Weaving Back into the Web
“What could it look like to really plan for this kind of future together? What would we need to reimagine about our lives? What kinds of new connections would we need to make with each other, with the land we live on, within ourselves?”
The fireplace my sharehouse affectionately calls “the little howler” burns in one corner of the lounge room as the visitors arrive. It’s fake, but elicits enough real and imagined warmth to provide a hearth of a kind for the dozen neighbours, flatmates and friends pulling up cushions and balancing plates piled high with homegrown radish, kale, rocket and Chinese cabbage. On one wall hangs a bundle of nettle harvested from a nearby backyard. Finding a spot in the circle, I’m suddenly nervous. I’ve called people here for a potluck conversation about climate emergency, deep adaptation and community response but suddenly want to reach for the bottle of red wine someone has placed on the table.
, I remind myself. Because
