I’m sitting atop a massive stone in the middle of el Río Mameyes. There was a big storm very early this morning, and before that about three straight days of rain. The river is high, and it’s sucio. The water is nearly opaque with suspended bits of earth the flooding tributaries carried to it; the cascadas rush with more force and the current pulls harder.
As I sit here watching the roiling brownish water, I reflect on the morning news podcast I listened to on the drive here. The reports about the $10.5 billion spent on campaign ads that deliver depressingly dumbed-down messages with the goal of eliciting fear and/or outrage; the Twitter (do people actually call it ‘X’ now?) threads tricking everyday people into thinking voter fraud is widespread and a coordinated effort; political fights breaking out at work and employers mainly concerned with measuring financial losses due to the resulting “decrease in productivity.”
And that’s just a few tiny snapshots of a few big disasters in one particular country.
A country in which the political situation looks a lot like this river: an extremely fast-moving, dangerous mess.
This is why I don’t usually watch/listen/read the news. Because I know how easy it can be to get caught up in the current. To get sucked in and completely lost in a tumultuous and painful ride down the rapids. To feel powerless in the face of this great, churning, dirty river. To start to believe things are inevitably heading in only one direction: downstream.
It’s also tempting to try to escape it, to hike up into the mountains. To go somewhere far away where I don’t have to see this scary river, where I can’t hear its rush.
But the smooth, sun-warmed boulder on which I perch reminds me that there’s another way. It reminds me that I have a refuge: that I am a strong and stable source of energy no matter what is happening around me. When I am here, centered and calm, I can acknowledge and mourn the state of things — and I can refuse to be fearful.
On this boulder I remember the importance of damage control — making the necessary moves to try to achieve the least-bad outcomes within the oppressive systems we need to transform. Because as much as I was to say (scream), fuck the system!, our (broken) structures still have massive influence.
I think about who, under our next president, will be appointed the head of the FDA, who has the authority to make it easier or harder for women to access birth control; or the EPA, who can make it easier or harder for our land and waters to continue be abused.
And on my big supportive rock, I also feel my agency to not be drowned by the current. I can be here, warm and dry, grounded in my power to shape a different future for myself, my community, our coming generations.
As I planned my new workshop series, I wondered if it was crazy to start on election day.
Wait a week, until things have calmed down, I thought.
But it’s obvious that this river is going to be muddy and tumultuous for quite some time. So why not start now? Why not have a place where we can climb out onto our warm stones together and connect to our power to create the lives we want to live?
Yes, this is a writing workshop series I’m talking about. I don’t underestimate how empowering strengthening our voices, valuing the process of making meaning of our experiences, seeing ourselves and being seen on the page can be. These practices can bolster our foundations, help us build stability within ourselves. In spite of everything, they can open us up to what I think is our greatest power, our most potent tool of transformation: the capacity to create.
So starting Tuesday, you can also vote for yourself! Here are the deets:
The Power of Your Voice
Write in community & nurture your inner creator
Tuesdays @ 10-11:30am EST (Nov. 5 — Dec. 17)
Thursdays @ 4-5:30pm EST (Nov. 7 — Dec. 19)
*On the week of Thanksgiving, Thursday’s class will be held Tuesday, 4-5:30pm
[ Cost ]
Donation-based — I welcome what you are able to share each week 💗
[ Commitment ]
Drop in! Come to as many/as few sessions as you’d like, no pre-registration required. Simply sign up to receive weekly emails with the upcoming theme and the link to join: email me katherine.rapin@gmail.com (or reply to this post, or leave a comment) to be added to the list.
Each week, we’ll work with a theme. Here are some examples:
· Desires, dreams and intentions for your writing
· Unblocking: understanding what’s getting in the way and how to overcome
· Feeding your inner artist
The same class will be offered Tuesday & Thursday, but you’re welcome to come to both sessions each week if you desire.
More about what to expect:
+ writing prompts to spur ideas (starring my magical jar of inquiry 🍯✨)
+ exercises to overcome creative blocks
+ encouragement to share your work (read aloud) in supportive community
+ dance breaks!
+ practices to bring more flow to your writing
+ tips for building your writing practice with routine & ritual
+ building relationships with inspiring women like you (This first series is open to all those who identify as women and/or non-binary. I look forward to welcoming men in a future class series.)
Again, to stay in the loop, reply to this email, leave a comment, or email me @ katherine.rapin@gmail.com. And please be in touch if you have questions!
That rock of refuge is a nice piece of writing katherine
Re state of the world i ve often wondered if there s a sweet spot of population where governance works and beyond that works less and less well And whether 8 going on ten billion is a bit much Many many signs thst it is
Meantime if there is one thing maga and dems would all agree on is that we ve gotta keep pursuing growth
Even my own liberalish university wishes i d talk less about degrowth
So doing lots of biking and kayaking my rocks