With the warmer weather and the slower pace, I’m so ready to lean into the lazy, easy, light and breezy days of summer.
My six weeks off the clock summer holidays are just around the corner. I can taste the sweet sweet honey of rest. But I’m not quite there yet. Still things to complete, anniversaries to celebrate and forms to send off.
But it’s close. I can smell the cut grass and strawberries and syrup already. The long drawn out of days of doing fuck all. Hell to the yes!
Reading is top of the agenda. Summer self-study of topics and issues that are making me buzz. I’ve already started my crime fiction reading as I get back into the DCI Ryan Mysteries Series from L J Ross, all set in the north east.
And now tonight, with an hour to spare before pick up I dive into We Refuse by Kellie Carter Jackson. This is just what I need coming off the back of completing my black mothering and fugitivity chapter. But it also is adding fuel to my fire of refusal and divesting from racial capitalism.
I’m only a few pages in and my heart is singing and I’m thumping with energy in the recognition of finding my space, my safe place where my desires and wants for freedom on my own terms is not weird or unachievable. But is very much necessary.
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!
when archie rowe asked me out in middle school, he wanted us to keep our courtship a secret. we met behind the garages, through the school yard. he kissed me & played with my tits. [did i just use the word tits? there i’ve done it again] tits. i was well developed for me age. full blown blossomed boobies. boys will be boys. behind the garages, sprigs of pussy willow wept. shhh it’s his secret. too ashamed to be seen with a Blackgirlwoman.
*taken from a longer piece called, ‘Playing Palimpsest’, which appears in my full collection Darkling.
After a busy week so far, my body is calling for the easy days of summer. Summer reading is usually how I get to slow down. I’ve got nothing major planned for the summer months. Usually we go down south and house and dog sit. But this year I needed a change.
I’m not sure what that is at the moment. The change I’m looking for. But I’m looking forward to putting up my email message of being off the clock for summer. I’ve started a countdown to that time in my head now.
Call it the teacher still in me but I love my six weeks( or more) summer holidays. So I’ve started the slowdown with reading short stories. A quick and easy way to get back into the reading habit. As well as introduce me to new writers. Read the first two this morning as part of my morning routine. And continue to read The Moor throughout this week.
I’ve swept my back yard, and I’m going to spend more and more time out there, reading and dreaming as I want to start growing stuff back there. But first I need to get to know the space. Spend some time there instead one just passing through.
I’m so looking forward to being off the clock and lazing. Trying to complete my chapter on black mothering and fugitivity after requesting an extension. Nearly there. I’ve got to the first of July and then I can relax and start dropping commitments outside the home, work and responsibilities and just go feral for a while. Yes!
Living Wild Studios 