This is a love letter to the Scottish land itself. And to the power of poetry and place.

The Corbenic Poetry Path lies just a short distance outside of Dunkeld, the gateway to the Scottish Highlands. It is open to the public, and is curated – and cared for – by the amazing people who run the Corbenic Camphill Community, a residential care facility for adults with learning disabilities.

It is a path that winds through woodland, across a field, down to the river, and back up to the road again.. punctuated by small acts of poetry.

Sometimes, fresh and crisp and sometimes weathered and gently worn (not unlike me … and how I’ve changed over the nine years since I first came here).

Early in the walk, the poem “Field Holler” invites you to consider what it means to feel at home, in a place.

Field Holler

Today I stand in a field and shout

It is good to stand in a field and shout

To stand somewhere you can call your own

Somewhere you can find a place

Somewhere you can call home

And shout

Last week, this poem hit home different, for a few reasons.

First, in the intervening years, I’ve learned something about neurodiversity (ND), and also about masking* – the conscious modification of instinctive and natural ND behaviour in order to meet mainstream (non ND) expectations around social interaction – and in that journey, I’ve come to accept that we all “mask” in different ways.

And sometimes – like last week – what I’ve got deep inside me, is a shout.

These last few weeks, I’ve had lots of thoughts: Big thoughts. Angry thoughts. Afraid thoughts. Ashamed thoughts.

And instead of shouting, I have been mostly silent.

There are many different reasons why we choose to stay silent, but one very significant reason for people who sit further from power, privilege and social norms – is because speaking your truth (or being your true self) runs a greater risk of direct retaliation just for being you.

And by retaliation, I mean actual emotional or physical harm to individuals.

Today, in the UK (including Scotland) people are harmed, every day, simply because of who they are.**

This has always been true, but for years, we all agreed this was injustice, and it needed to end…now, unless we start making a radical change in how we respond, we can only expect more harm, for more people.

And the end point: everyone – without exception – loses something of themselves, and of the better part of their humanity.

So what’s the answer?

For me, it’s the same as always… (even as I need to remind myself):

Find your field – the place where you feel like you can really be you

Make your mark – shout, or dance, or write poetry, or just lie on your back, flat against the earth – claim your place, breathe deeply, remember that you belong

Bottle the magic – not sure why I have fireflies in mind (summer, childhood), but try to find ways of bringing back the goodness of being you in a place where you belong, to ground you, in your work to do the radical change

…

When you get back, here are some places you can start to make a difference in Scotland, today.

Get marching at the Scotland Demands Better rally on 25 October – a family-friendly rally against poverty, and for a future Scotland where every household can thrive and prosper

Join the Women Against the Far Right Scotland campaign – to make sure that women’s rights are never weaponised by the far right against migrants, and keep the focus on a safer Scotland for all women

Join Let’s Change the Act – the campaign to decriminalise abortion in Scotland and secure women’s reproductive rights

…

Thanks for dropping in again on The Long View – I hope I brought you something useful, and brightened (rather than burdened) your day!

Do you have a favourite “field” (either literal or figurative) where you go to do your shouting, and find your peace?

Would love to hear about that (or shout outs for other campaigns or actions that are about welcome, and not exclusion) in the comments!

* On masking, I’m not seeking to minimise the effort and exhaustion that comes for some ND people when they have to mask in order to get on, or even survive. The effort is most likely enormous, unfair and sometimes quite destructive. I’m just saying that empathising with “masking” is accessible to all of us – because none of us are living, breathing 24/7 models of what socially expected behaviour looks like. For an autistic perspective on masking, here is a video from Andrew Burnett on what masking feels like, for him

** In my devotion to academic rigour, I started to research and summarise a series of 2024-25 statistics here, to support my point. Then it got too depressing, and I stopped. If readers would like to share what you know about how individuals and communities are harmed because of identity – racial , gender, religious, social class and so on – you are welcome to do so, in the comments.

This week, I feel some reflection on how we speak truth to power is timely as we ponder what to do when truth is publicly contested, undervalued and sometimes, intentionally suppressed – but the stakes for people who confront power remain high.

Power is real, and inescapable

You may not be able to see it, taste it, hear it, or touch it or feel it, but power – defined as the ability or capacity to influence people or things around you – is real.

And therefore, if you are speaking to someone who holds power over you, the first step is to recognise that you are engaging with a dynamic (and potentially unpredictable) force that poses real dangers to you.

Examples of places where people hold power over others include:

parent / child – supervisor / employee – teacher / student – influencer / follower – state / citizen

An argument in favour of the justice of a democratic system, is that voters should hold power over politicians, and therefore, the power dynamic should look like: “citizen / state.”

An inescapable truth is that in any group of people – ranging from family to society – some people will wield power over others. The more interesting questions that follow: how is this is done, with what authority, and in whose interest?

My point is: proceed with caution; power wielded against you can result in loss of friends, family, livelihood, home and possessions – and sometimes, life.

Power is always conditional

I believe that all people are born equal in dignity and worth. For me, there is no intrinsic reason why any one person should have power over another person.

Therefore, when confronted with people in positions of power, I find it helpful to break down the reasons why they hold power, because that helps me think clearly about whether or not I should respect it.

Here are just a few examples:

Physical Force, Law (and the State): many unequal power relationships are backed by physical force – or the force of law, meaning, if you disobey the state, for example, you can expect to face violence: civil or criminal sanction for that action. That can include significant and life-changing punishments, including: fines or imprisonment, poverty and homelessness, exclusion and exile.

The law also distributes and reinforces power in private relationships: for example, the law is responsible for upholding the power of parents over their children (up to a certain age), and of teachers over students (where education is compulsory), and of supervisors over employees (for example, in enforcing terms of employment). This form of power comes from the threat of state sanction.

Money and Resources: people who have greater resources than others – in a capitalist world, this usually means money or the capacity to convert assets into money – wield power over others. In some places, being able to offer resources that people need, like clean water or food or safety from others, is the key to gaining power over others. This form of power comes from holding scarce resources and being able decide who gets a share of those resources, and who doesn’t.

Knowledge, Skills and Ideas: people who have knowledge, skills and ideas that we lack or find attractive can also hold power. Examples include: scientists and doctors, teachers and engineers, farmers and chefs, plumbers and electricians, faith leaders and influencers… as well as artists, writers and musicians.

Our regard for their skills, knowledge and ideas gives them a kind of social capital – power, in short. This form of power comes from belief of people around them.

For example, a scientist whose discoveries are refuted, or a faith leader without a following, or a writer or influencer with no audience, holds no power.

My point is, power is conditional and even if you are on the losing end of power imbalance, it is helpful to recognise that also means that conditional power is vulnerable, in some way.

Many great stories – ancient and modern – are about tackling and toppling unjust uses of conditional power.

How to speak truth to power

So, as promised, here are some suggestions for speaking truth to power:

Consider your audience, and your aims: We may choose to speak truth to power because we want to see a change in current practice or behaviour. It might be that we want our needs to be taken into account; it could be that we just want to be better understood – for our experiences to be acknowledged.

But take a good, hard look: will your actions lead to change? Can you reach the right audience, and if so, do they have the power (or patience, or maturity, or empathy) to deliver the outcome you’re looking for?

Remember that most people with power, seek to retain power: Not always, but usually. If you are looking for people with power, to share power, also consider realistically the levers for change – how is their power conditional?

Identify the risks, and find your allies: Sometimes we choose to take action even when the stakes are high. Better to do that after a sound appraisal of the consequences, and building your own safety net / exit strategy / shelter (from the storm).

Have your say, and find your peace: Do your thing, and remember that at the end of the day, you are doing this thing for you. You can’t control how your words will be received and there might be quite a lot of turmoil, distress and backlash to follow… but the important thing is that you did the thing. That’s your contribution, and where you need to find your peace.

…

There is probably a second article, that needs to be written: how to hear the truth, when other people speak it.

But for today, I need to close out here, because there’s lots for me to do before the day is done

Thanks for reading The Long View again today, and leaving you with this sweet little poem, which I keep near the front door, so we see it every time when we home, and every day when we return again:

First published on LinkedIn on 21 February 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-speak-truth-power-jen-ang-wcbye

What exactly is Thanksgiving?

You can skip this part if you already know, but here’s a brief rundown: American thanksgiving is a celebration that takes place on the fourth Thursday in November and is a federal holiday, which means that most people get this day off work.

In the US, traditionally, people travel home for Thanksgiving dinner and take Friday off work, so they can stay through the weekend. That makes for a very busy week of travel, but also means that the holiday can have a strong cultural significance for some families, and communities – being a secular holiday that everyone can celebrate at the same time – and a more inclusive alternative to Christmas (which not everybody celebrates) for gathering with family and friends.

The Thanksgiving Story: Disney Version

As a child, I was taught the Thanksgiving story in nursery and primary school, sat listening as I made turkey decorations out of handprints on paper plates, and daydreamed of roast sweet potatoes with marshmallows, and Libby’s pumpkin pie.

We are told that in the 1600s, the Pilgrims (Puritanical Christians fleeing religious persecution) came from England, by way of The Netherlands, and settled in what is now New England. They were ill equipped for the weather, and also had no idea how to farm the soil.

Half of the 105 people who arrived in the autumn, died during the first winter. They were saved by a tribe of Native Americans who had observed them from afar, eventually took pity on them, shared clothing and food, taught them to farm, hunt and safely navigate the landscape.

To thank the Native Americans (who we were told to call “Indians” at the time), the Pilgrims held a feast and invited the tribe to celebrate a successful harvest and the survival of the colony with them. This was such a success, it became an annual tradition – of “thanks giving” to the people who saved their lives, and the colony.

Lovely, heartwarming and simple… but is it true?

Sort of.

Actually, not really.

The “Real” Turkey: English Identity, Slavery and Counternarrative

Most of us now realise that the “real” Thanksgiving story is a lot darker, but also takes in a bigger slice of history – and is a lot more human, and interesting.

It’s true that the Pilgrims were fleeing persecution in England, because they were religious separatists in the early 1600s, at a time when it was illegal to form any church outside of the Church of England.

They fled to Amsterdam in 1608, and mostly settled near Leiden over the following year. Leiden is apparently known as the City of Refugees, and a fun fact according to the city’s official website is that today, 3 out of 4 “Leidenaars” are descended from refugees. The Pilgrims lived free from persecution in Leiden but apparently (and I do find this difficult to understand) experienced their children growing up speaking Dutch as a loss of English identity and somehow felt it would be better to travel to the New World to found a colony there.

Some Pilgrims left Leiden in 1620, famously joining others on a ship called the Mayflower, which later landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Today, in the US the Mayflower Society is an organisation compromised only of direct lineal descendants of those who originally sailed on the Mayflower, which is quite something to own up to, given what I’ve just told you (and am about to tell you) about those people.

It’s true that half of those who landed on the Mayflower, perished through the first winter, and their lives were saved by the kindness of strangers – Native Americans who had observed their arrival but kept a distance for a good few months.

But who were these kind people?

Most modern histories refer to a pivotal figure: Tisquantum (or “Squanto“), a Patuxet from the Wampanoag confederation, raised around the area known as Plymouth, where the Pilgrims landed.

Squanto spoke English because he had, in 1610 or 1611, been kidnapped and forced into slavery by an English captain (either Thomas Hunt, John Smith or George Weymouth – possibly, all of them). The only account all the histories give for this, is greed. Either the English wanted to “show Indians” to their financial backers, or they wanted to sell slaves as as commodities to increase their financial return, or both.

