It was the news of the abortion ban in Texas that made me want to write again. Texas, my home state, and my current state, at war with women. I guess writing, for me, has to come from somewhere deep inside. Anne Lamott says to write in order to find inspiration. I think I need to write in order to calm myself down.
This Texas thing, it’s been boiling for awhile. My husband and I have been back here for 11 years now, in a city we like but don’t love, surrounded by many people who view the world very differently. I’m all for that, the different beliefs, but it can get old, and depressing, after awhile. A few months ago we heard that the pro-gun law would be passed, the one in which anyone can buy a gun, without a license or even a training course, and we reeled. We didn’t realize that law would go into effect on the same day that the anti-abortion law went into effect, the one where any citizen can sue any other citizen for helping a woman get an abortion after 6 weeks of pregnancy.
And so, I’m sad. I’m sad after 18 months of sadness, of pause, of the world moving but not much exciting or good happening. I’m sad for all my friends with daughters. I’m sad for all that women have worked for, going down the drain in an instant, due to a few votes from, mostly, a few men.
I don’t know about you all but I did not find a fun new hobby during Covid. I did not cook. I did not make sourdough. I mostly worked, and drank, and ate food that came to my door, and watched the news in shock, and read the internet in shock. Good things did happen, of course they did, and at the same time, all in all, not much occurred.
I know how debilitating that is: the pause without actually pausing. The stopping of life without the ability to reflect on life. The mindless numbing of reality. Nothing good comes of that. And also, I don’t know how to break free. I think because of that, the current world, the current state I live in, it makes it so much worse. There’s no relief, there’s no light at the end of this tunnel, there’s no coming to a mutual conclusion.
I can often find the layer of hope – the light that stems from darkness. I’m wondering now if that light will happen in my lifetime. Is this what Texas is? Is this what the world is? Is it daunting to anyone else, or are we ignoring it? Or does it make no difference on our lives?
I was always the sensitive kid, and turns out, we are who we are. As my husband has said many times over, people don’t change. I’m still that super sensitive soul. I worry about our future, about the future of Texas, about the future after Covid, if there even is such a thing. I really, really, worry about the future of this country, of humankind, of where to go from here, of how to balance what really matters in life with what life throws at us day after day.
And so, I turn here. To this space. To this community. To this thing we call the inter web. Here’s part 2 of this blog, of these pages, of this story. This is the beginning of a new day, one in which we have serious choices to make: do we retreat or connect, do we stay or do we go, do we continue to speak up and fight or do we leave it on the table? Where do we go from here?