Summer Solstice came and gone. I had plans to hit the sea at sunrise, but didn’t make it because I had a restless night what with the heat and house and car alarms going off during the night? Are they sensitive to the heat? I do not know. I thought I was trapped in some kind of twilight zone with the incessant calling alarms and no one moving to switch them off. But I digress. maybe I’m just sensitive to senseless noise!
Mid-year reflections. What can I say? I’m not getting anywhere fast and I’m okay with that.
I FaceTimed with a very dear friend many miles away today and she asked and what’s happening with me. What’s happening in Sheree World?
At first I felt I needed to fill in the gaps with some of this shit and that. Or I’ve been asked to do this shit and that? That I had to show I was hustling and beating the grind real good. But shit ain’t happening in Sheree World and in all honesty I’m happy about that.
I hibernated well into April this year what with going to Paris and celebrating my babies’ birthdays. By the time I came out of my cave, everyone was well into their year, well into 2025. And I could do one of two things ( probably other things too but focusing on just the two for now!).
I could drop everything my heart desired and focused on catching up with everyone else. Max out my diary with jobs and commitments and watch the money roll in.
Or two, I could, continue to roll out of my SheCave slowly and mindfully, carefully and with a whole heap of love and grace for myself and just take things on a day to day basis. No rush no sense of urgency and definitely no panicking.
Which option do you think I chose to follow?
I’m not even sure it was a viable choice because I’m so used to practicing Slow Fugitivity now that it’s the only way I can operate and keep myself sane, safe and thriving.
I’m not measuring my success by how much my bank balance is telling me or more like alerting me to. I’m not measuring my success by how many people are singing my praises. By how many people have my name on this lips and are ready and willing to work with me. Promote me, award me, accept me.
I’m measuring my success on how good I feel moment to moment. How much joy and love am I feeling now? How much care am I giving to my self and those around me? How much am I showing up into situations, gatherings and meetings as myself? Transparent, honest, earnest and hopeful?
How much am I being open hearted, loved, loveable and loving towards myself and those around me?
This is my measure of success.
I’m not turning away from all the shit and cruelty and destruction that is happening around me and in this world. I’m feeling it for the people who are getting caught in the middle of men with big egos who are playing at being leaders and pretending to protect their people. I know what is happening in the name of religion, or history or land and justice. I’m listening and seeing genocide after genocide happening and those responsible not being held to account. I see it and feel it and I want to do more to stop it, to fight against it. So trust me when I say, I do not turn away or ignore it when I choose joy and care and love as my weapons of choice. I’m not living in a fantasy land of all happy happy joy Joy. I’m not being naive or flippant.
I’m choosing to refuse the stories we are being told. I’m refusing to perpetuate the capitalist structures and feed into the patriarchy and imperialist tendencies. I’m choosing to refuse the roles assigned to me as a black woman as just another body to be used and abused and disposed of after I’m no longer useful.
Fuck that fuckery.
So mid-year reflection is that:
* I’ve got no regular working gig on the horizon.
* I’m searching for my tribe.
* I’m dreaming of other possibilities, another way of being.
* I’m refusing the shit sandwich that is offer me again and again.
* I’m refusing what has already been refused of me.
* I’m creating spaces for creative fugitivity.
* I’m creating gaps or breaks in the capitalist dome from which we can break free into the land of possibilities filled with imagination and play.
* I’m embracing craftivism. My word are my weapons. Always have been, always will be.
* I’m lingering in the midst of flight.
* I’m taking MY TIME to stretch OUT my tired limbs. Limbs reaching for the sky, eyes focused on the stars above as I’m breathing deeply, and allowing my deep belly laugh to roll out over the landscape as I pick a rhythm to my own beat and I’m shaking shake shake shaking OUT by big beautiful black behind.
Come join me if you dare. Make sure to bring a plate of food and story to tell as we gonna be gathering around the fire soon to build a free community, or as my dear friend Dal was saying just the other day, build a village. Yes thank you, indeedy!
Let’s get to shaking, shake shake, shaking this shit up!