Squanto and a number of other Native American slaves were thrown into a ship’s hold, taken to Europe and sold as slaves in Malaga, Spain. Squanto either escaped or was later sold to Master John Slaney in Cornhill, London, who became Master of the London & Bristol Company (known as the “Newfoundland Company“) and put him on a ship back to the New World, to serve as translator and negotiator in the interests of that company.

According to legend, another Native American sent for Squanto after the tribe made contact with the Pilgrims, because they knew that he was fluent in English and would be able to serve as an intermediary for the two communities.

…

If you are now curious about alternative history and counternarratives, I highly recommend checking out this from the National Museum of the American Indian: Rethinking Thanksgiving Celebrations: Native Perspectives on Thanksgiving

…

Bringing It Home: the kindness of strangers

Something I like about digging a little deeper into our common histories is that is is messy, but it is also more human.

We see and feel the fear, uncertainty and questionable decisions that people make when they are stressed and under pressure. We also see historians (and others) struggle to ascribe human motivations to the actions of people, after they have acted.

Did Squanto act out of kindness and generosity, exercising near superhuman ability to forgive English people for what they did to him?

Or did Squanto “betray his people,” for greed or out of a sense of self-preservation?

Did he even have a sense of “my people” – after everything he had endured, and all he had seen of the world?

We can’t know, but for me, the messy story is a better place to start from. And it’s the messy story I want to reflect on today, and how I will talk about Thanksgiving to my own children, and maybe to their children, in years to come.

So today, I’m giving thanks for:

the kindness of strangers

messy history

the human capacity to forge friendships, to endure, to take action to change their circumstances, and to tell and retell their stories, forever

Thanks for reading again this week and would love to hear about your own relationship to messy history, or the kindness of strangers, or maybe just the things you’re grateful for today. (This is also a Thanksgiving tradition, and a good one!)

And finally, here’s a Thanksgiving treat for you, the unstoppable lyricism of Bob Dylan presenting an alternative version of the arrival of the Pilgrims on the Mayflower

First published on LinkedIn on 29 November 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/giving-thanks-kindness-strangers-jen-ang-e34ke/

Maybe I’m projecting, but I feel like we’re – many of us, and for different reasons – struggling to find our mojo.

For some of us, it’s the political cycle and apprehension about what changes might come – or worse, not come – from our new governments.

For others, it’s the deepening impacts of a long period of economic turbulence, which has genuinely made many of us worse off – and means we have to work harder, spend less, and worry more about…everything.

And for young people and dreamers – those people trying to change the world – well, from time to time, we just hit that wall when we think that no one is listening, and nothing is going to change.

This feels tricky, but we’ve been here before

If this is you, I’m here to share a few reflections, and hopefully cheer myself up too!

Speak to your elders: thoughtful people do get wiser as they grow older, and one of the coolest things about humanity is that we can (if we choose to) give comfort to others by sharing what we have learned. Older people in your life, and in your communities, can bring perspective to whatever you’re struggling with right now.

Bring warmth and inspiration closer in: there are people and things that you love, and that inspire you. Think broadly, and don’t be too judgmental about what those things are. For me, at this time of year, it’s the feeling of sun on my face, the taste of cinnamon and re-reading a favourite poem. Bring close your comfort things, and do it intentionally, and as a priority.

Take the long view: progress can be cyclical, like the seasons, and not always linear, and increasing (like our performance targets or… umm, the stock market). Ask yourself what winning looks like over your lifetime (or many lifetimes) and try to unstick yourself from the urgency of today’s tasks.

Also, if you’re not seeing a connection between today’s task and what you want to achieve in life, well… there’s always this option:

Still needing a nudge? Some wise words from an elder: Wangari Maathai

Wangari Maathai was a Kenyan climate justice activist, founder of the Green Belt Movement, and the first African woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize – which will coincidentally be announced later today.

She was, like many activist legends, a master of long view thinking.

In her memoir, Unbowed, she reflected:

No matter how dark the cloud, there is always a thin, silver lining, and that is what we must look for. The silver lining will come, if not to us then to next generation or the generation after that. And maybe with that generation the lining will no longer be thin.

