I've been thinking a lot recently about what I want out of life, what I can offer the world and those around me, and what I need to grow and change. I think we all have.
The world right now is in flux. It is a scary time and scary place. We have violent men in power; rising bigotry and hatred; a global pandemic with hundreds of thousands dead; rampant transphobia and rampant racism; police brutality against those who dare to rise up for peace, for strength and for love. We live in a dystopian novel.
But the thing is that we always have, in many ways. Native Americans are still living through the apocalypse that decimated their ancestors and stole their land; African Americans are still living through the apocalypse that pillaged them from their homes and forced them into slavery thousands of leagues away. The legacy of horror continues. This is not new. But what we are seeing right now is a pinch point, an historical time where things could swing toward the better, the brighter future.
During lockdown I have been keeping away from people almost totally, as my grandmother whom I shop for and visit is 97 next week and I want her to see 100. I went to one BLM rally, the biggest protest I've ever seen in my predominantly white little conservative town. Bigger even than our ridiculously large Pride (we have a truly exemplary number of radical LGBTQ+ people for such a Tory stronghold). But I have not stepped out past that, as it was simply impossible to socially distance, and I am protecting someone.
I have been working hard on the campervan conversion, building the bathroom and starting the kitchen cabinets. I'm considering linking this blog with my real life at last, so may eventually post photos of it when it's finished. I've complained about it to you friends enough!
I started a new kids' novel about a trans girl who finds out she is a witch and navigates the difficulties of coming out to her parents and living as openly trans at school, and learns magic at the same time.
I've cut the pieces out for so many new items of clothing to sell, and am hopefully going to sew them all soon.
It sounds very productive but it doesn't feel it. Every step is three steps backward before I can move on, every day feels like a punch. I've been creating out of desperation, trying to justify my use of oxygen and food and space by making things.
A few weeks ago on the Solstice that came to a head. Dash and I were going to go out in the campervan and trip for the first time since last summer. But I couldn't fix the leaking skylight (again), I took hours longer trying to make it work than I should have done, and finally when the time came to leave, we picked up my mattress to put in the camper and it had been utterly ravaged by mould.
This might sound like only a minor setback, but to me it was breaking point. That mattress has changed my life. I woke up in the mornings without pain, able to get up and go whether I did my morning yoga or not. I slept soundly, heavily. I dreamed strange dreams and I felt rested. I didn't hurt. It was a £1800 mattress I found secondhand for £250. And I ruined it. It felt like the perfect coming together of all of my failures as an activist, as a child, as a partner, as a creator, a builder, an adult, a grandchild, a sibling, performer, writer, as a human being. Through my own negligence I destroyed something very expensive to replace that had supported me, cradled me, held me and become my haven and sanctuary.
So I had a pretty solid breakdown. I slid back into old habits, the clawing of skin and banging of heads. I had a headache for days. It felt so ridiculous. Such a small, insignificant thing to go wrong when compared with the huge issues facing vast swathes of humanity. But as we all know, often the thing that sets off the breakdown is not the biggest issue. It's just the last little drip that makes the bucket start overflowing.
Since then I have had several smaller incidents in a similar vein, and every time I mock myself for them.
But I am lucky. My mother and my partner, and most of my family really, are all very supportive of my, and one another's, difficulties. When I fuck up and spiral into a self-destructive vortex, my loved ones give me space to recover, help me to fix the problems, and unquestioningly forgive my mistakes. It's astounding to me, the amount of patience they can have with me, when in my own eyes I am a ceaseless burden and chronic fuck up. They hold my hand and tell me I am wanted, I am loved and it is a pleasure and joy to be with me. They help me to repair or replace or heal or learn. They love me.
And in this I come to see how similar we are. Because I do the same for them. When Dash makes a mistake and becomes convinced he's always just an accident waiting to happen, I reassure him, help him to fix the problem, and give him space to stew. When my mum panics two or three times a day over technical issues, I swoop in to save the day. When Nanny Ogg puts herself down because she believes the voice of her abuser, I swamp her with verbal affirmation and love.
We all take care of each other. We are all parts of the web. Or really it's more like a net, with no one person at the centre. Everyone looks after everyone.
I want to expand this network. Recently I have been trying something new in my relationships. Whenever I think positively about someone, I send them a message, even if it's only 'hey, how are you? Thinking of you'. This is a hard practice to get into, because it requires fighting executive dysfunction and social anxiety and depression to reach out even when I don't feel like it.
But I have frequently not done this, and people have died suddenly, and I have felt so guilty for not having sent those messages. Many, many loved ones right now are suddenly seriously ill or abruptly gone. And I can't afford to not send every loving message that pops into my head because the grief and guilt are just too much the way it stands.
When faced with that stick, it's much easier to pursue the carrot.
I have felt very alone and very grief-stricken for a long time, and so have many of us. COVID is just the latest upheaval and tragedy in many people's lives. We're almost numb to fear and grief, but not quite. We're just full up. But we are not alone, and it's up to us to remind other people that they aren't either. As we show love, so we shall be shown love.
So right now I am throwing nets wide, throwing love out into the world and reminding the people I like that I care about them. Because I want to forge new relationships, rebuild old ones, and create unity and community with the people around me. What does it matter what form those relationships take, as long as they exist and are nutritious to our hearts and souls?
The world is hard right now, and we can't survive it alone. But together we have a chance, and if we don't start now, when will we?
