And warm greetings from the Palace.
This weekâs title is a quote from a poem by June Jordan, written to remember the 40,000 women and children who, on August 9 1956, protested the âdompassâ segregation laws of apartheid.
we are the ones we have been waiting for
Iâve got my own reasons for carrying this line of poetry around in my head like a lucky pebble. Now Iâve shared it: what does it mean to you?
For those of you new around these parts, welcome ð Numbers are only a number, but there are now 702 people reading this email. Thatâs so many people! If you want to make this club more exclusive, then you could unsubscribe. But if you want to fling open the doors, please share with people you think will vibe.
My name is David and Iâm a writer, outdoor instructor and cyclist-at-large with Thighs of Steel. In this newsletter, I write stories that help you and me understand the world (and ourselves) a little better.
Sometimes I get into a poem.
Todayâs story is a three-fold magazine pullout section. Nothing long form, nothing taxing. Weâve all had a hard week. So slide down into your chair, pull your jumper up over your chin and scroll.
Diagnosis Day (and why itâs worth celebrating)
On 1 May sixteen years ago, I was diagnosed with Hashimotoâs hypothyroidism. That day, my GP told me that sheâd never seen test results like mine. I was, she said, about three months out from going into a coma. Mayday, mayday, indeed.
During a life, even if you think you lead a life pretty ordinary, there are going to be at least a couple of days in your long span when something happens. Something actually pretty significant. A moment like the moments you see in films all the time: a moment with a clear before and after.
Diagnosis Day was one of those days for me.
-
Before: David sleeps fifteen hours a day and canât brush his teeth without pulling a muscle.
-
After: David has a diagnosis, a prognosis â and a treatment, pills that will be rebranded as his âcharisma pillsâ.
Days like this remind us that things could be different. Maybe that things will be different. Perhaps even that things are always differenting themselves.
Because, one day, there will come a day that is the end of days.
So, I say, peg at least one such day in your calendar every year to remember that you are still alive, still here, despite everything changing, all the time.
~
For anyone on the same Hashimotoâs journey, I stand by what I wrote on the tenth anniversary. Good luck. We only have one go round the Earth. Might as well celebrate.
Green Alkanet
Those pretty blue flowers youâve been seeing on the edges of everywhere? Itâs green! Green alkanet to be precise.
Itâs a fuzzy, furry plant so might cause a skin reaction if you rub up against it too much. But the flowers, thrillingly, are edible. No particular reason why you would, but you can â and isnât that half the fun?
Reading School*
Iâm currently reading the excellentâ¦
Wild Service (Nick Hayes and Jon Moses, editors)
In May 2022, the Royal Swedish Academy of Science released a paper that measured fourteen European countries on three factors: biodiversity, wellbeing, and nature connectedness. Britain came last in every single category.
I have no idea why the Wild Service editors tout the Royal Swedish Academy of Science when the authors of this famous study, Miles Richardson, Iain Hamlin, Lewis R. Elliott and Mathew P. White, hail from the universities of Derby, Exeter and Vienna respectively.
Nevertheless, the studyâs analysis of almost 15,000 respondants found that ânature connectednessâ â how close we feel to our ecology â is a critical indicator of the wellbeing of both human and nature.
Increase our connection to nature, the theory goes, and we would increase the health and happiness of, yes, us humans, but also the health and happiness of the bazillions of other species with whom we live in hidden community.
Wild Service proudly proclaims itself as âA Right to Roam Call to Actionâ and argues that our level of nature connectedness is inextricably tied to our ability (or more likely our inability) to access nature.
Convincing.
The editors donât stop there, though. This book is no mere protest pamphlet; itâs a forceful, forensic reclamation of our reciprocal and reciprocated position in our ecology.
Itâs taken enormous and sustained acts of violence in the West to separate common humans from their natural place in this ecosystem we call Earth.
Wild Service is a timely reminder that abhorrent laws and offensive fences cannot be upheld forever against natureâs gravity and our pull to the earth.
Iâm excited to get back out there.
~
*For reasons I wonât explain, this is actually an extremely clever pun.
Huge thanks to all the paying subscribers who helped make this story possible. You know who you are. Iâm pouring out an oolong tea in your honour. Thank you. ð
If you enjoyed this one, then go ahead and tell me. Itâs the only way Iâll know that Iâm hitting the mark. You can tap the ⤠like button, write a comment, share the newsletter with your friends, or simply reply to this email.
Absolutely no obligation to do any of those things, but if the spirit moves you to reach out, then Iâm fully here for it.
If youâre not into the whole Substack subscription thing, then you can also make a one-off, choose-your-own-contribution via PayPal. Thatâd make my day.
As always, thank you for your eyeballs and thanks for your support. ð
Big love,
dc:
