untitled
rebellious ramblings + gratitude
I’ve been itching to get to the keyboard more frequently lately.
Finding time isn’t the challenge.
Finding energy is.
I’m glad to be focused full-time on the farm, and I still have a few part-time things going on in my freelance world too. It’s been an interesting season of transition and it’s been months since I wrote, so I don’t know where to pick up or begin to catch you up, but I figured I’d just start.
When I opened my Substack dashboard, I noticed I had a draft. Unable to recall what on earth I had even been writing about, I opened it to find it titled, “Untitled” and there was not a word on the page. So that’s where I’ve opted to simply, “begin again.”
Prior to this moment, a lot of my writing had become inspired of fueled by something happening in the political realm. It’s hard to avoid the news about politics when a narcissist runs our country and embodies, “all press is good press” to his core.
Being covered in dirt with a constant to-do list that only gets longer every time I water a potato plant has significantly helped my mental well-being, but also kept me from staying “up to date” with ALL the happenings.
I’ve gotten pulled into more local things. Like when the county decided to take the Minnesota State Flag up for a vote, and recently my commissioner stated he wasn’t opposed to a data center but didn’t know enough. Now I’m having breakfast with him later this week because I want to know the person representing me and I’m lucky to have that access in my small community.
I have plenty of commentary about politics and the way things are going right now. And, I’m continuously reminded how the internet sets out to divide us and by adding more opinions, commentary, etc without clear calls to action, it doesn’t really do a lot of good. Perhaps just sharing/expressing my thoughts can help someone think differently or become more open to the reality that there are a full array of experiences and opinions out here, but I find that face-to-face conversations yield better results.
I have spent most of my days asking myself, “what is within my control?”, and most days the answer is, “Not much outside of how I treat myself and others.”
As the dirt has embedded itself below my fingernails and into the callouses forming on the pads of my palm, I’ve come to realize how much energy I’ve spent being angry.
I’m over it.
I’m unclenching my fists and letting water run through my worn fingers these days.
I’m releasing my shoulders, dropping my jaw and taking a bigger breath before reacting.
I’m grounding myself in the belief that my anger serves a purpose and that energy is gold, so I need to be more mindful about where and how I spend it.
Life is too short to poison myself daily.
We are lucky enough to have spent two weeks in Hawaii earlier this year. My goodness is it the most magical, beautiful place that I’ve ever been to.
And, my heart broke a few times too. I know colonization has been a thing for a long time, but I didn’t realize we were still colonizing places in 1959 when Hawaii had become a state.
“WHAT?!”, I thought to myself as I read the history of the Hawaiians petitioning against being annexed in the late 1800s.
“Why did we do that?!”, I questioned as I continued reading on that the petition didn’t do anything.
Money. Power. Access.
At the beginning of the year, I updated my white board with the things that matter most to me. The topics or beliefs I hold that would become talking points if I ever decided to launch a political career. (As time goes on, I become less likely to do that, but I am still showing up to have an impact as a resident/community member.) My list includes:
Humanity over productivity
Healthcare for all
Food is a right
Innocent until proven guilty/otherwise
Diversity empowers all
Mental health as reform
Education accessibility
Small + Local Government
Weapon/Gun Regulation
Tax the rich to balance rural/urban communities
Protect our natural resources & lands
Less consumption, more sustainability
Then I asked a very well-read friend her book suggestions and y’all… she showed UP!
I started “The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together” on the flight to Hawaii and hot-damn that timing wasn’t intentional, but really helped me see a deeper version of this beautiful, tropical place.
If you haven’t read it, do it.
Then reach out to me and let’s chat.
A quote that stopped me in my tracks read: “If you’re in a society where you’ve already let someone go without shelter, what does it matter if they drown? If it’s okay for people to suffer, then it’s okay for people to suffer.”
What if we shifted how we measure things like productivity and efficiency, and instead started measuring based on the amount of residual suffering that would take place?
When I spoke up and sent an email to my county commissioner about the Minnesota State Flag, I was clear that I don’t care what people choose to do at home. It’s up to each person what flag they want to fly, their reason why and ultimately, it’s their freedom of speech and expression. I care very much that our county has opted to fan the flames of division by bringing it to a vote vs. holding the line of process and providing education on how people can request a state-level change vs. wasting county time.
