It takes a while to get dressed when being dressed means wearing a pair of tights and thermal leggings under trousers with a vest, thermal under-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt, jumper, cardigan, hooded jacket and sheepskin waistcoat, plus 3 pairs of socks, leg-warmers, scarf, hat and gloves. And that’s just for the daytime.
Occupy is training in ‘radical patience’. I’m not sure who coined that term but it’s a good one. Patience with the challenging behaviour of a minority of camp inhabitants, with the fickle media and the grinding justice system. Patience with direct democracy and consensus decision-making. Patience with the process and the laborious getting dressed.
Good things happen – Arctic ice floes, Occupied Justice trials, vibrant General Assemblies. Occupy National Gathering in Sheffield was inspiring. But it feels like a waiting game now. Waiting to see if the court will hear our appeal. Waiting to see whether we’re to be evicted… this week, next week, one week, two week…
There’s an odd, unsettled energy in the camp. Some people seem to be in fight-or-flight mode, adrenaline buzzing around around their bodies, nowhere productive to put it. Others are determined to make every day count; to prepare, to protect, to strengthen relationships, to celebrate our achievements.
It’s a funny old time. When the journalists ask how I feel, I say – “excited”.
I am excited. We’re about to be born from the womb of St Paul.