I cannot seem to finish the posts I am writing. I lose interest with tasks if I do not complete them in one pass through. It is not exactly disinterest which I associate with depression. It is sort of a numbness. Rainy and cloudy days in Tucson, Winter’s arrival, might explain my blah-ness.
Reacting to a life in which I am, almost daily, realizing things I should have asked of someone in my family before there was no one left to ask might explain it.
I am disturbed by police getting off without even a ruffle of a real brush with justice for murdering young boys and men with dark skin. The racism that is everywhere in America along with the relatively recent militarization of police forces combines into a really frightening and alien landscape.
My innermost, Pollyanna, self still believes in the goodness that all humans are born with, no original sin for me, nope, and no matter how lousy things get, and believe me, I know lousy, I have to believe that people are inherently better than they seem to be if we get our information about humanity from the airwaves and digital papers rather than from the individuals that make up humanity.
I know that individuals are good, mostly, and that individuals can have substantial influence and change the course of major processes, sometimes. I also learned many moons ago in school that behaviors rewarded by intermittent reinforcement are the most difficult ones to extinguish. The fact that something does not work all the time does not deter me from trying to make it work.
Somewhere deep down inside, I also know that women can successfully change the negative course of where our world seems to be heading. If my voice can motivate or encourage one person to act to build a better world, shouldn’t I do it? I’m wondering what I can do that will be or promote the most significant and positive change in the world.
I keep thinking that the amazing women I am lucky enough to know could do amazing things if we engaged in a collective effort.
I want to get re-involved with NOW that has sagged a bit here in Tucson with the new chapter’s founder’s ill-health.
I also have thoughts of organizing a month long blogging fest that caters to the intelligent, concerned, old enough to know better woman writer. Not necessarily a write every day blog challenge but a “challenge” with options to engage every day, every weekday, or on weekends.
Or maybe to organize a get together of women to discuss writing, wisdom, and what they feel they as yet have to write at a lovely Tucson resort. NOT a “conference.” More like an intimate brain trust retreat of sage women writers that happens to take place by a pool with drinks. No how to sell your writing for cheap to corporations.
I will plot and scheme my way out of the darkness into a better world. Been doing it all of my life.