or guide the public through the experience), documentation and clean up. By the end of it, I am usually happy with the result but physically broken. The CGF proposal is quite the opposite: all the benefits of our design expertise, without the weight of implementation. At least theoretically. Let's see how it goes. | A slightly less daunting task was putting together a proposal for the Gulbenkian Foundation, for work in 2017. I realised that being an 'experience design consultant' could be a job cut out for me. I never thought about it this way. At FoAM, experience design meant being involved in all aspects, from the initial idea, through to implementation, presentation (that we endearingly call the 'art jail', as we usually sit in dark rooms behind the scenes and/or guide the public through the experience), documentation and clean up. By the end of it, I am usually happy with the result but physically broken. The CGF proposal is quite the opposite: all the benefits of our design expertise, without the weight of implementation. At least theoretically. Let's see how it goes. |
| {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/28181125671/}}\\ | {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/28181125671/}}\\ |
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| As I was "binding my negative energy" and describing my [[hosting/july_2016#conundrums|conundrums]] in the closing circle, people felt the need to "help", defend themselves or prove me wrong. A known impulse in situations when it is easier to give advice than to sit with the discomfort. I find advice in such moments completely counterproductive (it makes me feel incompetent), but I was too caught up in the whirlwind of hosting and participating (aware of the time slipping away) to recognise what was going on while it was happening. I did what I needed to do, but not exactly in the way I was hoping to. No matter, it’s all a part of the practice… | As I was "binding my negative energy" and describing my [[hosting/july_2016#conundrums|conundrums]] in the closing circle, people felt the need to "help", defend themselves or prove me wrong. A known impulse in situations when well meaning feedback is taken personally, when it is easier to give advice than to sit with the discomfort. I find advice in such moments completely counterproductive (it makes me feel incompetent), but I was too caught up in the whirlwind of hosting and participating (aware of the time slipping away) to recognise what was going on while it was happening. I did what I needed to do, but not exactly in the way I was hoping to. It’s all a part of the practice… |
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| | My conundrums about the hosting community: |
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| | * How can we, in this community, find a good flow between creative and receptive energies, between collective, goal-driven activities and supporting/nurturing individual members (think of the flow in the yin-yang symbol)? |
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| | * How can we co-create a light and clear community structure to avoid the "tyranny of structurelessness" (see quote below), allowing the group to become agile and adaptive? |
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| | * How do we balance the drive to hang out together and co-create new activities with the "time & money" pressure the individual members are struggling with? |
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| | * How can we be available, committed, reliable and punctual, so that we can enjoy "being and doing" together? So that the logistics and co-ordination tasks can be evenly and effectively distributed and exchanged, while also having time to socialise, celebrate and relax, i.e. enjoy each others' company? |
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| While we were cleaning up, Kathleen came back from the metro a few minutes after she left, having witnessed someone jumping under the train. This refocused everyone’s attention. Stevie and I had planned to improvise a guided meditation which didn’t happen during the Open Space, but it now it seemed more than appropriate. | While we were cleaning up, Kathleen came back from the metro a few minutes after she left, having witnessed someone jumping under the train. This refocused everyone’s attention. Stevie and I had planned to improvise a guided meditation which didn’t happen during the Open Space, but it now it seemed more than appropriate. |