I’ve been seeking people, groups and organisations that I can become part of.
After a life changing anti-racism training session, which I no longer call it as such, where I realised that what I’ve been doing is really just continuing to centre whiteness and uphold white supremacy culture through this training, I feel the need to not be alone any longer in my views and activism.
I need comrades and solidarity in action.
This search for my tribe has seen me reaching out to the Revolutionary Communist Party( RCP) and the Revolutionary Communist Group – Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism, The Ella Baker School of Organising and their recent conference in London titled Defeating Narratives of Division and just yesterday, attending a meeting of the North East Anti-Racism Coalition. Let’s explore each of these experiences in turn as there has been much learning as well as clarification of where I stand in the mix.
First, my main concern around the anti-racism training I’d been doing for the last five years was that it wasn’t looking at the class system, oppression through class which is a result of capitalism. It really isn’t critical enough, or even analysing capitalism and how this is our common enemy. Through focusing on whiteness, white privilege and white supremacy culture is fails to acknowledge and really get to the roots of what and where racism came about. Race was the creation of the rich landowners afraid of the workers, both black and white, rising up and revolting. So they created the elevated status of whiteness, and the white class to bestow certain right and privileges on to the poor white workers who shipped over to the Americas for a better life form England as a means of separating them from this black workers they were so recently working side by side with. To continue to maximise profit through brutal working conditions the white working class was created, whiteness was now at the top of the hierarchy and could weld power over black workers who were once their comrades and fellow sufferers.
I realised that the common enemy is capitalism. We may have differences but we can find that common ground and come together to fight for better lives and conditions, or even destroy the whole capitalist system as then everyone, every worker would be better off. The means of production and money and gains within society would the shared out equally to all members of community. No one would be ruling over another, no bourgeois as Marxists would say.
I was looking for comrades and solidarity not allyship so I started to explore the Revolutionary Communist Party UK which split off from the Revolutionary Communist Group ( Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism) in 1978. I’ve been exploring them both really once I established the distinction between them. I’ve reached out to both, subscribed to the newspaper, Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism and bought some books. I must say it’s kind of like a labyrinth to try and get involved. The need for some connection or someone to just respond in an email what they are doing and how someone like me could get involved was needed. They want to talk to you on the phone and share what they are doing and almost interview me in terms of what I’m looking for or do or think. I’ve felt at times as if I was being tested for something.
Then I received a long essay to read. Marxism ‘v’ Identity Politics, which is what the RCP stands behind and I assume RCG ( FRFI) do also. It’s a long read but I persevered. From the beginning by back was up because they were talking about women, and women being slaves to men and being oppressed before capitalism was created. I got the feeling that when they were mentioning women they were referring to white women. But I read on. And in all honesty I cannot stand behind this document if this is what Marxist and Communists stand for.
I know within this document , it is repeated that Marxists stand against all oppressions and yet it still uses the language of the oppressor in terms of using ‘immigrants and non-whites’ and ‘oppressed minorities’ . I find its tone offensive, condescending and dismissive.
Failing to acknowledge that Third World/ Black Feminism has always been about fighting all oppressions for the betterment of all, being anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist etc. I feel where feminism is mentioned within the article it is just referring to white feminism.
I do take on board and agree to a certain degree that intersectionality and identity politics are divisive. I have tended to adopt an intersectional approach to issues now. But I have to take issue with the lack of respect and care demonstrated towards people’s difference within the piece. It almost feels as if the document is calling people who fight along identity lines against oppression as stupid or near sighted and just thinking of the individual.
There is a case for being forceful and adamant about what Marxism stands for, but I just didn’t feel the care and kindness and joy within the piece which I seek within any movement I am part of.
So I’ve left my Marxist/ Communist involvements there as they focus on the workers, as capitalism, imperialism, colonialism are the problems, we can come together and fight together on but not at the expense of love as the foundation. I felt the love and joy at the recent Defeating Narratives of Division conference in London with the Ella Baker School of Organising but I think this was coming directly from the creatives present as well as the gay and trans-people present. That’s how we want our movement to feel, joyful , respectful and loving and caring for each other. I am still waiting to hear back from the organisers of this conference in how I can get more involved.
