I guess you could say it’s writer’s block. There’s certainly no shortage of things to write about. But the words are stuck in my throat. I have a dozen half-completed posts drafted over the summer. Half-formed ruminations on everything from travel to climate resilience to fascism. But nothing feels like the right thing to say.
I realize there is no ‘right’ thing to say at this time. I can only tell my own story. But that’s a challenge when it feels like you’re drowning in everyone else’s voices. When the news and social media feel like a firehose of voices – most of them angry or scared. I’ve questioned whether to add my own voice to the stream. Especially when I’ve found myself wanting to disengage from the stream so that I can hear the thoughts in my own head.