| Stevie played the hurdy-gurdy while I spoke, asking questions that I asked myself in the difficult month of June: What does distress feel like? What’s underneath this feeling? What does this difficult situation want to teach me? What does it tell me about this moment? What do I notice right now? What if I had only a year to live? A month? A day? An hour? Just a few moments? What would really matter? We closed by acknowledging the preciousness of being alive. Letting everything else fade into the background, as Stevie's sound gradually faded into silence. | Stevie played the hurdy-gurdy while I spoke, asking questions that I asked myself in the difficult month of June: What does distress feel like? What’s underneath this feeling? What does this difficult situation want to teach me? What does it tell me about this moment? What do I notice right now? What if I had only a year to live? A month? A day? An hour? Just a few moments? What would really matter? We closed by acknowledging the preciousness of being alive. Letting everything else fade into the background, as Stevie's sound gradually faded into silence. |
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| At the end of the meditation we were all shivering, with tears in our eyes. All my doubts and fears temporarily dissolved. I felt in the flow again. I sensed what was needed, poured all my intention and artistry into creating an experience through improvisation. The experience was nurturing, while I got my "fix" of compassionate leadership and improvised creativity. A flow of yin and yang, of masculine and feminine drives. Goal-driven, creative nurturing that worked. | At the end of the meditation we were all shivering, with tears in our eyes. All my doubts and fears temporarily dissolved. I felt in the flow again. I sensed what was needed, poured all my intention and artistry into creating an experience through improvisation. The experience was nurturing, while I got my "fix" of improvised creativity. A flow of yin and yang, of masculine and feminine drives. Goal-driven, creative nurturing that worked. |
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| A slightly longer flow experience for me these last couple of weeks was co-authoring the [[:/future_fabulators/making_things_physical|Making things physical]] essay with Nik, Tim and Tina. I enjoyed the collaboration immensely. The topic was Physical Narratives, which Time’s Up explored more actively in the last years, but we at FoAM have done our fair share in the past. I took the lead, setup calls and proposed a structure. We discussed it, everyone made comments and we jointly made changes. Time’s Up started the first round of actual writing, sent us a draft that was about 1000 words too long, so it was our task to shorten it without losing the essence. It was a major rewrite, but I thought it was much better for it. As this was happening at the same time as the hosting gathering at the end of June, I was terrified that I had bulldozed over the text in the same way I did with too firmly framing the workshop. To my delighted surprise, the response was very positive. The article improved, and it didn’t matter who did the improving. Relieved, we spent a few more rounds of touching up and nudging the text and images until we were all satisfied. At the beginning and the end we spent time socialising and cheering over skype. There was time and space to talk about our lives, but none of our personal issues impacted the flow of the work. Our egos were left at the door and when we got onto working, the quality of the article was all that mattered. While the agreements were generally respected, there was also sufficient flexibility so that when something had to change, everyone was informed and could adapt, without stress. We finished the article three days before the deadline and could all stand behind the results. | A slightly longer flow experience for me these last couple of weeks was co-authoring the [[:/future_fabulators/making_things_physical|Making things physical]] essay with Nik, Tim and Tina. I enjoyed the collaboration immensely. The topic was Physical Narratives, which Time’s Up explored more actively in the last years, but we at FoAM have done our fair share in the past. I took the lead, setup calls and proposed a structure. We discussed it, everyone made comments and we jointly made changes. Time’s Up started the first round of actual writing, sent us a draft that was about 1000 words too long, so it was our task to shorten it without losing the essence. It was a major rewrite, but I thought it was much better for it. As this was happening at the same time as the hosting gathering at the end of June, I was terrified that I had bulldozed over the text in the same way I did with too firmly framing the workshop. To my delighted surprise, the response was very positive. The article improved, and it didn’t matter who did the improving. Relieved, we spent a few more rounds of touching up and nudging the text and images until we were all satisfied. At the beginning and the end we spent time socialising and cheering over skype. There was time and space to talk about our lives, but none of our personal issues impacted the flow of the work. Our egos were left at the door and when we got onto working, the quality of the article was all that mattered. While the agreements were generally respected, there was also sufficient flexibility so that when something had to change, everyone was informed and could adapt, without stress. We finished the article three days before the deadline and could all stand behind the results. |
| === Week 6/7 === | === Week 6/7 === |
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| 170667 words, 939760 characters, 233 pages further... I have finished writing up my life in the last seven years. Instead of writing a summary of the week, here's the last entry from my diary, written on the 22nd of March 2016, with the soundtrack of loud sirens and helicopters outside of my quiet living room. There have been two bomb attacks at the airport and Maalbeek metro station. Dozens of people dead, hundreds wounded. Considering the scale of other armed conflicts in the world, this doesn’t sound significant, but every life lost through such pointless violence is a tragedy. | 170667 words, 939760 characters, 233 pages further... I have finished writing up my life in the last seven years. Instead of writing a summary of the week, here's the last entry from my diary, written on the 22nd of March 2016, with the soundtrack of loud sirens and helicopters outside of my quiet living room. There have been two bomb attacks at the Brussels airport and Maalbeek metro station. Dozens of people dead, hundreds wounded. Considering the scale of other armed conflicts in the world, this doesn’t sound significant, but every life lost through such pointless violence is a tragedy. |
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| It’s beautiful early spring weather out there today, after a week of greyness. I was planning to go to Jubelpark and pick up my new credit card from Schumann, which - if I took the metro - would have taken me past the Maalbeek station. I decided not to go and stick with the writing instead, which I hoped to finish today so I could dedicate all of tomorrow to a vernal equinox ritual, celebrating balance of day-and-night, the inception of spring and alignment with viriditas. For me, this is a time to begin turning outwards again and watching new growth emerging in and around me, as well as thawing of frozen places in myself by meditating on forgiveness. The latter I started already on Sunday (at 5:30AM, the moment of the vernal equinox), as there is a lot I need to forgive, starting with myself, then expanding to include people and situations that caused me to harden, become defensive and judgmental. | It’s beautiful early spring weather out there today, after a week of greyness. I was planning to go for a walk in Jubelpark, as I had to be in my bank at Schumann, which - if I took the metro - would have taken me past the Maalbeek station. I decided not to go and stick with the writing instead, which I hoped to finish today so I could dedicate all of tomorrow to a vernal equinox ritual. A celebration of balance between day-and-night, the beginning of spring and alignment with viriditas. For me, this is a time to begin turning outwards again. Time to thaw the frozen places in myself by meditating on forgiveness, then watch new growth emerging in and around me. I started the meditation on forgiveness already on Sunday (at 5:30AM, the astronomical vernal equinox). There is a lot I need to forgive, starting with myself, then expanding to include people and situations that caused me to harden, become more defensive and judgmental than I'd like to be. |
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| {{::writing-retreat-w3.png|}} | {{::writing-retreat-w3.png|}} |
| My life and all of the hardships I was describing in the last weeks pale in comparison. I’m glad that I was very close to the end of writing up all my notes and diaries of the last seven years. I’m sure this rude awakening would have changed the writing substantially. The depths of my inner life would have been lost to external noise and relative irrelevance of my little worries. Yet for me, this month was invaluable. I must take care to nurture my "inner hermit" in my daily work and life in the future, even when I’m not in retreat. I feel too good now to let it all dissolve when I begin interacting with people again. | My life and all of the hardships I was describing in the last weeks pale in comparison. I’m glad that I was very close to the end of writing up all my notes and diaries of the last seven years. I’m sure this rude awakening would have changed the writing substantially. The depths of my inner life would have been lost to external noise and relative irrelevance of my little worries. Yet for me, this month was invaluable. I must take care to nurture my "inner hermit" in my daily work and life in the future, even when I’m not in retreat. I feel too good now to let it all dissolve when I begin interacting with people again. |
