sanctuary

 

what do i say, dear Reader, that hasn't already been said, in words more eloquent, more uplifting, more inspiring? i do not wish to dwell, in this space devoted to magic and beauty and simple, domestic things, upon the Orange Apocalypse and his evil minions.

perhaps that's wrong, and many in the online world are saying that it is - that we ought to be loudly public with our views and outrage* because when we aren't, we're letting the side down. or something to that effect.

i find this attitude to be profoundly unhelpful.

we are not all made to march. we are not all made to take up the megaphone and brandish placards.

but that doesn't mean we feel, any less deeply, the threads of terror and oppression that are pervading the communal consciousness.

it doesn't mean that i'm not sick with worry for people i've never met; that i'm not grieving to my core, for what is being engineered.

it doesn't mean that my mother's heart isn't breaking over and over again for the losses, for the separations, for the unbridled hatred.

but....

allow me the grace, oh Outraged People of the Internets, to act as i am able, to serve as best i can.

allow me to be small and quiet, please don't force me to shout when that isn't my way.

i think that anyone here who *knows* me, knows where i stand.

oh, i'll be keeping my eye on Mr.Trudeau, lest he falter under the onslaught of Agent Orange, but beyond that, what i do (and am doing) won't be blare and bluster.

my pen (or, less poetically, my keyboard) is my weapon of choice.

it is, as someone once said, mightier than the sword, and it's what i'm bringing to this war against inhumanity.

not grand and not noteworthy.

not likely to make any waves.

simply because i would prefer to make sanctuary.

so i just wanted you to know, dear Reader, that when, in the coming days of inevitable shit-storms, i come here to write about my garden, or my hens, or my current penchant for cake, i'm not being remiss. it's because i feel as if there (still) ought to be places of reverence for beauty and wonder and the simple things.

maybe even more so, given the unholy mess of things.

and my gift (if i may be so bold and grandiose to call it such) will be in the form of stories. humble little things, that they are, i believe that they do serve something of a purpose.

anyway, that's me.

be well and love one another.

fiercely.

~m. xo

*i'm specifically meaning on social media, not about what actions a person may be taking in their community -- writing letters, making phone calls etc. i read the other day that Figures of the Internet are being criticized for not speaking out loudly enough. in other words, if you write in a public space then you must make that a platform for your viewpoint.