So, stating the obvious, I’ve yet to get a blog post up this month. I’ve been trying to focus my free time on finishing up my manuscript, which (both conveniently and terrifyingly) seems super relevant since the election. After all, what once seemed implausible, at best, in overall concept, now seems downright probable. And, in short order, nonetheless.
That said, writing has been tough; feeling creative and hopeful has been tough in light of all that we are facing, so editing has plodded along at a painfully slow rate. Still, I persist, because I know that courage and resilience is what is required in these dark days (both personally and politically).
But, despite now feeling like I wake up at the epicenter of hell itself every day, as it turns out, living in our nation’s capital also has its perks. Like yesterday, for example.
I have honestly never participated in a protest in my life, nor have I ever felt particularly compelled to do so. Walking in the Women’s March on Washington, however, has been one of the greatest privileges of my life. Being there for people who could not, and standing with and for all of us, has been an honor. I am so unbelievably proud of the millions of women, men, and children, not just here in DC, but across the globe, who came together on that day, A HISTORIC DAY, to send a clear message to the new administration: women’s rights are human rights, and you will not take them away from us without a fight.
And just like that, HOPE has been restored. Creativity and light and life have been restored. May it continue, may it grow, and may it illuminate the way forward.