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| For four weeks I kept a relatively regular routine: waking early, meditating, exercising, having breakfast, writing, having lunch, resting, writing, ending the day by going for a walk, meditating or dancing, then relaxing with movies or audiobooks. The regular rhythm was an anchor to help me stay with my life story, no matter how painful it was to have to relive it all again, or to keep on track when it all seemed irrelevant. When I wouldn’t worry about the results and just enjoyed the process of introspection, it was an emotionally healing experience. As soon as I would wonder whether it would be useful for anyone else, the doubts would arise. Who would want to read this? In what format should I present it? How is this useful? Why do I want to work on this material any more? How dare I think that my life would be worth reading about? Would I hurt people around me by posting sensitive or intimate information online? Should it be freely available online, or should I try to find a publisher and make a book? Would I just expose myself and my whole tender emotional life to ridicule, judgement and rejection? When I’d start thinking this way, I just wanted to finish writing and then delete it all. Or print it and burn it. Or just keep it in one of the chests in the bedroom, perhaps to be found after my death. But then I’d remind myself that I don’t actually mind if no one ever reads this. The primary reason for this life-writing of mine is that I needed to have an honest, deep review of a difficult phase that is ending. Like a person on their death-bed seeing their life unfold as if a movie. With the added benefit that I still have a chance to change things in my life, unless the Islamic State decides that the Minimen church next door is a nest of "infidel crusaders" and bombs it today. | For four weeks I kept a relatively regular routine. The regular rhythm was an anchor to help me stay with my life story, no matter how painful it was to have to relive it all again, or to keep on track when it all seemed irrelevant. When I wouldn’t worry about the results and just enjoyed the process of introspection, it was an emotionally healing experience. As soon as I would wonder whether it would be useful for anyone else, the doubts would arise. Who would want to read this? In what format should I present it? How is this useful? Why do I want to work on this material any more? How dare I think that my life would be worth reading about? Would I hurt people around me by posting sensitive or intimate information online? Should it be freely available online, or should I try to find a publisher and make a book? Would I just expose myself and my whole tender emotional life to ridicule, judgement and rejection? When I’d start thinking this way, I just wanted to finish writing and then delete it all. Or print it and burn it. Or just keep it in one of the chests in the bedroom, perhaps to be found after my death. But then I’d remind myself that I don’t actually mind if no one ever reads this. The primary reason for this life-writing of mine is that I needed to have an honest, deep review of a difficult phase that is ending. Like a person on their death-bed seeing their life unfold as if a movie. With the added benefit that I still have a chance to change things in my life, unless the Islamic State decides that the Minimen church next door is a nest of "infidel crusaders" and bombs it today. |
| |
| During my writing, I re-inhabited every difficult situation in the last seven years. I explored its various dimensions, until I would reach the essence of my pain, on which I would meditate until the emotions subsided and I could release that situation into the past. Let it rest in peace underneath the written words. I also experienced many beautiful moments again, peppered throughout these "difficult years". The years I’d see as a homogeneous, continuous agony when I was depressed and burnt out. As with chronic pain, there were waves of despair, moments of quiet and times for celebration. I noticed that no matter how desperate my situation was, it would usually be followed by a realisation that I could do something to improve it. This "something" tended to be some small action (like mixing a new herbal tonic), or a change of surroundings that would help me get myself out of the emotional and physical quagmire. This happened over and over again. Observing the unfolding of seven years of my life in a