Closer to home I notice I am finding myself avoidant of committing to action, I search for words but can’t seem to pin down what I want to say. I think of what I can do but beyond staying informed, signing petitions and donating to charities, I do nothing. To say ‘nothing’ is perhaps a little unfair to myself. I see the value and resistance in looking after myself and my kin and chosen few, in my rest, in my play, in my work. And yet, and yet.

Yesterday was International Women’s Day. I didn’t rally or march. I didn’t host or attend an event. On Social Media, at a familiar loss to find my own, I shared words and images produced by others. It jarred to see middle class white-women feminist celebrations that declared equality and empowerment for all… whilst picturing events that showed fancy drinks in decadent surroundings, and a sea of glammed up white faces, not a black or brown body among them bar the token panel member to give a nod to inclusivity. The hypocrisy was not lost on my lone white middle class feminist ass firmly planted on my sofa.

So, what to do, with energy levels low and the fear of getting it wrong getting in the way. I’ll get back to you if and when an answer comes my way. My heart knows the answer lies in gathering thoughtfully, in community. And yet, and yet.

I leave you with this photo I took on a recent walk…’finding safety, whilst feeling spikey, in a veil of mist’, or is it a fog…once again uncertainty reigns.