When my commissioner requested that I call him after one of my emails, it took me two days to sort through some complex and complicated experiences that took place in my body.
Immediately, I thought I was in trouble.
Heart racing.
A sheen of sweat across my brow.
Re-reading the email(s) I had sent, wondering where I went wrong or what I did wrong.
I didn’t grow up challenging authority.
I grew up following the rules and getting in line.
A “good little capitalist”, as a dear friend of mine calls it.
Questions were for school-based learning, not big picture thinking. I recall being a small child in the back seat of the car asking, “But who made God?” on repeat the whole way to church. (It’s no wonder I’m now agnostic.) I’ve always been curious and I’m grateful my parents allowed me to channel that into educational opportunities.
But what if I would have been able to ask these big questions and have a dialogue that stayed nuanced and grey?
What if I would have been able to go back and forth and understand multiple perspectives instead of embracing that there is “right” and there is “wrong”?
Why did I think I was in trouble when a government official responded that way to me?
It’s because I have minimal experience speaking up to authority in the midst of ambiguity. I show up to an argument PREPARED! Full stop. Anything less is failure and failure is unacceptable.
It’s because I was rebelling from the ways I have operated my entire life. I was rebelling from the programming I was originally given. I was rebelling from the status quo and traditional people-pleasing ways of my past.
I ended up at the county meeting. I was the only one on “my side” of the issue.
Heart racing.
A sheen of sweat across my brow.
Re-reading the speech I had drafted assuming I wasn’t going to be able to speak until after the vote.
And then… they welcomed feedback BEFORE the vote and I threw my entire speech out the window and had to wing it.
From the podium, in front of a room with a handful of strangers that think differently than me, I spoke up. I expressed my perspective, my request of the board and then I walked back to my seat in silence.
It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop on the carpet, y’all.
Every other person speaking received applause as they took their seat.
Heart racing.
A sheen of sweat across my brow.
I reminded myself using inner dialogue that I wasn’t doing anything wrong and that I was OKAY! Reiterating the list of terrible, horrible, awful things I’ve survived up until this point and that I would also survive this moment.
A 2:30pm meeting is problematic for citizen engagement.
A lack of confidence is also problematic for citizen engagement. I can’t help but wonder how many of us have been raised not to rock the boat or stick our necks out. I can’t help but be curious about how many of us have inner rebellious sides ready to come out, just uncertain how to do it.
Growing food is my rebellion.
And I fucking LOVE it.
Every challenge that I encounter, every seed I get to plant, every moment I get to choose to be present.
In a world becoming ever-more digital, I’m choosing to become analog.
Lately, I’ve started thinking about deleting my online presence altogether, but I’m not quite there. (Yet.)
The more I’ve slowed down, the more I’ve come to realize that my energy has always been extracted for someone or something else’s gain. Sure, I got a paycheck or some recognition, but I’ll never get any form of ROI on the energy I’ve already spent.
If I consider myself a mine filled with the coveted resource known as; Adrianne Energy, then I better start considering how deep that mine can go. More importantly, I need to also start considering who I let do the mining.
Adrianne Energy is reserved for my extraction only. That’s meant I’ve said, “I’m sorry it won’t work out.” or “No, I won’t be able to participate/attend/join.”, more times than I ever could have forecasted up until this point.
Storing, and almost curing the energy within me has been my latest form of rebellion. (Sorry I’ve been so absent for y’all!)
As I reflected on the Hawaii trip and all I had learned, I found myself grateful for the rebels that didn’t let colonization erase their stories, history and beliefs. Without these storytellers, we would only have seen perfectly manicured golf courses and beaches.
What stories do I want to share? Those of a new AI-tool? Or, those about the caterpillar that formed a chrysalis under the tree in the field?
What would happen if we started thinking about rebellion as a way to protect instead of a way to oppose?
What would that look like?
What would you protect?
Wanna join me in some rebellion?
keep writing!!
We've (minnesota) have definitely learned the hard way that protection is rebellion.