Thanks for joining us again this week for The Long View.

Are you feeling or this week?

Feel free to share what brings you comfort, and where you’re finding the stuff you need to keep you going.

First published on LinkedIn on 11 October 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-optimist-realist-jen-ang-ebcqe/

The challenge of doing nothing

I am famously bad at doing nothing – the Italian phrase “il dolce far niente” (the sweetness of doing nothing) is difficult for me to master. This was, in fact, one of the five or six things I identified that I didn’t like about myself, maybe 8 years ago now.

I saw that other people were able to finish a difficult day’s work and they would unwind with Netflix, gaming or maybe a little online shopping. I don’t really watch TV, and find it very hard to sit still (or lie in on the weekend) when just a quick scan around the room is a reminder of a dozen different things I should be doing.

There are crumbs on the table, that pillow needs washed. Did I remember to buy more coffee? I think I forgot to set up the Zoom for that meeting tomorrow.

Eventually, I get up and start doing stuff, not because anyone expects me to, but because it’s the quickest way to quieten that noise. I don’t know if I’m like this because of years of juggling family and work (sometimes as a single parent) – or if I’ve always been like this.

Either way, who I am, to the core, is someone who has trouble relaxing, and letting go.

Why rest matters

We all know this, but we’re also collectively bad at putting what we know into practice: rest is really, really important.

We need breaks to allow us to recover, physically and emotionally, from the stress that we put ourselves through – in work and study, in caring for others – for some people, in just surviving, when daily life is challenging.

We need small breaks, and we need big breaks.

We are presented, day-to-day, with some very common visions of what rest can look like: a morning meditation, a lunchtime stroll, a warm bath. A weekend away with your best friend, a week at the beach, a family road trip.

But when you picture these possibilities, do you really find them restful?

The truth is, what works for you, might not work for me. We all have such different requirements for stimulation or quiet, and such different incomes and spare time to plan and enjoy those big and small breaks – rest is not a one-sized-fits-all kind of thing.

Finding your own path to rest

I realised, a while ago, that it would not serve me to keep getting upset about not enjoying what other people seem to enjoy.

Instead, I did some reading* and a lot of experimenting, and I discovered some new things that I loved and also find relaxing: walking Munros and early morning coffees.

I also rediscovered some things that I have always enjoyed, but forgot about: reading fiction, and lying about in hammocks.

For me, rest appears to be a requirement mainly for outdoors, solitude and quiet.

For others, I know, it can look very different: cooking and making music together, drinks and dancing, playing sports. I like these things too, but for very different reasons.

Returning to: the importance of doing nothing

Hopefully, I’ve made a convincing case now that “doing nothing” is actually a question of perspective: we are always doing something, but to understand whether it is the something we need most at the time, it might help to be clear-sighted about how we are spending our time, what we’re hoping to achieve and why.

What do your ideal small and big breaks look like? And are you making time for what you need – to rest and reflect?

Thanks for reading again this week! I hope you’ve had an opportunity for a big break this summer – or are looking forward to one – and would love to hear about what kind of small breaks you take to get through your every day, and every week.

* For those of you who like a book recommendation, here are a few that changed how I think about the importance of rest: Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mere Mortals (Oliver Burkeman), Radical Rest (Richard Lister) and the Headspace Guide to Mindfulness and Meditation (Andy Puddicombe).

For those of you who prefer to listen, try the five minute daily Radio Headspace podcast.

First published on LinkedIn on 26 July 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/importance-doing-nothing-jen-ang-okrxe/

People think I’m a very calm person.

I’m actually just a quiet person.

…

Everyone panics, sometimes

This week, I’ve spoken to a lot of people about things that worry, frustrate and anger them.

At a work conference, people shared their worries about the impact of anti-migrant rhetoric on the UK general election, and also the burden of living as a racialised person in a racist society.

