This is not one of my long, rose-tinted meandering blogs
Not words full of hope and all-that-is-good-in-the-world.
This is a short and cloud-tinted blog.
Because right now I am scared.
And not just because the world is being held precariously in the hands of an egocentric, thin-skinned reality TV show host
Not just because the BREXIT vote has divided a nation and burnt the bridges for our children's future.
Not just because hate crime is rising and the weak and young and vulnerable are left voiceless and weak
.
I'm scared because of the little things
.
While our politicians discuss the big things: how to live in a "post-truth," world, international policy, global warming, state visits, while they discuss all those things, every day, right on our doorsteps, the little things are destroying the fabric of our communities.
While politicians debate and discuss and negotiate, swaztikas are being sprayed on walls, our daughter experiences "soft," racism on a daily basis and just today I watched a video where a local Parish Council (composed of elderly white men and women) reject the development of a skate park for teenagers at the same time as expressing racist views
.
How can any of this be ok?
These small things....they're not small.
This local politics.....it's not just local.
This is a short blog about being scared.
And the thing that scares me the most, is my own cowardice.
The thing that I am most frightened of, is doing nothing.
Inaction and apathy are as much to blame for the wave of fear and hatred and prejudice that is washing over us as the actions and words of our leaders and politicians.
I spend my days finding a million excuses to do nothing.
I convince myself that I am too busy, that I already do enough, that I am just one person so what difference can I make.
But those are no longer good enough excuses.
.
I'm not sure what it is that we can do, but I am sure that doing nothing is no longer an option.
My parents, like many others, are the children of refugees who fled war-torn Europe.
It's not so long ago that "hate," almost won.
We cannot risk that happening again.
And we can sit here and discuss how terrible it is and how wrong everyone else is, or we can do something about it.
And we can say these things are too big and too complicated and too-out-of-our-control to or we can start trying to stop them from happening again.
We are the grassroots.
Grassroots is where it starts.
There is power in numbers.
Power in the knowledge that we are not alone.
So...people of Chichester (or close-by).....how about it?
How about we show we care?
How about a March Against Prejudice? It would, at least, be a start.
Parents- we are fighting for our children's future.
Grandparents - we are fighting for the future you used to dream of.
Everyone, we are fighting for a safer, more caring and better tomorrow.
If you want to be part of this, leave a comment or a message...and perhaps, just perhaps, we can make it happen.
Spring has almost arrived in South East England.
On the trees the buds of blossom are about to burst.
On the ground, wild hyacinths are beginning sprinkle the undergrowth with purple spears.
And up above, the skies are trying to turn a deeper shade of blue.
The world is about to be filled with colour and sunshine and nesting birds.
The evenings are about to become long and warmer and filled with laughter.
Spring is eternally, fear defyingly hopeful.
And if ever there was a time when we needed an infusion of hope, it's now.
Sometimes if feels that there is no way out of the misery and fear that is engulfing our world.
Each day brings new stories of austerity cuts that seem to make the rich richer and the poor poorer.
Every piece of news is full of the tragic stories of refugees and migrants who didn't make it, of children's bodies being washed up on beaches, of small countries that can no longer cope with carrying the burden of other people's dreams.
And every morning we wake wondering if today will be the day the terrorists strike again, innocent people killed in a frenzy of someone else's religious fervour.
Sometimes the enormity of all that is wrong with the world can take your breath away.
Sometimes the sense of anger and injustice can be suffocatingly overwhelming.
But we cannot give up on hope.
Hope is the life-jacket that keeps us afloat amidst the debris and destructive detritus of war and politics and religious extremism.
Sometimes it comes as a surprise that most of the time, with all these terrible things happening we live our normal lives.
Usually I spend more time worrying about whether to hang the washing inside or outside than what essential service the government will cut next.
Mostly I am more pre-occupied with what to cook for dinner than whether the next boatload of refugees and migrants have made it safely to shore.
And generally I am more anxious about preparing my lectures, making sure the kids have eaten breakfast or remembering if I locked the back door, than wondering where the next suicide bomber will wreak their tragic havoc.
But perhaps that's just how we protect ourselves.
If we worry enough about the little things that we can do something about, then we don't have to think about the bigger things that we feel powerless to change.
" Why do you still make the kids packed lunches every day?" my husband asks, "they should make their own."
And he's right of course.
At 16 and 18 they should be making their own lunches.
But knowing that I have done that one little thing every day to help them, makes me feel better, wraps me in hope.
It's with such tiny acts of love that we will conquer fear.
It's by valuing all that is mundane in our daily lives that we can defy terrorism.
" Whatever you do," we are saying, " we will carry on living our lives.
We will not stop loving because you want us to hate.
We will not stop building bridges because you want us to build barbed wire fences.
We will not stop hoping because you want us to fear.
We will not let our lives be consumed by all that is wrong in the world but will carry on celebrating all that is right.
And so, for as long as they need me to, I will wrap my kids sandwiches in cling film and love - even if the fillings are very boring!
Because here's the thing.
The government might cut all our essential services until there is nothing left.
The refugees might keep arriving, searching for the life they deserve to live
The terrorist might keep plotting to cause death and destruction.
But nothing, not politicians or wars or terrorism, can stop spring from arriving.
And this year, the blossom on our peach tree is going to be the fiercely vibrant, most deeply beautiful pink it has ever been.
