An attack has been made, and I hunker down, distressed while assessing damage.
The sun is shining outside brightly, and I have just had the incredible win of selling my youngest’s car for the exact amount needed to buy them the one they needed.
I showed up yesterday to my final and took to the stage spontaneously to pantomime along with my song in leiu of being able to finish it in the software properly.
Making no claims for the greatness of my acting, the point is that I innovated.
The internal clouds had parted for a moment, allowing me to remember as strategy that performance art could indeed be used for my presenting.
I have accomplished great, important things, one-by-one in sequence and by staying focused upon one step at a time.
Therefore, where is my confidence?
Why is it not safe to smile at the day’s mere delight and whim?
Because my home is under attack and the truth of my situation has not merely been called into question – but immediately acted against.
When a wounded person’s injuries are arbitrarily discounted, where does reclamation of justice and reclamation of security even start to begin?
Candid Corvid Productions 