It is the dark time of year, and we celebrate the solstice a few days later than reality by pretending to celebrate something else. Later in the winter I will suffer from the shortness of the days, which do not get longer quickly enough. Now we are protected from the darkness by the convivial nature of the season. We spend our time seeing friends and family, or at least one or the other, and make ourselves aware of who we care for and who cares for us. This only works if you do have a support network, of course. It is a cruel season in our atomised society.
I woke this morning to see blackbirds hopping through the hawthorns outside my window. The birds are still happily finding berries to eat, not yet in the winter starvation period. For a time it feels like the darkness and cold is an opportunity to retreat from action, to think, regroup, prepare for the battles that next year will bring or that we will pick. A sense of home is a necessity in such a time of preparation, at least for most people. Psychologically it is important to have a fort from which to fight.
As for which battles I want to pick, some of them are already in preparation, others I am still considering. Londres, it seems to me, is in a strange state at present, and has the potential to generate new ideas, create new lines of flight. This is not saying much in itself, as this post has not said much. The problem is always language: how to talk of a different future? Not everyone can believe in a future without the words to describe it. This strikes me as a most interesting challenge.