Finally, yesterday I took a trip to Hartlepool to attend the North East Anti-Racism Coalition gathering so find out what they are all about and up to. Formed in 2024, they aim to make the North East a region that actively opposes racism and hatred based on religious identity. I was interested in finding out about their journey this far, what they stand for and what are their next steps. It was well attended, with the majority of people being white. After details about how the coalition has developed and where they see things going focusing on campaigns, membership, raising awareness and learning, we were tasked, our tables, to introduce ourselves and why we were there. I was the only black person on the table and while I said I was there to agitate, others were there to gain information to take back to their organisations, maybe not realising that they were also there to give not just take. But let’s go on.
Next was the keynote speaker, Matt Storey from Cleveland Office of the Police and Crimes Commission. He gave a powerful speech about how diversity within the region is a positive, a strength and how they are standing up against the racist riots of last summer, but he frequently referred to people of the global majority within the region as immigrants, or refugees and asylum seekers, people who had come here on boats so to speak, not once referring to the black and brown people who were born here in the UK, or the region who have been here for hundreds of years. For me this is just playing into the narrative that we do not belong here. There was talk of fighting and defending these diverse groups of people, again falling into the white savourism narrative. I am not your victim, I do not need saving, I need comrades and solidarity. We don’t need any more heroes thank you.
From here it was to get into working groups to focus on such things as membership, campaigns, learning hubs, and research. Let’s just say something about their research. It was billed as if the coalition was going to share some research. The person presenting their findings another white person came to the conclusion that more research was needed and was beyond the scope of the working group and should be taken on board by the wider/ whole coalition. The research proposed, you guess it, a survey of black and brown people in the region to share their experiences of racism. It can be done anonymously but if you give your contact details you will be put into a prize draw to win £100 in shopping vouchers. So please share with your networks as the deadline is 18 July.
Of course everything I’ve just said there about the survey is done in a sarcastic tone as I am not promoting people of the global majority in the region to complete this survey as from my point of view there is plenty of research completed which demonstrate racism exists. Maybe they want some up to date data after the riots of 2024, but still I’m sure there is research out there where they wouldn’t have to exploit or expect us to share our experiences once more or fall into this habit of having to prove it exists once again. There was no mention or indication as to what this research would be used for afterwards either.
I joined the campaign working group to see what was happening there. One question we talked about in smaller groups was how can we build better connections across difference. Things that came up was attempting to find that common ground, where there is mutuality over issues that we can come together on and work together on to bring about change for everyone. Yes I can get behind this.
But then, from the few other black and brown people who were part of this small group, I got the impression that is was a competition to share as many stories and instances of when and where they experienced racism. Of course the white people in the group were lapping this up but I felt it was again a way to prove that racism exists and is happening or has been happening within the region for generations. And this is true, but for me I am past trying to convince anyone that racism exists. For me it is a given, let’s move on. For me it’s just treading water.
And the last point, from another group’s feedback, a white woman speaking said that it would be really important for building connections to hear first hand from black and brown people about their lived experiences around racism. It helps others to understand it, she said. And I disagreed saying it just re-traumatises someone to retell their experiences of racism again and again to strangers, no doubt. A black man disagreed stating that we should be sharing, telling our stories. And I just said well from personal experience, I’d rather not be triggered and again it’s as if we are spending our energy on trying to prove it exists. That racism exists. I’d rather focus on our joy, black joy which white people do fin threatening but at least ti would demonstrate we’re not just cardboard cut outs created to experience race and racism.
After this I left. I left early because I’d had enough. I felt as if I was on different page to people who where at the event. I know it’s not an either/ or, it’s a both/and. But for me what was lacking was listening to each other. People were talking over each other, people were there to take at the same time as be heard, but there wasn’t much giving and listening.
