During the next few weeks we’ll be publishing some of the stories and photographs from our latest issue. This is the third in our four-part 2013 pilot and each of these editions has followed a blueprint, set down in our preview issue (published June 2012). Here is our Autumn welcome: a short introduction about oceans, collaboration and closing the gap between the story we tell ourselves and the ones that are really happening.
Most newspapers tell us that economic progress is the only story we should live by. However it’s a story whose consequences have been edited out, and increasingly we find ourselves caught in the gap between the story on the page and the reality on which it is based.
Transition Free Press is a paper that aims to ‘join the dots’ and bridge that gap. We do this because, in common with other grassroots documentary makers, writers and activists, we realise a different way of interacting with the planet is urgently required. A sea change within and without ourselves.
Our main story is about co-operation. The story of progress claims life is naturally competitive, which justifies many of its cruelties and hostilities. In spite of many studies that say such ideas are neither correct, nor healthy (even Darwin observed that co-operation and diversity is one of the principles of ecological resilience), the ‘red in tooth and claw’ rule prevails.
What we aim to show in our pages is that another culture is underfoot, a humbler and kinder narrative that honours all peoples and creatures, shapes and colours of this earth, and has more in common with a coral reef than it does a coal mine or a shopping precinct.
This issue is framed around carbon reduction because it’s our access to power that enables the story of progress to continue, the myth of unlimited energy on a planet whose limits are the measure of all earthly forms. The ecological and social dilemmas of this century challenge us to measure up as real human beings. Will we learn to co-operate and work together, agree to lessen our use of resources and manage our commons wisely?
Sometimes you have to let go to experience what a humbler world can feel like, to find what you had in your hands all the time but had forgotten. You have to walk out into the neighbourhood to collect cherries, rather than buy them wrapped in cellophane. You realise then you are not there just for yourself. You are going to give some of those foraged cherries to the ‘strangers’ next door and your local Abundance table. You’re going to ‘reskill’ your initiative and teach folk to bottle some of those cherries for a winter’s day.
There’s a whole new relationship happening that makes sense of you, the people you live among, the trees, the seasons, and mostly the wild earth that is our shared meeting place – a planet that thrives on co-operation, collaboration and communication between all of its inhabitants. Every time you make a link, you mend a thread that was broken, the gap between a fairy tale we once believed in, and the truth of the matter. This is what the new real world feels like. It sounds like the ocean. It feels like coming home. Welcome back.
Charlotte Du Cann, Editor-in-Chief