I think I could quite happily live in a commune. That was one of my main takeaways from last weekend when I went to the New Forest with a group of ‘Climate Freskers’ - people who facilitate Climate Fresk workshops.
I knew nobody going in, so there were a lot of new faces. It didn’t take long however for everybody to settle in - we made dinner together, played board games, and did some teambuilding exercises.
The next morning started with porridge and coffee, before we launched into a series of workshop activities. There was a lot of talking, some storytelling, lots of walking around in circles, and some silly exercises involving jumping around and enthusiastically saying ‘marvellous’ to one another. It sounds ridiculous writing it, but I think its ridiculousness is what made it enjoyable - it was wonderfully disarming, allowing yourself to be silly with a group of people you’ve only just met, knowing that everybody has willingly left their cynicism at the door.
We then split off into groups to do whatever we wanted, which for me involved following someone who proposed a walk to nearby Beaulieu. I was very grateful for the good weather, which bathed the New Forest in autumn sunshine, with a lovely breeze. It felt so good to be outside, absorbing the autumn sunshine and the forest air, a break from university work and screens.
The New Forest woods as the sun was setting
At one point, I spotted a tiny Goldcrest hopping between the trees. I ended up following it for about ten minutes, trying to photograph it as it jumped up and down branches. Goldcrests weigh about the same as a 20p coin, and are incredibly energetic, which makes them difficult to photograph as they rarely stop for more than a second before disappearing into another tree.
I couldn’t quite work out what this one was doing - was it looking for food, searching for nest material? It was the wrong season for that. Was it just doing a particularly enthusiastic workout?
I brought this up during one of our group circles later, and someone who was more familiar with birds suggested it was probably displaying territorial behaviour, communicating to other birds that it owned that little patch of woodland. I thought that was rather cool. Apparently Goldcrests also spend time hunting for tiny insects amongst the branches so perhaps my little friend was simply having a snack.
My new Goldcrest friend
One of my favourite things about the retreat wasn’t necessarily a particular workshop, person, or activity, but just the atmosphere of being surrounded by like-minded people.
After dinner we would split off and do our own thing, but in a community-focused way; so for example, somebody would announce they were playing board games, and ten or eleven people would follow them to the table, somebody would lead a session of yoga.
I remember one night I was reading while watching a group dance salsa in front of the sofa, while a presentation on community food groups was going on behind me. There was no pressure to join in with anything, but participation was always welcomed.
A brainstorming session
Climate change is a pretty overwhelming topic. It’s easy to get sucked into ‘climate grief’, reading about all the terrible things happening around the world, and feel a sense of incredible helplessness, which can often cause you to think: “What’s the point of doing anything?”.
But there’s only so much time I feel you can spend thinking about the scale of the problem until it gets too much. Spending a weekend with people who genuinely believe we can do something about it, who are curious, enthusiastic, and willing to spend time talking and learning from each other, felt like a really nice alternative option to grief.
You really do need to leave your cynicism at the door, and spend your afternoon jumping in circles - it sounds silly until you do it. Not every part of climate work is rigorously productive, it can just be a group of people cooking, eating, chatting, playing, and enjoying each other’s company.
I was very grateful to meet everyone I did and have every conversation I had. Most of all, I loved the opportunity to get away from my normal life to meet people from the ages of eight to eighty, from various countries, all sorts of backgrounds, and just simply learn from other humans for a couple of days. I had just the right amount of time alone with my thoughts, but there was always somebody around if I wanted a talk, a board game, or just some company.