I know I’m a lone wolf in terms of being fugitive. In terms of the way I think and operate. I listen and consolidate and try to meet a consensus but there was just not enough respect and comradeship within the room for me. It was very transactional and very little care and love and kindness.
So I’m still on the hunt for my tribe. I wanted to contribute to whatever was happening already. Contribute to the flow already happening. But as of yet I have not found this space. Maybe need to create my own that can hold all the contradictions and differences but is build on solidarity, respect, kindness, care and love.
For the last two days I’ve been completing my refresher course in Outdoor First Aid Training.
First completed during the pandemic, my certificate had run out and I needed to retake the course.
It’s simple, First Aid saves lives.
Basic first aid can mean the difference between life and death. A Red Cross survey showed a staggering 59% of deaths from injuries would have beenpreventable had first aid been given before the emergency services arrived.
Only about 4-5% of the population in the UK are First Aid trained. This for me is not enough people taking responsibility. This for me is not enough people l caring about other people’s well-being. This for me is not enough people demonstrating care in community.
What maddens me further is that women are more likely to not receive life saving first aid because people, usually men, are uncomfortable about exposing women’s breasts in conducting life saving CPR. So more women are dying without receiving first aid because of other people’s embarrassment. Fucking hell. I’m telling you now, if it’s the difference between showing my boobs and being able to live for another day, fucking get my top and bra off as soon as possible and start saving my life. You have my consent now.
I’m now trained up for another 3 years. But I won’t be leaving it there. I’ll make sure I’m refreshing my skills more frequently as well as moving onto an advanced first aid skills training course. I don’t think you can ever be prepared enough for saving a life , as who knows what scenarios will present themselves in real life, but at least I will have the confidence and the know how to try and save a life.
It was so good to have a deep dive into my practice, my work around fugitivity and refusing to perpetuate white supremacy culture. And it was all welcome at Feral Words. Nothing off limits and it was so liberating to try and make sense of all the concepts and ideas and feelings that are circulating within and without of me at the moment in time. A very disturbing time.
The second time I went to see Sinners, again it was fitting it in before going away somewhere else. But I knew I had to see it again.
A different cinema, and much fuller this time. I was sat between two black women out for one of theirs birthday’s and a white couple.
The black women introduced themselves to me. Something that has never happened before to me in the pictures. I thought it was a lovely gesture. It meant I could also tell them that they were in for a treat.
Again I got lost in the world of Sinners. Even thought I’d seen it before, I still jumped at the frightening bits. And I say frightening bits, the bits that are in there to make you jump. There’s blood but most of time the biting by the vampires is done off screen or you see it from behind and hear the noises.
I love this movie for so many reasons but I think the first thing is how Coogler plays with the genres and conventions and expectations. This is a mixture of genres ; horror, action, romance, musical etc. Coogler takes creative liberties with what’s gone before to create something rich, unique and full.
I love how this is a massive permission slip to any creative to go with their own flow. Bring in all the possibilities you want to express your point. It applies to the Creatrix in me because when the energy flows, when I’m in the zone and listening, the creations knows no boundaries or limits or rules. It just be.
Sinners is just that. And more. It’s layered , culturally and spiritually explorative and travels through time and space with music as the connection.
This second viewing of Sinners was important because for the first viewing, I had to rush off into try dark and catch a bus, therefore missing the multiple endings. So this time, I stayed put and also told those around who were fixing to leave, ‘there’s more.’
I’m not going to spoil the film for you by telling you what happens in the multiple endings but please don’t leave until the very end. Even if the lights come up, hang on in there to the very end. Even if they’re coming in to clean up after you, hang on in there to the very ends.
It makes a difference when we’ve got the light. And it’s warm with it.
I’m in a three day streak of getting into the sea, straight after the school run. The tide has been in too. Which I love.
I love it when the bay is full to the brim with sea. I don’t have to walk far before I meet the water.
I give thanks when I greet the sea. Because she’s always there for me. Not judging me. Not rejecting me. Just welcoming me.
