To be honest I am not sure what to consider natural anymore. The earth operates as a closed system, true? And unless you are an alien we were all born out of, and fed by the substances of the earth. Right? So is everything natural then? Why be concerned about artificial anything? Consider this:

Male sperm counts worldwide have fallen by 50% since 1938 and no one knows why.

Human breast milk often contains more toxins than are permissible in milk sold by dairies.

At death, human bodies often contain enough toxins and heavy metals to be classified as hazardous waste.

This frightens me. I ask, what have we done to the planet, and how will this affect us, the planet's people? This fear, my grief, my guilt and shame about the current devastation, this ecocide happening all over the world feels like a natural response to the state of the planet. 

Hot tears fall down my cheeks by midnight as I stand outside an open cut gold mine and feel the vibrations within my body as the machines rip up the earth. I stand in a logged coup of once old growth rainforest and stare at the borders, the fragile spaces that were spared the chop- till next time. The river is poisoned, we can’t drink the water, what will we drink when all the water is sick? Walking through the Anvil Hill site proposed for another dirty open cut coal mine. How? How can anyone justify ripping up this earth, destroying this precious ecosystem? This tomato was gased, by what? Is it safe to eat?

This pain that I feel, that is real, that I work through, and honour tells me that I am connected to the earth on all levels. I was born out of the earth, I eat the earth, I drink the earth. I am quite simply water grounded. Soul in motion. Gravity is the earth reminding me of my roots. The pain of the earth is also my pain. Poison the earth and you kill my flesh, my soul.

There are the screams in the night. Sometimes I brave to listen, and I hear:

The health of the planet is the health of the people. 

To restore the earth will heal the mind. 

The key to my happiness, health and survival is through joining with the people to protect the earth.

Begin it now, the future is not guaranteed. There is pain. The children are dying.

It also feels natural to act, to react, resist, to protest, to hope and to believe with all my heart that another world is possible. Most importantly to build, to create and participate in building a world that honours the dreams and needs and beauty and souls of the people. A world that respects, that loves, and values the raw beauty and fragile balance of the earth. A world that has a future worth longing for.

Some people call me radical. It is not radical to long for clean air, want fresh water to drink and a safe environment in which to live. It is not radical to demand that those responsible for the devastation of the planet bear responsibility and change their ways. It is not radical to stop work, to dance in the streets, to paint an ugly city coloured liberation.  It is not radical to stand up to injustice, to demand that wars fought for oil and empire be seen for what they are, and that they be ended. It is not radical to dream of a better way of being, of doing, of living that is satisfying to the heart, the soul. It is not radical to join with others in direct actions in defence of the earth. It is not radical to riot in the streets and oppose sexism, racism, class inequality and oppression. It is not radical to believe in the power of the people to overthrow a corrupt system and build a better world.

No. They are survival instincts. Protest, action, dreams and hope are the only way that we can guarantee a future worth living for.

I am as radical as your granny knitting on the porch. And that’s as radical as refusing to engage in the logic of a modern technocratic society that demands that we do more, make more, eat more, consume more. Kill ourselves faster.

Nannas unite.

Nissa Lee