Monday, 8 June 2020

Live Session 8th June ~ Unrest wtih Maya Angelou

There was a curious and unexpected protest on deck this morning with menopause being the conversation... and the cause of subjugation. One and all agreed that this topic is hopelessly under represented in life's general conversation, impacting half the population on a scale that ranges from mild to utterly devastating. We have put our minds to the task of opening such conversations here on this platform.... but "m" is the second letter of hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... so in truth, will we get around to that?

Meanwhile the theme of the day brought our minds and pens to worldwide unrest in the wake of the death of George Floyd, the Black Lives Matter movement.

Still I Rise  Maya Angelou's poem, was where I went for contemplation and this is where our prompt of the day comes from:

I am the dream and the hope of the slave

Many thanks to Pat Sutherland who has shared her hugging thoughts from last week:


On occasion hugging poses awkward questions: ‘Do I know this person well enough?’ ‘Will a hug seem presumptuous?’  ‘Does this person even like being hugged?’  ‘Must I hug this person?’  ‘Is this person never going to let go?’

After three hugless months, however, I have lost my scruples.  I have discovered how much I need and miss human contact of the physical kind.  The delivery man at my door today narrowly missed being folded in my embrace and given half a chance I’d hug the cat next door, though she has always observed discreet social distancing.

I will not be responsible for my conduct when hugging becomes permissible, when the suit at the podium produces a graph delineating the ratio of safe hugging in relation to area and the legal maximum participants in a group hug.  When it happens I will spend all the birthday hugs I’ve been saving; I will go to the gate and hug passers- by;  I will get behind the wheel and drive south to hug my grandsons until they wriggle free; I will be a mug for hugging.

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