Hibernation is calling! Another bottle/boxset/box of biscuits to binge. Another update to check. Another unanswered question to ignore. When did ‘living in the moment’ stop promising freedom and start feeling heavy?

Note to self: I heard there’s someone who cares about this.
Most of my adult life has been eclipsed by the fact that I have schizoaffective disorder. I’ve lost friends, jobs, ministry roles, liberty and dignity trying to just carry on in life like a medically typical person. It’s been really hard. There have been times when i’ve felt like I have the monopoly on suffering because of what i’ve been through and what i’m still going through.

The well-known “pregnancy glow” invokes images of beauty with a perfect basketball-up-the-top bump, healthy glowing skin and a head of glossy, luscious hair. It fails to mention the swollen ankles, daily vomiting and the un-glamorous reality of piles though, doesn’t it?! There is a weighted sense of expectation surrounding pregnancy and motherhood; the expectation of others as well as our own preconceived ideas.

It’s that time of year again - the leaves are beginning to turn, there’s a constant smell of damp in the air, everyone is wondering whether to turn the heating on just yet - and students are starting a new term.

Over the past week, numerous conversations around the usage of social media have been sparked by the new Netflix documentary ‘The Social Dilemma’. We are becoming increasingly aware of the ways in which our data is being stored and used as well as how much we are addicted to our phones. And yet, the most intriguing part of this documentary for me was the impact of social media on spreading fake news and polarisation.

I recently attended my first zoom wedding. Let me tell you, it was beautiful. When the bride walked in, beaming with joy, I couldn’t keep a dry eye. What a beautiful sight when two people are finally allowed to spend the rest of their lives together!

2020 has been an absolute whirlwind. I look around and think, “Are we living in some post-apocalyptic world?” People are wearing masks and avoiding one another, stock markets are crashing, racial injustice and social unrest is rampant, and for a while there, there wasn’t even any toilet paper in the shops!

It’s easy to lose hope during this time. It’s easy to want to throw in the towel, scoop out a giant bowl of ice cream, and plop down for our next Netflix binge. The world is falling apart at the seams, it seems, and what in the world can we do about it?

Are you a hugger? I am. Many of us delight in the closeness of human touch. And through this lockdown, many of us have felt starved of its comfort. We’ve seen friends and family on screen- just 2D.  But to meet face to face, to feel the warmth of a hug, well, I wonder if its lack will make us appreciate it more. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about statues and the problems we face when we raise someone up as a model citizen, worthy of specific adoration. This was brought to mind for me as I watched the toppling of the statue of Edward Colston in Bristol Harbour. His name had been discussed for a while in the city. In June, he was finally removed and we began the discussion of which men, and it is mostly men, (nine out of ten statues honour a man), are believed to still be worthy of a place on a plinth.

This weekend I watched ‘Athlete A’, the Netflix documentary depicting the exposure and subsequent conviction of US gymnastics team doctor Larry Nassar for the sexual abuse of young women and children under his care, and the subsequent cover up by USA Gymnastics. The impact of this man’s abuse on young women was devastating. 

Dear Summer,

I always dream you will be perfect. I’ll dream that you’ll be long days spent on the beach, peppered with instagrammable adventures, and way too many iced coffees. You hold some of my dearest memories: from rocking out to Beyoncé at Glastonbury (yep I name dropped), to living abroad, to being the time when I made some of my most life-changing decisions. You encapsulate the longing for a break rewarded with sun.

Alas, this year you haven’t come.

Growing up I have always loved journeys. For me the journey is as important as the destination. I wanted to be a pilot since the age of 10. I loved controlling anything that moves. Being a pilot is a job I have had the privilege of doing for 18 years. But it’s more than just a job, it’s a passion, a lifestyle. 

Where are you seeing glimmers of beauty in lockdown?

For me, it’s been in the daily walks, seeing the blossom trees and the golden hour light. The total joy of being able to have meals al fresco. I’ve found myself longing for the next opportunity to get outside during isolation. Binging on the US Office deserves a mention too- a different kind of beauty!

I was lonely. I just didn’t realise it.I was used to moving around. This time, I moved to a completely new city for work. It was a great job, therefore I didn’t mind the unsociable hours. I honestly couldn’t work out what was wrong.The waves of intense emotional pain were sudden and crippling. I would curl up on the floor and whimper. They were unavoidable and overwhelming.

My friend Krish and his wife Miriam are foster parents. Krish tells of how, one day, the phone rang, requesting a placement. “Do you have space for a three-year-old?” they were asked. “Parents have gone AWOL. We don’t know much about him, but apparently he’s a biter. Are you okay with that?”