by Katie Liljedahl
A Thank You Letter to HopeDance for manifesting late night bongo hoe downs, revealing the absurdity of industrial agriculture, and for giving me Richard Heinberg.
Dear HopeDance,
While studying English and Creative Writing at the College of Charleston, I had no idea it would lead to three years of years of cutting the crust off peanut butter and jellies, swimming in tinted yellow kiddy pools, and kicking money stealing arcade games at Chuck E Cheese. However, surprisingly enough this is what I have been doing as a nanny for a mother with three children all under the age of ten (one who has special needs), a husband who travels for work, a full time job, and a TO DO list that puts my six year old Christmas list to shame.
Besides the occasional tantrum they throw when not allowed to “dumpster dive” (or worse, the terrifying moments when I sound like my mother- “This room is a disaster! You have to keep track of your stuff! Did you do your homework?”), I love my job. There have been times when I find myself face down in the sand playing mommy otter at Goleta Beach with three sand covered kids who scream with petrifying glee at every wave that approaches, and I thank the heavens I am not stuck in a cubicle glued to Microsoft Excel and kissing corporate ass.
My first love will always be writing. I have recently rekindled this love affair thanks to HopeDance’s ability to make me red faced with anger, lustful for celebratory living, eager for the feel of dirt in my hands, and most of all desperately frantic to write down my whirlwind of thoughts concerning these terrifying and simultaneously magical times.
I am an avid reader and have subscriptions to Adbusters, ODE, the Economist, and Buddhadharma. So why am I such a nut for HopeDance? Well, to put it simply...You cut through the bull shit. HopeDance is never irritatingly optimistic at the expense of subverting reality (Ode I love you but we cannot pacify our fears with the idea that buying eco shaped water bottles can be our contribution to healing our planet and providing a livable global temperature for our grandchildren), nor are your pages filled with heavy apocalyptic doom and condescending skepticism as Adbusters is often guilty of. (FYI: I love Adbusters and owe them much gratitude for their role in my realization of how saturated I was-and often still am- in materialism and the ridiculous, robotic, rat race for stainless steel appliances and ride on lawn mowers). I respect and enjoy the publications I mentioned above, however, HopeDance seems more real, grounded, and tangible all the while honoring the sacred and including the spiritual component in the quest for creating new paradigms that will shift us towards evolution and away from despair.
It is my crinkled, highlighted, sandy, mile high stack of HopeDance issues that are a prerequisite to have on hand before any major writing session. There is no end of the spectrum of our current "situation" (for lack of a better word for I have not figured out whether to call it a crisis or awakening) that your publication won't dare tackle.
Through your pages I explored the lost art of midwifery, the significance of 2012, the growing movement of simplicity circles (I also have Linda Buzzell and Larry Saltzman of Santa Barbara to thank for that), the names Richard Heinberg (this alone was life altering), the Hubbert curve, the neocons project for a new American Century, green washing, local trumping organic, the infestation of high fructose corn syrup in our food, and the pagan idea of transcending a masculine God.
Your issues prompted me to Google such things as: Peak Oil, Post Carbon, Watershed, Transition Towns, Permaculture (hopefully there will come a day when Microsoft Word doesn’t put its red squiggly underline under permaculture like it just did), Nature Deficit Disorder, and Sacred Activism. Without HopeDance I wonder if I would have ever asked myself “What is really the point of a grass lawn?” “Where does my water come from and where does it go?” “How far away did these bananas I am eating come from?” “Am I what my meat eats and if so what does it eat?” (Since reading the answers to this reminded me of flunking chemistry, I decided to put meat eating on hold until I can recognize the ingredients of its diet). HopeDance pushed me to ask: “Can I buy used?” “Do I really need a new shirt?” (This one was embarrassingly a struggle because I really like shirts). And one of the most pressing and dire questions that vibrates through my heart is “Can we really teach the next generation to save the earth without first letting them fall in love with the earth?
And I won't even get started about your book and film recommendations. (Okay, actually I will). If it wasn't for HopeDance I don't know if I would have ended up with the soundtrack for One Giant Leap which lead to a wild, bongo drumming, foot stomping, late night African infused hoe down at my campsite at the Reggae Rising festival. Without watching In Debt We Trust and Maxed Out, would I have cut my credit cards, wrote a scathing letter to Citibank, and took back control of my finances? Without the Business of Being Born would I even have considered home birth (never mind be vehemently against drugs and traditional birthing methods like I am now).
HopeDance presents living outside the box as the most logical thing to do in order to, not only survive, but to live our best, most whole, and complete lives. It makes you stop and say, “Why is everything that is labeled ‘alternative’ make the most sense?” It also gives you the relief that others are also flabbergasted by this insanity, are ready for change, and would like you to come along. HopeDance says, “Hey, let’s stop bitching and put our heads, hearts, and hands together,” but never at the expense of hiding the dangers that linger. The wonderful ecopsychologist Joanna Macy (I hope someday ecopsychologist won’t be deemed by Microsoft as unrecognizable either) writes that in order to experience any type of healing, including the healing of ourselves and the planet, you first must acknowledge despair. Some publications attempt to do this but end up hostile, angry, anarchists who love to bitch more than work.
Other publications ignore the wounds and convince us that buying organic cotton shirts will save us when really we should be asking: Do I NEED that shirt? (Don’t get me wrong, organic cotton is fantastic but I feel an equal emphasis needs to be put on the concept of LESS). These publications are often too easily labeled new age, liberal, or irrelevant.
Thank you HopeDance for your pure out of the box relevance and your ability to shake me from my writing slumber.
I hate those writers who say they have no time for writing, but I have no time for writing (and yes I hate myself for saying that). I have been working on some pieces about debt, pat racks, simplicity, meditation, yoga, consciousness, and my recovery from materialism. I would love the opportunity to share them with you.
Sincerely,
Katie Liljedahl
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