few weeks of writing helped me acknowledge this innate resilience. An encouraging quality to be able to count on at the moment of crossing the liminal threshold of transition. Whatever happens, I should be able to cope with it. Furthermore, my relationship with Nik should be able to cope with it. We have lived through so many ups-and-downs together, which would have made many a marriage fall apart. I am grateful for that, to both of us. | During my writing, I re-inhabited every difficult situation in the last seven years. I explored its various dimensions, until I would reach the essence of my pain, on which I would meditate until the emotions subsided and I could release that situation into the past. Let it rest in peace underneath the written words. I also experienced many beautiful moments again, peppered throughout these "difficult years". The years I’d see as a homogeneous, continuous agony when I was depressed and burnt out. As with chronic pain, there were waves of despair, moments of quiet and times for celebration. I noticed that no matter how desperate my situation was, it would usually be followed by a realisation that I could do something to improve it. This "something" tended to be some small action (like mixing a new herbal tonic), or a change of surroundings that would help me get myself out of the emotional and physical quagmire. This happened over and over again. Observing the unfolding of seven years of my life in a few weeks of writing helped me acknowledge this innate resilience. An encouraging quality to be able to count on at the moment of crossing the liminal threshold of transition. Whatever happens, I should be able to cope with it. Furthermore, my relationship with Nik should be able to cope with it. We have lived through so many ups-and-downs together, which would have made many a marriage fall apart. I am grateful for that, to both of us. |
| === Week 05 === | === Week 05 === |
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| Continuing transcription of my diaries. It's been slow going, as there are many gaps I left unwritten while being snowed under EC audits, demanding projects, troublesome collaborations, medical disasters and emotional upheavals that lead to my depression in 2012-2013. There were times this week when I wondered why I'm doing this to myself. In order to be able to write about this period in as much rich detail as the things I've recorded in my diaries at the time, I have to dig deep into my conscious, unconscious and somatic memories. I have to bring myself to feel the way I felt then, so that I can translate the experience into words. Sometimes I truly am a fluffy gothic daughter of the Balkans, wallowing my own pathos and despair! Luckily the sun returned to Brussels this week so when I wasn't writing I was walking, happy to be in 2016 again. | Continuing transcription of my diaries. It's been slow going, as there are many gaps I left unwritten while being snowed under EC audits, demanding projects, troublesome collaborations, medical disasters and emotional upheavals that lead to a depression in 2012-2013. There were times this week when I wondered why I'm doing this to myself. In order to be able to write about this period in as much rich detail as the things I've recorded in my diaries at the time, I have to dig deep into my conscious, unconscious and somatic memories. I have to bring myself to feel the way I felt then, so that I can translate the experience into words. Sometimes I truly am a fluffy gothic daughter of the Balkans, wallowing my own pathos and despair! Luckily the sun returned to Brussels this week so when I wasn't writing I was walking, happy to be in 2016 again. |
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| {{::writing-retreat-w2.png|}} | {{::writing-retreat-w2.png|}} |
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| I made two exceptions this week and made small contributions to Barbara's and Stephen's current activities. Both of them were related to what I'm currently writing about, so I didn't mind. With Stephen I edited the artist statement for the Chemo Singing Bowl. It's the first that my body has been included as the "co-artist" in an exhibition. Stephen created the beautiful [[https://www.researchgate.net/publication/282454508_Diagnosing_blood_pressure_with_Acoustic_Sonification_singing_bowls|Diagnostic Singing Bowl]] (pictured above) using CAD based on my blood pressure data during chemo and bevacizumab treatments in 2009-2010. For Barbara I wrote the following testimonial of the ritual she guided for me just before my surgery last June: | I made two exceptions this week and made small contributions to projects by [[http://beyondthespoken.eu/|Barbara Raes]] and [[https://stephenbarrass.com/2016/01/18/chemo-singing-bowl/|Stephen Barras]]. Both of them were related to what I'm currently writing about, so I didn't mind. With Stephen I edited the artist statement for the Chemo Singing Bowl. It's the first that my body has been included as the "co-artist" in an exhibition. Stephen created the beautiful [[https://www.researchgate.net/publication/282454508_Diagnosing_blood_pressure_with_Acoustic_Sonification_singing_bowls|Diagnostic Singing Bowl]] (pictured above) using CAD based on my blood pressure data during chemo and bevacizumab treatments in 2009-2010. For Barbara I wrote the following testimonial of the ritual she guided for me just before my surgery last June: |
