I flip on a light as I head for a shower. That’s a first. It’s been light for months and now light is shifting. I don’t need the light, but I choose it, I want it. As I curve, like the staircase up to the next floor I choose that warm glow. I almost heard the light, the wee thing, chuckle. I am back. Yes, I said, and paused and by the way you will be pivotal for endless months because Spring is like a teenager who never wants to get out of bed. I’m not sure she got that, but we do. We can bow down to the unknown, to fears, to olding pains or to the sense of living in a world we don’t know, nor understand. I am very aware of the bow-down capitulation. It gets me every single day, no, doesn’t get me, but it rises like a rising thing and I am very aware very aware that it is just me against it. And I am, against it.

Most people I know about live on the surface, paddling like mad, looking for shore. Think about it. How often have you actually have a real deep conversation with anyone? Quick hallos on the school run, eyes checking for how you look as ‘mum’, the quality of your clothes, boots, makeup. For men, the whole ‘right way’ to look, to impress, regardless of financial constraints. Surface paddle. I see that it is important, but it is only sustainable if a person decides to be owned.

I am with those tho swim against the current because that is where something happens. It is never about money, nor greed. It is singular. One person just swimming the other way, brave enough to risk, wild enough to break out. As long as we bow down, as long as we believe what ‘they’ say, we will be safe for a while, but not for long.

Buying, social media, all of it, can consume a soul.

It isn’t real. What is real is connecting with granny, lighting a light on the stairs, minding the chickens, covering the bee hives in a storm, sensing that storm, forming a cupola. However, I completely get that I would have wanted the best high-top sandals, the lowest cut skinny shimmy of a dress. Such a confusing time.

I’m a confusoball.