Idealisation vs. Practice

Hi friends,

This week has been long and exhausting.

So, I want to start with a little invitation, as I do in many of the communal somatic chat spaces1 I host.

When was the last time you took a deep breath?

Can you take one now?

How about another?

Can you extend that deep breath into your fingers and toes, wiggle your fingers and toes and take a couple of breaths into that space?

How do you feel now?

These weeks have felt tremendous, exhausting, and, in many ways, par for the course for people and communities who continue to be harmed by these deeply ingrained systems of oppression that we are entrenched in. But there is a topic that has been on my mind since last year—actually, for a few years now—given my work as a former consultant in the fields of organisational development and racial justice. This thought is: what is the danger of idealisation and the layers of harm within it?

Before anyone comes for me, I want to clarify that by idealisation, I don't mean dreaming. Dreaming is essential; it is a tool within abolition struggles and movements to create space for visioning and dreams of liberation, striving towards better, just, and safer worlds for all of us. Idealisation is the upholding of principles in a way that restricts the potential for embracing nuance or the layered humanity that idealisation can sometimes impose.

We are living in exceedingly challenging times, and for those of us situated at the intersections of numerous systemic oppressions, we are enduring particularly critical periods that require us to organise communally around these issues. However, given my work at the moment, one reality I have been reflecting on over the past year, especially, is how feminist idealisation can sometimes inadvertently dehumanise individuals within feminist spaces. I have experienced idealisation as the elimination of the opportunity for curiosity and critical examination of how systems constrict the hope that idealisation can sometimes impose upon spaces.

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I am particularly curious about the ideals that people hold regarding feminist spaces (including collectives and movements) and feminist organisations and how we expect, because we say that these are feminist spaces, that they will uphold tenets A through Z, meet all of our demands, honor and make visible all intersecting identities, and respect the peoples and lands with whom they work. Even as I write this, the lump in my throat and the anxiety I feel about this statement is intense, as questioning these ideals is perceived as anti-feminist by many individuals.

However, we recognise that no space can be everything for every person. We know that it is impossible to meet all the demands and necessary examinations of intersecting oppressions and peoples. We know this to be true, and yet there exists an expectation that these demands be met regardless, overlooking realities, human capabilities, and limitations. This idealisation, in many ways, serves to dehumanise individuals within these spaces due to our unrealistic expectations, leading us to forget that it is the people within these environments who are constantly grappling with these tensions and intersections who must examine, understand, and continually are left to question why they are failing to meet such expectations.

Are you exhausted? Because I am.

Something changed when I turned 40, which was holding two realisations in front of me, one that I'm not here to make friends with everybody. I have a very tight-knit group of friends who are dear to me, and I don't anticipate that circle expanding anytime soon. The second realisation is that people will be wrong about me, and so I must protect my peace. No matter how hard I try, people will be wrong about me, over and over again, no matter my intentions. As long as I act with integrity and can rest my head each night, knowing I have lived according to my values and operated with integrity in my work and the spaces I inhabit, I am doing well; I am enough.

But this realisation and this mental peace have been very hard-won, and sometimes, when the dehumanisation becomes loud and my resource well is depleted, I forget this root and this teaching and gaslight myself for not upholding the idealisation of feminist principles.

So, what is the antidote to idealisation?

For me, it is practice.

With practice, there is so much possibility.
With practice, there is joyful curiosity.
With practice, there is tender holding.
With practice, there is an awareness of the other.
With practice, there is a possibility for belonging.

With practice, there is an understanding of the fact that we are human and do not possess all the answers. We do not know how to do everything, nor do we have unlimited capacity; we live in systems that do not allow us to take space and fully thrive. With practice, we understand our own limitations and hold them with humanity so that we may see where we can fit those puzzle pieces together to create a tapestry—stronger, more interlinked and woven together. With practice, we are able to advance the good work that our ancestors endeavoured in creating the feminist dreams they had for us and weaving our own dreams through this shared tapestry.

However, practice requires room, breath, and spaciousness to struggle together, cry together, and understand one another in a way that these systems do not give us the space to do.

Making room for ourselves and each other means making friends with our shadows, a practice that can be difficult, weighted, hard, and scary. Making room means that accountability is grounded in understanding how navigating these systems and ideals affects us all. The act of practice reconnects us to ourselves and one another. It opens up the possibility of seeing each other not as ideals but as individuals struggling together for our collective liberation.

Hope is a Practice.

Freedom is a Practice.

Abolition is a Practice.

Love is a Practice

I wish you well as you navigate your spaces of practice. I shall see you in those same spaces, weaving together the threads of our shared tapestry of dreams and hopes for the future. As we practice together, we make room for ourselves and create space with one another, interweaving - the me, the we, and the us - with tenderness and care.

So, friends, are you still breathing?

Can you wiggle your fingers and toes again and take a deep breath into that space?

I’ll be here, reminding myself that we are not ideals but rather human beings. It is within that humanity that I move forward with you.

With love,

Uma

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