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| <blockquote>Vorig jaar moest ik afscheid nemen van mijn borsten, een belangrijk symbool van mijn vrouwelijkheid. Een paar dagen vóór mijn bilaterale mastectomie heeft Barbara samen met een groep krachtige vrouwen een bijzonder afscheidsritueel gehouden. Het was een geladen en ontroerende beleving waar ik er helemaal mocht zijn, met mijn gebrekkig lichaam en al mijn zorgen en verdriet. Barbara omhelsde mij bij de ingang en leidde mij door de studio waar ik dagelijks werk. "Ik ben hier voor je" zei ze "ik zal je dragen." En inderdaad, voor een uur lang voelde ik mij door de vrouwelijke oerkrachten van mijn vriendinnen gedragen, onder Barbara’s zachte begeleiding. Onze bibliotheek was omgetoverd naar een groen rustoord; in het midden van de ruimte een nest van kussens en dekens waarop ik mocht liggen. Mijn vriendinnen waren getransformeerd tot de archetypische godinnen. Hun krachten en energie hebben zij als poëtische wensen aan mij geschonken. Ze namen mij mee door een stroom van zintuigelijke ervaringen, waar mijn maelstroom van emoties zonder remmingen mocht razen, tot dat ik de serene stilte van acceptatie had bereikt. De kleuren, geuren, geluiden en strelingen brachten mij tot een alternatief bewustzijn. Mijn lichaam vloeide buiten de oevers van mijn huid, en ik zweefde gewichtsloos, opgehouden door de fluisterende stemmen en warme handen. Het ritueel eindigde in een euforisch vuurspel, opgedragen aan de zonnewende en hernieuwing voor ons allemaal. Ik voelde mijn feminiene vitaliteit ontwaken, zo omringd door mijn glimlachende, stralende zusters. Het was ongelofelijk belangrijk om op zo’n bewuste manier afscheid te nemen van een lichaamsdeel die mij veel vreugde en veel pijn heeft gebracht. Barbara’s rol als ritueel begeleidster was een onschatbare ondersteuning van mijn rouwproces. Zij heeft mij geholpen om aan mijn verlies bestaansrecht te geven. En daarmee veel ruimte voor een nieuw begin. Ik ben haar mateloos dankbaar. </blockquote> | <blockquote>Vorig jaar moest ik afscheid nemen van mijn borsten, een belangrijk symbool van mijn vrouwelijkheid. Een paar dagen vóór mijn bilaterale mastectomie heeft Barbara samen met een groep krachtige vrouwen een bijzonder afscheidsritueel gehouden. Het was een geladen en ontroerende beleving waar ik er helemaal mocht zijn, met mijn gebrekkig lichaam en al mijn zorgen en verdriet. Barbara omhelsde mij bij de ingang en leidde mij door de studio waar ik dagelijks werk. "Ik ben hier voor je" zei ze "ik zal je dragen." En inderdaad, voor een uur lang voelde ik mij door de vrouwelijke oerkrachten van mijn vriendinnen gedragen, onder Barbara’s zachte begeleiding. Onze bibliotheek was omgetoverd naar een groen rustoord; in het midden van de ruimte een nest van kussens en dekens waarop ik mocht liggen. Mijn vriendinnen waren getransformeerd tot de archetypische godinnen. Hun krachten en energie hebben zij als poëtische wensen aan mij geschonken. Ze namen mij mee door een stroom van zintuigelijke ervaringen, waar mijn maelstroom van emoties zonder remmingen mocht razen, tot dat ik de serene stilte van acceptatie had bereikt. De kleuren, geuren, geluiden en strelingen brachten mij tot een alternatief bewustzijn. Mijn lichaam vloeide buiten de oevers van mijn huid, en ik zweefde gewichtsloos, opgehouden door de fluisterende stemmen en warme handen. Het ritueel eindigde in een euforisch vuurspel, opgedragen aan de zonnewende en hernieuwing voor ons allemaal. Ik voelde mijn feminiene vitaliteit ontwaken, zo omringd door mijn glimlachende, stralende zusters. Het was ongelofelijk belangrijk om op zo’n bewuste manier afscheid te nemen van een lichaamsdeel die mij veel vreugde en veel pijn heeft gebracht. Barbara’s rol als ritueel begeleidster was een onschatbare ondersteuning van mijn rouwproces. Zij heeft mij geholpen om aan mijn verlies bestaansrecht te geven. En daarmee veel ruimte voor een nieuw begin. Ik ben haar mateloos dankbaar. </blockquote> |
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| <html><iframe width="90%" height="150" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/128534302&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true"></iframe></html> | |