With friends and colleagues, I’m hearing the pressure to get everything done, before the month is out, and watching the slow crawl towards burnout.

At home, we try to be honest with each other about what worries us most – kids and adults – but that also means a painful clarity, sometimes, about how vulnerable and scared we can all feel. About exams, about making friends, about money – and about whether we’re ever going to be good enough.

Thinking is great, but overthinking can really stuff us up

Mostly, I don’t like seeing people I care about in distress. That’s why I talk about stuff, and why I try to help.

Here what I do:

• try to interrupt the cycle – take a deep breath, change your position or your location – maybe even just look out the window, or away from what you’re doing. Literally, try to get a different perspective.
• name and accept the emotion – you are upset, overthinking and anxious because you care about something. That something is important to you. You don’t have to justify that or feel bad about it.
• list the things you can control and list the things you can’t control – if you put everything on the “things you can control” list, start again. You’re not being kind enough to yourself.
• most deep-seated, repetitive worrying is also linked to uncontrollable stuff – external factors like what your competition looks like, what other people think about you, what you could have done or what you should have said etc. that you don’t actually have any control over.
• let go of the stuff you can’t control
• do something that makes you feel good

But wait…shouldn’t I be worrying?

Yes, and no.

I know it feels counter-intuitive to down tools and take a break, when you are urgently trying to get something done.

But if you take a step back (and see what your friends and colleagues see) you might realise that your efforts, whilst effortful, are more like spinning your wheels in the mud, driving yourself deeper and deeper into stuckness – when you need a change of perspective, a helping hand and a Plan B to get the job done.

(I have done this, literally and metaphorically. Thank you Mr Anonymous Man who helped me build a ramp from beach pebbles and then covered himself in mud while pushing my sinking van out of a place I should never have driven it. You’re a star, and apologies to your lovely partner – who probably had to help you wash all that mud off afterwards.)

Thanks again for reading this week!

Let me know if there’s something that really helps you stop those runaway thoughts, or if you have a friend or family member who has a great trick for helping you take a break, when you’re not seeing the big picture yourself.

First published on LinkedIn on 28 June 2024: 
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-stop-runaway-thoughts-jen-ang-fyloe

This week, is going to be a little bit briefer than previous editions (hopefully), as I’m travelling and therefore, distracted and more eager than usual to finish the morning coffee and venture out into the day.

No spoilers if I reveal that I am in Paris today, and loving every part of being somewhere different, and on holiday. I travelled a lot when I was a child and yet I still feel travel to anywhere different is quite magic, like how exactly is it possible that I get on a bus / train / airplane here, and I get off somewhere else entirely there – a place where people still talk and eat and drink and laugh, but in a slightly different way?

I am far from my home in Edinburgh today, but I promise I am pretty much the same when we travel much closer to home, too. It may be that, being a migrant to Scotland and not raised there – because there is always something about Scottish culture, custom or history I have yet to learn and therefore, living and working in Scotland (indeed all of the UK) – even after 20+ years has always felt like somewhere new.

We all love new things

This is true, I think. People love novelty – show a child a new trick, surprise your friend or your partner with an unexpected treat – usually you will be rewarded with the quickest and most unguarded of smiles.

We also all need fresh, and different thinking

My colleague Jamie Spurway is a brilliant facilitator and trainer who designs really impactful workshops on equality, diversity and inclusion. Jamie has a lovely way of reminding us that we can be limited in our perspectives by our experiences – because it is our experiences of being in the world, that shape our perceptions of the world itself.

Very like how my view today of the horizon from this balcony is hidden by the walls of the surrounding buildings, so too my understanding of what is real or possible can be limited by the fact that it is only me doing the thinking.

The problem is, failing to challenge our own ways of thinking means that our solutions can be flawed. Or our solutions might work well for us, but badly for everyone else. People who design stuff for others, in particular, – teachers, inventors, and especially policymakers – need to be better at thinking based in the principles of universal design. That needs new perspectives, and different thinking.

