I was on the plane home from my holiday in the rainforest. It had been a sublime seven days with limited internet and no TV or phone connection. On the plane ride home, I was surreptitiously reading the headlines over the shoulder of the man across the aisle from me as he scrolled a news site on his phone. His scrolling stopped at a particularly menacing caricature of Trump surrounded by Uncle Sam imagery. Looking at it, I was struck by horror at the thought of being subjected to another round of this man's lunacy.
Is this really the best the USA can offer politically? Last time, his campaign felt like a farce, a destructive joke, until he became president. When he was ousted, it felt like a relief the world over. That period became something we could look back on as that brief moment when the USA lost its mind. But to see him back, uglier and meaner than before, feels surreal.
Colonialism needs violence to survive, and I feel Trump's entire countenance screams violence. So, is that why he is back with a vengeance? Does colonialism need to up its ritualised violence to hold onto power at a time when the world is slowly waking up?
But consider the alternative to Trump. It's a weird thing to grasp, the idea that whoever the American people choose, violence may be the end result.
Increasingly, ordinary humans like you and I are not represented in the corridors of power. I've resigned myself to the fact that we're alone out here, and I'm okay with it. Revolution always comes from the people. I just hope that the life hasn't been completely squeezed out of us yet, and we will still rise up against the violence perpetrated against all of us.
The Revolution Will Be Personal
The good news is that our revolution will be personal. It will take courage, most definitely, but it will be a battle fought in individual hearts. While in the rainforest, I took videos of butterflies and birds for reels on Instagram. The stupidity of filming something for strangers who didn't care when I could be standing in quiet awe and having the moment for myself struck me like a bolt. I immediately took Instagram off my phone, and haven't touched it since. I will no longer rob myself of precious moments to support a company that openly allows people to view child pornography. I refuse to provide entertainment for a never-satisfied app that turns people into zombies and allows predators to destroy our youth. That is a quiet, personal moment of revolution.
Now that I'm home, I'm researching the best way to turn my home into a circular, waste-free ecosystem. I'm looking for small-scale farms I can support that don't engage in cruel animal husbandry practices. I'm refusing to spend my money in the supermarket duopoly that is destroying Australia's environment and economy for its own financial interests. That is another quiet, personal moment of revolution.
What else is a quiet moment of personal revolution? That's the question on my lips every day. That question, if asked by enough of us, will loosen the death grip of violence on our world. And these questions, too:
What decision can I make today that will bring a small glimmer of love into my personal space?
What ugliness can I remove from my life?
What responsibility can I take for my actions that might usher in positive change for me and the people around me?
Wishing you love and courage as your personal revolution unfolds,