In the past, the sea has healed me again and again. The first time of any significance was when I miscarried our second child, back in 2009. We moved to the coast soon after as I needed to heal.
And to be healed is not a one time thing. Healing is a life long process. Sometimes I’m locked into my healing journey and sometimes I veer off course and need something or someone to remind me to get back into the practice. The practice of healing.
So with a new month comes a renewal. And this is the time of year to renew. Spring is well and truly with us now. And the blossom may be receding and just pink petals on the wind, or white even. But I’m catching hints of bluebells.
So my list of habits and actions to lean into for a May of Healing includes:
A high protein breakfast.
Making sure I get 8+ hours of sleep each night. Priority!
Getting lost in a few good books.
Walking each day. Getting outside into the light.
Getting into the sea as often as possible, at home and away.
Visual journaling daily.
Getting back into painting for pleasure. To hell with the results.
Increasing my fruit and veg intake.
Increasing my water intake. At least 2litres a day.
Continue on my strength training journey.
Insight timer daily.
Reconnecting with friends and family I haven’t talked to for a while.
Solo dates like to the cinema or a museum. Or a delicious meal out for one!
Acquire some new plant friends.
Create a zine or two.
Plan the summer holidays for Miss Ella and me. And also solo me!
Keep traveling for pleasure and joy instead of work commitments and responsibilities.
From about mid November 2024, I took myself off on a self-directed hibernation. I might have had to do some work in a school in December but mostly from then until today, the end of March, I’ve been resting. I withdrew from the world of responsibilities and work to take some much needed alone time. I went within, into the darkness and stillness. And now as I attempt to resurface and re-engage with the world, with great difficulty I may add, I’m taking this time to reflect on this practice and process of disappearing from the world for months on end.
Firstly, I think everyone should do it. And I don’t like using ‘should’ but here I’m going to make an exception. I know it’s a privilege to take time out of work and from seeking money for a certain period of time, and I recognise that, but wouldn’t it be a better world for everyone and even living thing, if we all could hit that stop button and rest?
For me through this retreat practice, everything is put into perspective. I give myself the time and space to reflect and process all the shit thats happening in this world. And I may not come back with the solutions but I do come back with an expanded capacity for joy and grace instead of just the feelings of overwhelm and defeat.
My time away has been good for the soul because I’ve been able to remember and reclaim my body-soul-spirit connection. I’ve been able to reclaim my connection to self, nature and other people. I’m been able to come home to myself and work out, gently, what is important to myself. What are my values and morals and am I living my life by them. If not then let’s recalibrate and get back on track. And I don’t mean the capitalist make as much money and the least connection and impact kind of track. I mean the track of being the best version of myself so I can show up for others in my family and community as the best version of myself for them.
I’ve taken this time away for me but at the same time, I hope as a role model. As an example to follow. Yes money is always going to be an issue. There is always not going to be enough to go around and to do the things I want to do or live the life I want to live. But at the same time, I can live more frugal. I can spend my money on experiences rather than on material stuff. And I can take the risk and say I’m not going to work or actively seek work for a few months while I rest, while I work on myself, while I {BE}.
Of course, my bank balance is screaming at the lack of money therein. Credit owed might be rising. And I could slip into panic mode and think I’ve got to get work, quick and fill the pot back up. But if I slipped right back into this panic mode and ran around like a chicken with no head, what would have been the point of the rest and withdrawal? All that calm and serenity and centred-ness that I’ve created over the last few months would have been for nothing. Gone in the blink of an eye, just like this time away seems to have passed.
This practice of rest and slowness, is part of my practice forever! There’s no switch that I switch back on to go back into work mode. I’m not a machine or a robot. I’m a living, breathing, feeling human being, even though there are some who have made me believe otherwise. I want and need to make sure that my life reflects my priorities and values and not just plays into the system which has never got my back.
As I’ve mentioned before, I writing about fugitivity. And for me part of using fugitivity as a method or practice, is me to take my body out of the systems of production and run. Run away from the rat race, run away from extraction and exploration and stop. Or linger in the time and space of rest and nothingness. Breathe deep and allow my body to come back to life. Allow my joyathon-o-meter to rise by feeding my soul with beauty which is there to see in the every day if only we allow ourselves that time and space to {BE}.