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| <blockquote>How to keep the time-wasters from taking over your life? The most important thing you have in your day is your time. How you apply and wield that time will determine the course of your life. Not to be too dramatic about it, but — yeah, that’s pretty much it. If you have three hours, how much of it are you spending on what you want to do, versus what other people want you to do? </blockquote> | <blockquote>How to keep the time-wasters from taking over your life? The most important thing you have in your day is your time. How you apply and wield that time will determine the course of your life. Not to be too dramatic about it, but — yeah, that’s pretty much it. If you have three hours, how much of it are you spending on what you want to do, versus what other people want you to do? </blockquote> |
| === Week 04 === | === Week 04 === |
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| I've began transcribing diaries, editing and writing about my last seven years of living with cancer... in silence. I'm resting my vocal cords and feeling the pace decelerate. My 'lent fast' this year is a social one, I'm abstaining from people and from afflictive emotions related to people. I'm turning my gaze inward, to see what is really in there when all the social noise is removed. My days follow more or less a fixed routine. I extended the morning practice (meditation and exercises) from 20 minutes to an hour or longer. I have breakfast, I write, have lunch, rest, write, have afternoon tea, go for a walk, follow random interests wherever they take me. In the evening when I start feeling cold, I put on my headphones and dance for a while, then do anything I feel like doing. It usually involves listening to books, watching movies or meditating. Sleep comes easily and the work nightmares are lessening. I'm becoming more [[:resilients/comfortable_with_uncertainty|comfortable with uncertainty]]. | I began transcribing diaries, editing and writing about my last seven years of living with cancer... in silence. I'm resting my vocal cords and feeling the pace decelerate. My 'lent fast' this year is a social one, I'm abstaining from people and from afflictive emotions related to people. I'm turning my gaze inward, to see what is really in there when all the social noise is removed. My days follow more or less a fixed routine. I extended the morning practice (meditation and exercises) from 20 minutes to an hour or longer. I have breakfast, I write, have lunch, rest, write, have afternoon tea, go for a walk, follow random interests wherever they take me. In the evening when I start feeling cold I put on my headphones and dance for a while, then do anything I feel like doing. It usually involves listening to books, watching movies or meditating. Sleep comes easily and the work nightmares are lessening. I'm becoming more [[:resilients/comfortable_with_uncertainty|comfortable with uncertainty]]. |
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| {{::writing-retreat-w1.png|}} | {{::writing-retreat-w1.png|}} |
| {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/zzkt/24714205073/}}\ | {{>http://www.flickr.com/photos/zzkt/24714205073/}}\ |
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| Celebrating with [[https://www.flickr.com/photos/zzkt/25314343986/|delectable tastes]] of [[http://airdutemps.be/|Air du Temps]]... Until we get rudely brought back to reality by Stevie's urgent texts and voice messages demanding that we find her power supply. Back in Brussels, taking down the Stillness exhibition, being annoyed by worldly demands, printing and sending the yearly report, paying bills and updating the website. Ritually cleaning the blackboard and pulling down the shutter of the admin closet. | Celebrating with [[https://www.flickr.com/photos/zzkt/25314343986/|delectable tastes]] of [[http://airdutemps.be/|Air du Temps]]... Until we get abruptly brought back to reality by urgent texts and voice messages demanding that we find one of FoAM's artists' power supply. It seems like even for people closest to us it's still unclear that a fallow year means that the core team will not be taking care of daily management at FoAM. |
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| | Back in Brussels, taking down the Stillness exhibition, printing and sending the yearly report, paying bills and updating the website. Ritually cleaning the blackboard and pulling down the shutter of the admin closet. |
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| Nik departs to Australia. | Nik departs to Australia. |
