In the country of my dreams I have time.
I have time to energetically leap to greet a friend, arms waving, limbs properly flexible because I don’t spend all day at a computer.
I’ll have time to spontaneously say “Sure! Let’s go and dip our warm bodies into the cold ocean. Right now!”.
I’ll have time for deep care. Care for my home (imagine the dishes done every night!?). Care for my family and the space to be enthused by their projects. Care for my community and their fears and needs and joy.
In the country of my dreams we’ll have time participate. I’ll be able to say to my friends “Sure! Lets go and dip our warm hearts into cold politics. Right now!” Except politics won’t be cold. Our systems of governance will be warm because we’re proud to talk about love and care and wellbeing. And because we’ll have time.
Time to participate.
Time to share responsibility.
Time to talk and argue and play and experiment and imagine and renegotiate. We’ll have time to participate as thoughtful and engaged citizens because we know how democracy works. Because we know that it DOES work and that it works for people and planet.
In the country of my dreams we have time to remember the importance of putting the needs of communities and nature ahead of the wants of money and markets. We’ll be a country where the things we decide are important are available and accessible where they are needed, regardless of whether or not they turn a profit.
In the country of my dreams we’ll have time to listen to birds, wonder at bugs, climb trees, sing in forests, get annoyed by bees, and watch our steps to avoid the teeming mass of life around us. We have time to watch our children grow, laugh with the wisdom of our elders, take time out when we’re sick, lie in the sun because it feels good, and cry with relief that we brought ourselves back from the brink.
In the country of my dreams I have time to rest.
To care and be cared for.