By Graham Meltzer (CCC19 in-house focaliser) and Stephanie Mines (CCC19 conference convener).
Dear readers, we are acutely aware that we have not posted to this blog for several weeks. To our 300+ followers and 3000+ visitors per month, we apologise. For two years, we set quite a blistering pace, posting weekly or fortnightly, more than 60 articles. Most popular by far, was the guest post by Joanna Macy, which has received over 3500 hits. No surprises there. But recently, we have all been too busy organising the CCC19 conference to find time for writing, editing and posting.
Stephanie Mines, conference convener and prolific author of the vast majority of our blog posts, has in addition been passionately cultivating a paradigm of sustainable healthcare for a climate changing world. Recently, she’s been travelling and working in New Zealand, where one day she and her husband Bob hope to settle. (NZ also happens to be the country of my birth and upbringing.) As for me, editor of the blog and website manager, I’ve been organising the onsite logistics of a conference of 300 participants, which is now only two months away.
We are much supported by my colleagues in the Conference Office of the Findhorn Foundation, our fellow co-workers in the FF and, in fact, the whole Findhorn community. The conference has truly ‘landed’ in the community and been embraced by it. Many new projects catalysed by the coming event have recently sprung into being, boosting our already well established sustainability practices to a new level. There is a high level of anticipation of what’s undoubtedly going to be a momentous, perhaps a landmark, event.
As you may know, the conference has been fully subscribed for many months. We have to limit the number of onsite participants to about 300 (and even that is stretching our capacity). So we are now putting energy into live-streaming the event to enable many more people to participate. We are encouraging the formation of live streaming hubs, which are organised groups, NGOs, businesses and institutions that will self-organise an event of their own, based around the live streaming. We will be listing the names of registered hubs on the website here, with their contact details, so that folk in their area can make contact and join.
The news about climate change continues to worsen dramatically. Even in the two years since Stephanie was guided to propose a conference on the topic at Findhorn, the occurrences of heatwaves, droughts, storms and floods has markedly accelerated. Fortunately, ‘the people’ are finally waking up to this urgency. And we are being passionately led by the young, those with most to lose through climate change ( i.e. their very future). Governments, for the most part, are still in denial, but that too, is beginning to shift.
We have striven to attract diverse viewpoints, backgrounds and interests to engage and dialogue at Findhorn (See here). And we have succeeded. The 300 ‘voices in the room’ comprise roughly equal numbers of representatives from 15 different sectors, including business, government, law and innovation. They will join with the more likely voices from science, education, health, spirituality, farming, community and the arts. Climate and social justice activists will of course also be present, as well as representatives from indigenous cultures from all parts of the world. And most significantly of all, the voices of children and youth will be loud, up front and centre at this conference.
We hope you will be able to join us in April, one way or another.
Song of the Uprooted Ones
What happens to plants when they are uprooted and tossed recklessly,
Clumps of sod clinging to their slender strands,
Parts of their being scattered, falling into the cracks of the earth?
The rivers carry their flower heads, seed laden,
Multi-colored fragments of what was once whole,
What was once contained, rooted in one memorable place,
Now languaged anew, re-colored by the elements,
Re-shaped genetically, epigenetically,
Memory is tossed, scrambled like words in a stroke unstructured brain,
Lopsided, slurred, asymmetrical memory,
Disconnected from time and place.
This is the dissonant song of the uprooted ones,
Detached, without genus or nomenclature;
No memory of river they scream “I do not know my river,”
No memory of mountain they wail, “I do not know my mountain.”
The tribal starved roots of the homeless find each other
In a world so disordered and rearranged, so displaced that
These disentangled roots weave together
As if magnetized by the unknown;
Webs of uprooted tendrils,
Lacy and interlacing,
Coming home to each other,
To what was once known as community.
They find as if from out of nowhere
The lodge where they will sleep together,
In the vast deep hammock-like structure of their
February 9, 2019