There is something quite synchronistic about going through this uncertain, painful and frankly scary time in my personal life at the same time as Brexit approaches. The runaway trains on similar tracks creating a shared sense of defencelessness.
As I explain my health situation to people I see the shock on their faces. I notice that mostly they can’t even reach for an « at least... » ( I’m grateful for that ). Usually they are lost for words. And so am I. I have no convenient words to soften the impact; no cheery words to minimise it.
And then there’s Brexit. I vary between avoiding all mention of it and watching the news from behind the sofa-a strategy last used when I watched Dr Who as a child-, to avidly watching votes and amendments in Westminster holding my breath. Neither approach feels wise or healthy.
I recognise a similar paradox in how I handle each situation. With Brexit I try on the one hand to ignore it and recognise I can’t change anything. But another part of me, the campaigner, wants to lead the march to London to say this just isn’t good enough.
A sort of Edinburgh-Jarrow-London March including all of us remainers who feel unheard and equally those leave voters who want to be heard too. It was a cry of rage from the north of England. I’m sure they weren’t voting to be ignored, poorer or have reduced human rights. Our democratic deficit is a chasm and it’s just NOT good enough. We all deserve better than political parties paralysed by their own self-interest. There’s also a stark denial of the seriousness of this situation.
And then there is my own situation where I want at times to just stay still and be mindful and even netflixful! And knit-badly- too.
But then I engage with the outside world for fun and even for work and I feel lighter. I’m no longer simply a sick person, I’m engaged and stimulated and enjoying life. My constant challenge is to get that balance right for me. I’m also guilty of practicing denial of my changed circumstance and the seriousness of my own situation.
BUT if someone else is organising the March, let me know. I will be there on my mobility scooter driven by a combination of a need to be heard and a renewing passion for life, in whatever form it takes.