So how do we find new perspectives?

A wonderful thing about people, is that they are all so very different and new perspectives are therefore not at all difficult to find. It perhaps just needs a bit of habit or discipline to find and break through the barriers that normally stop you from doing so. These can include, fear of conflict, fear of finding out something you didn’t want to know and fear of rejection.

Some suggestions:

• quieten down – finding new perspectives is a bit like watching wildlife, or encouraging a reluctant child – you may need to dial down your opinions (and sometimes preferences) in order to welcome new views, different thinking and radical ideas
• ask unexpected questions – how does that work? why did you design it this way? who did you design it for? what is your favourite food? where would you rather be right now? why does this topic (x) upset you so much? how would your life change if you were right about (x)?
• listen and if possible, share – listening is hard, especially when what we’re hearing confronts our own beliefs, or may be hurtful to hear. But if you’ve started with the goal of finding out something new, and inviting conversation – that might make it easier to sit through what you’re hearing and, maybe, even sharing some of your perspective in return.

Not convinced?

That’s okay, and admittedly new perspectives are not for everyone. And there are some times in our lives when gentle investigation into differing views – even for the open-minded – is just too much to handle.

But I’m also thinking on the UK General Election that has been called for 4th July 2024, and the US General Election scheduled for later this year. I worry about an intensification of difference, and the rise in divisiveness of public discourse. I wonder if this is true, or if I’m just getting older and worrisome, and I also worry that such a shift, if real, is harmful for people as well as the functioning of the political and democratic institutions that are meant to keep us safe and support us all to thrive.

I would love to see, in the face of what is likely to be a noisy, opinionated and contested year in politics, a little bit of people-led resistance, in the form of many small conversations with the aim of seeking out new perspectives, and maybe, building new friendships.

I would love to hear your thoughts, and thanks for stopping in again today for The Long View!

And PS: if you aren’t registered to vote, please register here. And if you are registered to vote, please find someone who isn’t, and help them register too!

First published on LinkedIn on 24 May 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-find-new-perspectives-jen-ang-ubxxe/

I have often said: a small hill just next to Arthur’s Seat, the extinct volcano that looms over the city of Edinburgh.  Not being the main summit , very few people go there, and that means I usually have the place to myself – with its equally fine views across to the Fife Coast, the Pentland Hills and down the East Coast towards the North Sea.

This is where I go to walk, to think and to let my mind loosen and unravel, gently.

More than any particular view, I need space to take in the long view – a broad and uninterrupted horizon.  I think this is healthy for our bodies – for our eyes and our minds – but also for our soul. Doing this gives us literal and figurative perspective.

Where is your Long View?

Where you take perspective is probably quite personal to you.  I love mountains, and walking – so much so that I am slowly working my way through the Munros (the 282 Scottish hills over 3000 feet).

But you don’t need to go up a mountain. We find broad horizons when gazing out to sea, across open fields and in the majesty of a silent desert.  In great cities, like London or New York, you can find the Long View by crossing a bridge on foot and looking across the river, upstream or down.

There are also ways to take perspective, without leaving home.  Exercising your imagination by reading, listening to or watching someone else’s art, immersing yourself in a different narrative to your own – this is a kind of taking perspective and may also help you build empathy.

This Week in Perspective

On Sunday, I attended a brilliant, inspiring gathering of migrant justice and climate justice activists, part of a series of free workshops on Organising for Power by Tripod: Training for Creative Social Action.

We were invited to participate in collective art and sense making by sticking a figure representing ourselves on a poster, to visually capture where we are on our journey as activists.  Here was my effort:

I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s edition, and thanks for reading to the end!

Take a Mini-Break and Get Some Perspective

If you have 60 seconds right now to take a mini-break, check out this little website from Madeleine Chang: Look Up – I promise it will help you think differently, and get some instant perspective on everything else you were planning to do today.

First published on LinkedIn on 12 April 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/taking-perspective-long–view-jen-ang-jyjde/