I haven’t just been sitting on my arse and doing nothing during this hibernation, even though a lot of the time was spent on doing nothing, allowing myself to get bored and seeing how it feels and what comes up and seeing what are my go tos to stop feeling all the feels. This has been a period of getting to know myself again, which is difficult if you’re bouncing from one job to another, one project to another, where the aims and intentions are not in my control or even anything I’ve agreed to.
So yes day dreaming did enter the hibernation period. What also featured was reading and writing and walking. And sea swims and travel and alone time with nature. Home cooking, time with family and friends. Music and dancing and artwork and journalling. A lot of visual journalling. Nothing earth shattering but enough. Enough to make me realise that I’ve been running on empty, exhausted really and how harm was caused towards me and how I needed to heal.
Yes if anything, this time has been a time of healing. And this is an on-going process but I feel better equipped now to continue the healing journey.
So April is around the corner and I’ve really not got a lot of work on still. As I made the decision not to actively seek work while in hibernation also. Why take the time away from work commitments and then spend that time searching for work, applying here there and everywhere and getting stressed about finding work for my return? What nonsense is that.
So yes I might officially end my hibernation today, but I know I still have time for me as the work commitments are few and far between. But not stressing about the things I can’t control but will focus on the things I can control. I might start to gear up to putting our feelers for work but not full throttle. Not nice, don’t like. Again, I’m not going to waste this time away on moving out of zero effort into the max. I’m slowly easing out of my bear cave. I’m stretching slowly, reaching for the sky. Scratching my back against a tree trunk, and then I seat back down and admire the cherry blossom coming into bloom. I’m taking the time to thank Mother Earth for being with me and allowing me to rest and to resurface when I’m good and ready. I’m grateful for this time away. And I’m grateful to be able to return in my full glory as me.
A book is much more faithful than a lover I think.
A book can open you up to so many different experiences at the same time as reaffirming everything you’ve been feeling and thinking and struggling with.
I’m not sure a lover can do all that for me. But many more than one lover could?
Hence spending copious amounts of time in bed with books.
Reclaiming the Black Body: Nourishing the Home Within by Alisha McCullough is one of my current reads.
I used to be of the persuasion to read one book at a time. Devote all my time, focus and attention to one book in order to reap the glory/ knowledge/ whatever!
But these past few years, as I’ve become thirsty for stimulation and attempting to find like-minded people/ theories/ lovers, I’m moved into reading multiple books simultaneously, also known as “syntopical reading”.
And these books are not on the same topic either. They range from poetry around grief, non-fiction on gardening, personal essays around deep time, romantic and crime novels and short stories about myths and history. The list goes on!
I’m so enjoying this eclectic and multiple reading practice as it’s keeping me engaged, creating unique and original connections and it’s keeping me feeling loved.
By me.
So one of my current squeezes is Reclaiming the Black Body and I’m devouring it in small digestible bites because it is speaking to my soul.
This book is calling to attention the deep-seated, long-time, disproportionate amount of trauma, violence, marginalisation, discrimination, and adverse childhood experiences of Black women and femmes, and confounded by misognoir and racism, how we have learned to cope with it all through increased imbalanced eating behaviours.
Usually called “eating disorders” but even using that language implies that the individual is to blame and implying that some of us are just not equipped to nourish our bodies and do not know how to look after ourselves.
‘Disorder’ implies stigma and comes from the Western health ‘care’ system which from time has excluded and harmed Black people.
So this book is a balm for the wounds of silent struggles Black women and femmes have been going through around eating imbalances including myself. And is a vindication that we’re not fucked up and broken and just beasts, being less than human but that we are doing our best with the tools that we have to strive and thrive within a system that is hell-bent, historically and now, to demonise the Black body.
I will continue to cosy up with this book and others in bed, night and day, as reading is hitting the spot!
Living Wild Studios 