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| On Monday 29/02/2016 at 17h I finally close the FoAM door behind me and begin my writing retreat and social fast for a month. A month of being on my own, without having to take anyone else's wishes and needs into account. Just thinking about it the weight begins dropping off my shoulders... As I come home, I'm greeted with direct sunshine on the wall (for the first time since October), refracted through a crystal into dozens of tiny rainbows... Good sign! | On Monday 29/02/2016 at 17h I finally close the FoAM door behind me and begin my writing retreat and social fast for a month. A month of being on my own, without having to take anyone else's wishes and needs into account. Just thinking about it the weight begins dropping off my shoulders... |
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| | As I come home, I'm greeted with direct sunshine on the wall (for the first time since October), refracted through a crystal into dozens of tiny rainbows... |
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| === Week 02 === | === Week 02 === |
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| Day one: CGF evaluation notes online, emptying the mailbox, meeting Luea, working on the newsletter. Again too tired to go out in the evening to see Rasa & Pieter's event at Q-O2. Hmm... At least the hours of daylight are getting visibly longer... | Day one: [[marine_colab/reflection_meeting|CGF evaluation notes]] online, emptying my inbox, meeting [[http://shifts.be/|Luea]], working on the newsletter. Again too tired to go out in the evening to see Rasa & Pieter's event at Q-O2. |
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| I'd like to make my own tree of contemplative practices: http://www.contemplativemind.org/practices/tree | At least the hours of daylight are getting visibly longer... |
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| The rest of the week: gradually working down my to-do list. Finishing the yearly report and the [[https://tinyletter.com/_foam/letters/foam-digest-winter-02016|winter digest]]. With every item that I cross off, a I feel small atoms of space and lightness spreading in my head... | The rest of the week: gradually working down my to-do list. Finishing the yearly report and the [[https://tinyletter.com/_foam/letters/foam-digest-winter-02016|winter digest]]. With every item that I cross off, a I feel small atoms of space and lightness spreading in my head... |
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| | I wonder, what would my own [[http://www.contemplativemind.org/practices/tree|tree of contemplative practices]] look like? |
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| === Week 01 === | === Week 01 === |
| * Day three: total collapse and a marathon of period dramas, instead of a planned visit to Artefact... | * Day three: total collapse and a marathon of period dramas, instead of a planned visit to Artefact... |
| * Day four: back to work - tying loose ends, making to-do lists and automatic reply messages, designing the [[http://fo.am/macrotransiency-foam-bxl/|transiency page]], writing text for the newsletter, hearing about pre-advices for other structurally funded organisations (and irrationally having second thoughts regarding our decision not to apply)... Walking home feeling that we're moving one step forward, one and 1/2 step back... | * Day four: back to work - tying loose ends, making to-do lists and automatic reply messages, designing the [[http://fo.am/macrotransiency-foam-bxl/|transiency page]], writing text for the newsletter, hearing about pre-advices for other structurally funded organisations (and irrationally having second thoughts regarding our decision not to apply)... Walking home feeling that we're moving one step forward, one and 1/2 step back... |
| * Day five: finalising the VG report, paying bills, CGF finances, jaarrekening and then apero. Sounds like the same old Friday... | * Day five: finalising the funding report for the Flemish Authorities, paying bills, sorting out finances for Marine CoLAB and closing FoAM's financial year 2015 and then apero. Sounds like the same old Friday... |
| * Day six & seven: codeine+nurofen assisted rest; sleep, eat, stare at screens (more period dramas); some positive thoughts start bubbling again with ideas for the march retreat and a long futuring process for FoAM in the spring, dispersed with deep-set fears about (financial) insecurity (which I can 'meditate' away, sometimes) | * Day six & seven: codeine+nurofen assisted rest; sleep, eat, stare at screens (more period dramas); some positive thoughts start bubbling again with ideas for my writing retreat and a long futuring process for FoAM in the spring, dispersed with deep-set fears about (financial) insecurity (which I can 'meditate' away, sometimes) |
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maja