Making the habit …

***2 cups of coffee, 5500 steps, and one yoghurt topped with crunchy fiber***

Let’s begin again.

I’ve been busy as hell, y’all! As you may know, I co-founded Reproaction three years ago as a direct-action organization to increase access to abortion and advance reproductive justice. We've been busy since day one, and that has only increased since the Trump regime took power. Visit our website to find out more about our campaigns, read recaps of our direct actions, and register to receive opportunities to take action via email.

Anyhoo, I’ve missed writing here. It’s been 13 years, give or take a few months, since my first post! I’m pretty sure that was about the British royal family, and Lawd has that shit changed since 2005.

Blink.

I’ve been thinking about the habits in my life, some healthy and some not so healthy. Sharing the fine art of bitchitude with y’all is totally in the health column. So, I’ve quit smoking, picked up walking, started eating fruit on a daily basis, and I’m back here to bitch and plot and strategize and laugh with whoever wants to join in. 

Please be patient as I get back into the rhythm of posting.

I’d like to share a quick note about the power of community within movement spaces. Over the years I’ve shared a lot about the problems, bullshit, and destructive weaponized wokeness in progressive spaces that continues to work my last nerve even as it contributes little to the movement beyond drama.

But the community, y’all. 

The regular acts of compassion, support, encouragement, and solidarity that often happen offline or in private exchanges. Those, along with my amazing family and friends, are what sustain and nourish my soul. We all need that shit, now more than ever.

The other day, a dear friend called me because she was having a good day.

For real.

She was feeling good, enjoying work, happy with her partner and pet companions … the weather was beautiful, the crickets were jamming to a cool beat, and all her household appliances worked.

And she called to ask how I was, and share that there are still good days complete with happy dogs and cats, excellent coffee, sunshine filled skies, and dishwashers that wash dishes.

Even now, in the midst of our long national nightmare.

I should point out that this friend has had more than a few tough days. She’s an immigration rights activist, and she’s been so busy that I haven’t seen her in over a year.  So, it really touched me that she was having a good day, and that in the middle of that nice day she paused to reach out to me even though there was a pretty good chance I’d piss in her Corn Flakes with some drama or other happening in my world. That’s the very definition of sweet and generous, and it was delightful to talk to her and hear the smile in her voice.

Anyhoo, I’m just sharing to speak into the universe that these horrible fiends will not take my joy or all the nice days or my ability to be simply enjoy a nice chat with a good person.

It may come and go. At any given time, I’m frustrated and angry and scared and tired and disgusted and short tempered.

Okay, the short tempered bit isn’t new, but anyway.

There are also moments of laughter and joy and happiness and soothing pockets of normal.

Those moments matter too. They are our regularly scheduled reminders of what we are fighting for that drop down in the middle of the exhausting cycle of resistance to remind us that resistance is a stage, not the end goal.

Onward …