Thwack! Referendum results. Pow! Unelected Prime Minister. Kapow! Death of a long-time friend. Kaboom! flu. Clang! Can’t live where I had been planning. Boom! Computer dies. Crack! Hard Brexit. Bam! Trump. Whack! Laptop dies. Whump! Suicide of another old friend. Crash! Death of an ex-boyfriend’s mother. Blam! Stinking cold. OK, I’ve seen some fantastic dance, but.. [whimpers].. they’re really going to build a wall, we’re selling arms to Turkey, our PM won’t stand up for human rights.
Like many people, I imagine, my head is aspin. I weathered the news of the referendum, adopted contingency plans for my future and after months of painful soul-searching thought I was sorted for the time being. But life is throwing up curved-ball challenges at such a fast pace that I’ve not finished reeling from one hit by the next.
My internal risk manager categorises the reasons I’m reeling. None of that helps.
I’ve had my identity threatened (I am a British European. Not one or the other but both), my belief in my culture shredded (I knew there was bigotry but not its extent), my future livelihood trashed (post Brexit travel photography and writing will be very different), my family and extended family threatened because partners, children and family network are from different European countries. How can I choose where to live when my loved ones are spread over Europe and we’ve no idea the extent to which Brexit will complicate our lives? I’ve been forced to reassess good friendships. Intellectually I can deal with what I see as the wilful blindness of close friends to the effects on our economy and lifestyle, but with the best will in the world it’s hard to feel close to people whose vote threatens my very identity and the things I hold dear, and I’m faced with the fact that no matter what I do for others there are bigger, more important, more urgent fights.
So what do I do? Do I move back to Europe? Do I stay in London? I’ve worked hard at being part of my local community – and love it – my heart drops at the idea of starting over again. Do I base my decision on healthcare? The NHS is clearly failing, I never fully recovered from chemotherapy 8 years ago and mainland European countries’ cancer survival is much better than ours. Should I still be working to help dancers and other creatives or just try and make things work for me? Do I go where the work is, finance it conventionally or work to my pre-Brexit aspirations and if I do the latter where is the best base for me?
My direction, my strategy, my tactical planning, my desire to help and my health (not great since chemotherapy) informs everything I do. Large projects that take time to get together and have the potential to reach more people in more effective ways. I’m only one person and not 100% well, so have to pick my battles carefully. When I’m creating fewer blog posts I am at my most productive.
So my posting is likely to continue to be sporadic but the things I post will most likely be more interesting. For now I have no more to say.